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sleeperswakewriting · 4 years ago

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After Class

For @himebee-5's prompt!

Summary: Petra is Professor Ackerman's star student and yet, she keeps meeting him for office hours every Monday afternoon.

Rated: E

CWs: teacher/student relationship, age gap, praise kink

Word count: 3.2k

Surprise! I queued up another fic for smutty Saturday since I'll be out for most of the day--enjoy! 😉

She was distracting.

Levi prided himself in his stellar concentration, his perfunctory work, and despite his cold and callous demeanor, he was an excellent professor. Always receiving high remarks from his students and colleagues, and managing to churn out at least two research papers a year, there was little that compromised his neat routine.

He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he faced the chalkboard, clearing his throat. Levi Ackerman didn’t make mistakes, but after one look at her, his mind went elsewhere as he absently completed the calculus equation and one student shakily raised his hand and said, “E-excuse me sir, but I think you forgot to take the derivative in the fifth step.”

Taking a step back, realizing that his glasses slipped from its usual position since he took a double take at her, he merely nodded and erased the step in which he made the error and redid the equation. He thanked the student and a flurry of pencils hit paper as they recorded the problem, and Levi glanced at his watch, giving them a few minutes before he moved on.

It’s wasn’t just the plaid mini skirt and thigh high stockings that did it--he knew he was enough of a perverted old man that he at least acknowledged that turned him on, but the way she sat in the front row, prim and studious as she eyed him for the hour and a half lecture made him feel stupidly special. Most students’ eyes glazed over, and he didn’t give a shit if they were on their phones, it was their time and money after all, but the way her amber orbs never left him was almost damn unsettling if she didn’t have such a coquettish look.

Her short ginger hair was pulled back with a red head band today, and as he was giving back the first test of the semester, he paused at her seat and said, “Good work, Ms. Ral,” while sliding the test face down onto her desk. She beamed, looking at the paper, and her face fell at the grade. Levi frowned slightly, wondering what she could possibly be upset about since she received an 88, the third highest in the class. Calculus wasn’t an easy subject, and it was usually the class where students on the science and math track chose to drop out and choose a different major.

After passing out the tests, he returned to the desk at the front of the classroom to collect his things and head back to his office for his office hours for the day. As most of the students filtered out of the classroom, Petra sat stark still at her desk, eyes running over her exam, and eyebrows contorted in confusion.

“Is something wrong, Ms. Ral?” he asked, slinging his messenger bag over his grey dress shirt, adjusting his tie, and she looked up, eyes aglow. Levi pretended not to notice the way her tight long sleeved shirt hugged her curves, and the v-neck emphasized her breasts when she brought her arms together in anguish.

“I’m trying to figure out where I went wrong, Professor. I’m really disappointed in myself, I thought I aced this test.”

Levi cocked his head. “You should be proud of yourself, you have one of the highest marks in the class.”

Petra shook her head in disbelief. “Even so, I think I made far too many silly mistakes.” She sighed, shoulders slumping in clear disappointment. “I guess I’ll try harder next time. Sorry professor, you probably have to go--”

“My office hours are now,” he said, the words leaving his lips without even thinking. His glasses shone from the ceiling lights of the high lecture hall, and he swallowed. “We can go over the test if you’d like.”

And she smiled brilliantly at him again, collecting her things and swinging her fashionable book bag over her shoulder as she followed him to the math building. Levi kept at least three feet ahead of her, not wanting to give her the impression they had to make small talk since the math building was on the opposite side of the quad, and he breathed a sigh of relief when they entered his office. It was at the end of the hall of the third floor, a quiet place since it was around lunch time and most students were at the dining hall.

Levi closed the old wooden door and gestured for her to sit at the front of his desk while he deposited his bag and thumbed through the manila folder for the answer key. Petra set her things down and unfurled her own test, using his desk as she tapped her pencil at the corner of her lips.

“So which problems were giving you trouble?” He asked, loose leaf paper at the ready, and Petra motioned to problem number three.

“I get tripped up when there’s a double integral, I think.” She was already making the amendments in her head and she asked him for a piece of paper as well. Levi withdrew another from his desk cadenza and his breath hitched as their fingers touched. Stop acting like a teenage boy, he scolded himself, wondering when the last time he went on a date or had gotten laid because this was ridiculous. She was at least ten years his junior, his student no less, and she was just asking her math professor for help, even though she clearly didn’t need it.

She crossed her legs cutely, emphasizing her thighs between the space between her skirt and socks, and Levi averted his gaze as he forced himself to concentrate on her bright tone, going over her process as she circled and made the adjustments from her previous attempt.

“Yes, that’s correct. You want to integrate x and treat y as the constant. It’s like in the partial example, which you completed correctly in problem one.”

Petra smiled, nodding as understanding entered her field of vision and she completed the problem with ease. “Thank you Professor! Can you give me a harder problem just to make sure I understood the concept?”

And as Levi did his best to not pay attention to the way she said harder, he opened up the math textbook and selected an exercise, scratching it onto the paper between them and slid it towards her.

The mahogany desk was slightly too tall for Petra to comfortably lean against from the chair, so she sat up and leaned over to solve the problem, orange hair falling from her tucked ears. This time, Levi didn’t even bother looking away since Petra was fully invested in solving the equation, and he felt his pants tighten as he noted the white lace bra she had on underneath, and her round mounds spilling from her top.

“Is this right?” She asked, finally finishing, sitting back down in her seat and Levi coughed as he fought down the flush on his face.

He stared at the problem, willing himself to concentrate on the numbers in her neat handwriting, but he was finding it difficult to focus as he noticed her licking her lips after reapplying some chapstick. He took it line by line until he finally nodded and said, “Good work.”

Petra returned the paper to her folder and touched his hand gently from across the desk. “Thank you Professor Ackerman, it really means a lot to me that you went out of your way to help me. I guess the reviews were right after all.” His eyebrows rose since he didn’t usually make a habit to read his class reviews but relied on the report that the school gave him at the end of each term.

“Oh really? What do the reviews say?”

Petra giggled, and Levi felt his heart stop at the beautiful sound. “Well for one, they say you’re the sexiest teacher on campus, but more importantly, students who take your class are set up for success for linear algebra, which is my goal. I’m an astronomy major.”

He didn’t know why he found that to be a turn on since he worked at a university where there were literally hundreds of majors, but before he had a chance to think, Petra had collected her things and waved as she made for the brass knob of his office door.

“See you next week, Professor!”

And the door clicked shut. Levi’s head was spinning, and if he didn’t know any better, Petra was outright flirting with him, and he was having a difficult time processing that. He moved to lock the office door and he double checked to make sure that he didn’t have any upcoming meetings. Sinfully, he laid back in his chair and closed his eyes while he unbuckled his pants.

She’s your student, you filthy fuck. But her shiny lips, her sweet voice, and her intellect…

He stroked himself, thinking of her, and he came quickly, her name on his lips as he imagined himself taking her between her plaid skirt and thigh high socks.

---

Monday afternoons became a ritual for them, and while Levi attempted to muster up every ounce of professional courage, he found himself unable to say no to her. Every day, after class, she would sweetly ask if she could go over the day’s lecture, and he would say yes and they would wordlessly walk to his office and repeat the same routine.

It was always strictly professional, but he could have sworn that she was intentionally taking off her jacket or sweatshirt in front of him, sometimes leaving her in only a crop top. He decided then that she was purposely trying to kill him because the blood rushed faster to his groin than he could will himself to stop. He had to keep himself firmly behind his desk, not wanting to scare her from his raging hard-on as she pattered on about her misunderstandings for the day, and he would mutely nod, watching her the entire time.

She stopped the week during finals, only visiting him after his final lecture and he missed her presence during the two week absence. He eagerly awaited the day of the final exam, just to pathetically see her again, and there she was, front and center, pencil at the ready.

“This is my last test,” she whispered to him excitedly as he handed her the exam and he gave a thin smile and muttered a ‘good luck’ to her row, but looked at her the entire time.

She was the last to leave, and she heaved a sigh of relief as she handed him her packet, looking joyful.

“How did you find the test, Ms. Ral?” he asked, sparing her a last glance before she left his classroom for the final time. His heart ached at that, but he supposed it was for the best since dreams and visions of her had plagued him since the beginning of the semester.

“I think I aced it, thanks to my excellent teacher.” And she gave him a dazzling smile as she walked away and Levi trailed her form until she disappeared.

It was a routine message that Levi sent out to all of his students, that if they wanted to go over their final exam that they could set up office hours. He didn’t allow for debating for points--he had no time for that, and his grading procedure was precise and calculated, but he set up time slots for ease of the students.

So when he saw Petra Ral in his email, requesting for the last time slot before the last day of the grading period, he hurriedly clicked accept even though she received a perfect score on her test.

It was spring, and the promise of a new future hung in the air when Petra entered his office, wearing a similar ensemble to when she first came in, a red plaid skirt, thigh high stockings, and this time, a white knit t-shirt that unbuttoned just at her cleavage. She poked her head in, and he noticed that she didn’t carry a book bag, but opted for a small purse that slung over one shoulder.

“Hi Professor!” she chirped happily, hands clasped behind her back. Levi allowed himself a smile as he took her in.

“What can I do for you Ms. Ral? Surely you don’t have any complaints about this test--congratulations on ruining the curve, by the way. Your classmates are furious.”

Petra laughed, feeling satisfied with herself as she gazed at him--sleeves rolled up to his forearms and he opted for a vest and tie set that complimented his eyes nicely. “I wanted to let you know that I’m taking Professor Hange’s class next semester for linear algebra.”

His heart fell; he was also teaching that class, but maybe it didn’t fit into her schedule. He didn’t meet her eyes as he said, “She’s a tough teacher, but she’s good at what she does. Don’t expect to be let go early, the woman can and will go on for hours.”

Petra smiled. “I’ll be sure to make a note of it.” And she shuffled between her feet as a light blush came to her cheeks. “I wanted to give you a thank you gift, for all the office hours you’ve given to me the past semester.”

Levi raised a thin eyebrow between his glasses. “You don’t have to do that, Ms. Ral. It’s part of my job. You’re an excellent student, you made my job very easy.”

She batted her eyelashes as she stepped closer to him. He was seated in his leather office chair, arms crossed and she took a deep breath as she stood a foot apart from him, hands still playing with each other behind her back. “It’s nothing expensive. And you can call me Petra, Professor, the semester is over.”

And before Levi could question her words, she leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek. Levi’s heart pounded in his chest, noticing that Petra was visibly shy despite the bold gesture she had just committed and he stared at her, slack jawed.

“Thank you, Professor.”

Levi’s eyes widened, and the hungry need he had for her over the past three months took over. Before he knew it, he was tugging at her wrist and she was straddling his lap, skirt pooling between them as he devoured her into a kiss, lips furiously nipping and biting as she let out an animated moan. Her hands went for his tie, pulling it from his vest and then around his neck where she buried her fingers into his undercut. A shiver of pleasure went down Levi’s spine as he settled his hands at her waist, then her back, and then at the fabric at the end of her shirt.

Panting, Petra raised her arms, signalling for him to take it off, and Levi let out a groan and a fucking hell at her lacy push up bra. Arms wrapped around each other again, Petra leaned into his chest, pressing her tits against him while she grinded against his lap, smiling as she devilishly noticed his hard-on between their clothing. Her breath was hot against his as she moved to unbutton his vest, and he raised himself to take it off, but let out a hiss as their centers made contact.

Not being able to help himself, Levi trailed his fingers up and down her legs, groaning that he was finally able to touch her, and the way the spandex hugged her skin was driving him crazy. He dove between her skirt, reaching for her panties and he played at her apex, noticing that she was incredibly wet, which only turned him on more.

Petra keened and threw her head back in pleasure as he began lavishing her neck with kisses and suckled at her jawline, happy that she tasted as beautiful as she looked. A light floral perfume danced across her flesh, and he inhaled her as he undid the headband from her hair, freeing the locks so he could bury his nose between them.

“Professor, ah, can you please touch me?” She asked weakly, eyes clenched shut from Levi’s ministrations and he chuckled.

“Only because you’ve been such a good student,” he whispered into her ear, and she nodded as he slipped a finger in, and pleasured sighs escaped both of their lips.

“God, you’re so fucking wet. Were you planning on this before you came in?” Levi asked, using his other hand to unbuckle his pants and slid down his zipper.

Petra was finding it harder and harder to think as Levi pumped into her, alternating between two and three fingers, teasing her clit and taking his hands away before she could go any higher. Vision going blurry, she reached for the back of her bra and undid the hook, letting it fall between them and Levi ripped it off, freeing her breasts.

He took a nipple between his teeth and bit down hard, earning a cry from Petra as she begged him to keep touching her while he buried his face into her chest. Petra moved to play with both of her nipples, all while riding against his hand and she felt like her heart was about to explode from Levi’s touch.

She slid her tongue against his lips, drinking him in as she asked him to help slide her panties down, and he obliged, but not before pocketing them into his pants. She shot him a questioning look, and he smirked, “This is my thank-you gift.”

Bashfully, Petra smiled and pawed him between his underwear, stroking his length up and down with her hand and she pulled his waist down just far enough to free his member. She gasped at his size, and Levi let out a hum of satisfaction while she took a moment to gaze at it, providing him with light touches.

“Levi, can I ride you?” She asked demurely, eyes fixated on his dick and he gripped her by the ass to guide her close.

Leaning over, he whispered into her ear, “That’s Professor Ackerman to you.”

Petra keened at his husky voice, and lowered herself onto him, moaning loudly as he breached her, dick hot against her tight entrance.

“That’s a good girl,” he encouraged, holding her close as she steadily bobbed up and down, her wetness providing enough slickness between them. His balls smacked against his legs, and her tits bounced each time she reached his hilt and she cried out.

Wild with lust, Levi toyed with her clit as she continued to ride him, fingers dancing and shaking as she paused to catch her breath. Their eyes met, and with equal fervor, they kissed as Petra braced her hands against his shoulders, pace increasing and then reaching her climax in a frenzy as she bobbed up and down.

“Professor,” she whined, releasing her hands and crying into his collar as she rode out her orgasm.

Levi’s eyes were clenched shut as her walls fluttered around him, her tightness becoming too much for him as he also met his own pleasure, and he pumped into her in short pulses. Breaths panting, he looked up to meet Petra, who was smiling between breaths.

Still sitting comfortably inside her, Levi laughed warily, unsure of where to go from here. Petra, still wrapping her body around his, licked the lobe of his ear as she said sultrily into his ear, “Did that count as extra credit?”

#rivetra #rivetra fanfiction #Levi x petra #petra x levi #petra ral #my fics

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years ago

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The Arrangement Chapter 9

Series Summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi.

Chapter Summary: Getting your bearings at BigHit

Previous chapter here ---------------------------

It’s fine it’s fine, Yoongi kept repeating to himself this morning after you had left to go to the security office. I’m not even home that often, it’s not her fault. He slipped on a t-shirt and jeans and went downstairs. He put his dishes away and looked in the foyer. Two suitcases and a backpack were sitting there. He couldn’t believe this was all you had. That’s it. He sighed and picked up the bags, wheeling them over to the guest bedroom. He looked around the room and frowned. He would need to order a few more blankets. He took out his phone and ordered some quickly. He walked into the guest bathroom. No towels. He placed an order for those as well. Even if you ended up living somewhere else, it was good to have extra towels and blankets, he reasoned with himself.

He checked his calendar and yours. You should still be in the security office with Namjoon. He had already texted Hobi earlier.

Y:WTF dude, I thought you were my friend

JHOOOOOOPE: I brought a nice looking girl to your house, how is that not nice **angel**

Y: You can’t just drop someone off into someone else’s house without asking!

JHOOOOOOPE: It’s not my fault no one told you. I was told to deliver your new assistant to your apartment because you needed her to be available to whims at all times. I do what I’m told like every other person who works here. **shrug** it could be worse. I could use an assistant. Send her my way if it doesn’t work **Grin**

Y: >=(

Yoongi walked off the Elevator and saw Namjoon’s smug face there "What the hell is wrong with you?" Yoongi growled, walking up to him. He was surprised he didn’t see you anywhere.

"Not now Yoongi, I have a meeting in 15 minutes." Namjoon sighed. That fucking prick.

"You just dropped a girl into my house without telling me and think I'm not going to have something to say about it?"

"You knew she was starting today. You agreed that the two of you were going through with all of this. What did you think that meant? Huh?" Namjoon said, almost bored.

"Why don't I get a say in any of this?" Yoongi raised his voice, exasperated.

"You did. You picked her." Namjoon said calmly as he pushed the up button on the elevator.

"This is such bullshit!" he yelled. You walked around the corner, surprising him.

The elevator for Namjoon arrived and he got on it, not bothering to look back.

You walked closer to Yoongi. "Hey. I'm sorry this was a surprise for you. It was to me too. I thought I would be in a dorm with a bunch of other girls." You gave him a sympathetic look.

He took off his hat and ran his hands through his hair. "I'm sorry it's not you. It's just...ughhh…" He put the hat back on.

"Really. It's fine. It seems like Namjoon isn't interested in our opinions though, huh? I'm a good roommate. I'm quiet and I clean up after myself. And I can cook."

Yoongi wasn’t angry at you, so his feelings had morphed into pouting at this point. "It's fine I put your bags in the guest bedroom." He pushed a button on the elevator. He sighed

"Thanks Yoongi." you said, standing next to him.

“And I can cook too. So don’t think that’s part of your job or anything.”

“Now what kind of wife would I be if I didn’t cook for you,” You teased as the doors opened up. You were surprised to see him blushing. He hit the button for the 12th floor, feeling like a total idiot.

You looked so cute and professional. He tried to not think about the fact you had seen him in his underwear that morning. He looked down, mumbling something, hoping you wouldn’t notice how embarrassed he was. He was eager to just get to his studio. He understood abstractly that the two of you would be spending time together but now that it was actually happening, he felt awkward and shy. And vaguely annoyed by everyone else. He got off the elevator with you following. “What are you doing exactly?” He turned and asked.

“I’m your assistant. I’m supposed to help you. Do I have a desk or anything? There wasn’t really an orientation. There isn’t anything on the calendar for the rest of the day.”

“Oh. Ok. Umm take the rest of the day off…? Go unpack?” He shrugged.

You scowled. “That doesn’t seem particularly helpful especially since you want me to move out.”

Yoongi sighed and continued to move down the hallway, “You don’t need to do that. There,” he pointed. “That’s Jiwoo. She’s the office manager for this floor. Ask her if she knows anything. I need to get to my studio.”

You had so many more questions but you didn’t want to bother Yoongi.“Ok. See you later.” You turned and walked over to the woman he had indicated to.

Yoongi continued on to his studio. He had no idea if you had a desk or not. He hadn’t really put thought into it. He cursed himself for not thinking to ask Namjoon about any of this. He detested appearing as though he didn’t know something, which unfortunately meant he hadn’t asked questions when he should have. Oh well. He hoped Jiwoo could straighten it out. Otherwise he would later today. He typed in his pass code and walked into his studio. Fortunately he felt inspired this morning and went straight for his notebook.

“Hello. Excuse me?” You said as you walked up to the desk of the woman who had been identified to you as the office manager. She appeared to be older than you; her hair cut into a bob, she also had super cute glasses. She looked up.

“Yes, can I help you with something?”

“I’m Mr. Min’s new assistant, [Y/N]. Today is my first day and nobody really seems sure what to do with me.”

She laughed. “That doesn’t surprise me at all. They all do a great job with the big picture around here. But the details? That’s my specialty.” She stood up. “Follow me. Your desk is over here, near the lounge area. It’s a little noisy, but it’s across from the coffee maker. Which is important because Min Yoongi loves coffee.”

“Yes, thank you. That is like one of the only things I do know.” You smiled, grateful for any help.

“You don’t have a company laptop yet. I would expect it by Monday. You can do most things via the App though. If something does come up, let me know and we can work something out. Now, if you walk around the corner here,” she led the way. “We have some empty studios. If you ever need to rent space for any reason, they are available under the App. Mr. Min has his own studio so you shouldn’t need to book any spots unless you are helping with a collaborator. Speaking of, here is his studio. Good luck with that.” She pointed down to the doormat which had a cat flipping you both off. You laughed. You looked at the plate by the door. “Min Suga. Genius Lab.”

“Humble. Nice.” You pointed at the placard.

“He is really good though.” She said thoughtfully. She began to move down the rest of the hallway, pointing out the restrooms and arriving back at her desk. “Also, don’t wait up on him. He’s in there most of the time. Follow your calendar. If you try to follow his, you’ll never sleep or you’ll end up with a sleeping disorder. Seriously. He sleeps in there sometimes.” She sat back down at her desk.

Your eyes bugged out a little bit at this. Damn that was some dedication. You hoped he at least had a futon in there then. Jeeze. “Alright. Thanks so much. I appreciate it.”

You almost wished you would have kept your desk plant now, looking at the empty space. You had a few office items in the bags in Yoongi’s house but nothing really worth going back for. A message popped up on your phone. **ORDER READY MIN YOONGI #2983627** You clicked on it. Apparently there was an order at the store ready for Yoongi. Because there was a store in the company building. Huh. Ok. I guess this is part of my job now. You looked up where the store was and headed down to the 2nd floor. It appeared to be a multipurpose grocery and home-goods store with also a few clothing items. Looking around you found the *Pick up online order* section and walked over. You queued up and recognized the perfectly coiffed blonde hair of Namjoon’s assistant.

You gave him a light tap on the shoulder. “Hey!”

Jimin turned around, surprised to see the girl from the interview last week standing behind him. “Hey you.” He smiled, “so you got the job?”

You nodded. “Yep. Sorry again about last week. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He laughed, his eyes turning into adorable crescent-moons “I’m sorry I literally yelled “shit” at you. So I think we’re even.” He stuck out a hand, “Park Jimin. Nice to officially meet you.” You shook it. “I see you have figured out some stuff. You’ll be on the 14th floor with Yoongi right?”

“Yep. I just got my desk. That’s it. The rest of the day doesn’t have anything and he hasn't given me anything to do yet.”

Jimin turned to move forward in line, with you following suit. He turned back, “Well Yoongi hasn’t had an assistant before but if he’s anything like Namjoon he’ll figure out a million things for you to do soon. Once they get used to it they forget how to even use food delivery apps or how to do their own laundry.” He shook his head. “To clarify: I don’t do his laundry. I coordinate the dry cleaning.”

“And here I was imagining you washing Namjoon’s undies.” You teased, causing him to laugh some more.

“Noooo stop. I don’t want that mental image.” Jimin licked his lips. “If you’re not doing anything later you should join me and Tae for drinks. Not at Club Tokki.” You raised your eyebrows. “Sorry, I peeked at your resume. Think about it and let me know.” He cut the conversation short as it was his turn in line. He concluded his business at the counter quickly. He turned around, carrying a few paper bags. “I’ll see you around.”

You waved, “Alright, I’ll text you about later.” It felt so nice to be included on your first day. He seemed fun. You stepped up and held the QR code up for them to scan. You were handed two paper bags and a larger plastic one. You took them and stepped aside, reading the stapled receipt paper. **PINK TOWELS X 4** on one of the bags. **QUEEN SIZE BLANKET WHITE X 2** on the larger one. He bought me blankets and towels!?!?! You took the bags back to the apartment. Yoongi had taken your bags and put them nicely in the corner of your room. You were pretty sure this stuff was for the guest bedroom and bathroom but you didn’t want to seem presumptuous.

YN: Hey! I picked up your order from the store. Where should I put the towels and blankets?

You waited a few minutes, unpacking one of your bags.

Y: Those are for you. The washing machine is upstairs in the hallway.

YN: Thank you so much. Pink is my favorite color!

Y: :]

You went and started a load of towels and continued to unpack. Holy shit. This was weird. You went back upstairs with the blankets. The upstairs loft area had a more lived in feel to it, with blankets strewn over a black couch, a large tv, and a video game system. There was also a keyboard in the corner. There was a short hallway containing a closet and the washer and dryer. You assumed the door at the end of the hallway led to his room. You were a very private person yourself, so you weren’t about to intrude on that. You honestly felt weird being in the loft area, it felt as though the lower level was for show and this was where Yoongi actually lived.

You moved some more laundry around and decided to head back to the office. You still weren’t sure about joining Jimin for drinks tonight. You decided you would wait and see what the laundry status was. You set a timer on your phone and went back to the office. You stopped by the lounge area and made a coffee for yourself while preparing a coffee for Yoongi. Another ping on your phone.

***EVENT ADDED SATURDAY 6 PM***

Retirement Party for Lee Soobin Akioko Flame Restaurant

The espresso stopped dripping. You added the water and then poured it over ice. You walked over to the studio and gave the door a knock. No answer.

You huffed in slight irritation while trying to get your phone out one-handed.

YN: It’s me. I have coffee.

Y: Leave it by the door.

YN: :( But someone could kick it over

Yoongi took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

Y: Give me a minute.

He got to what he deemed was a good stopping point and walked over to the door, opening it the slightest bit.

“Here you go.” You handed him the iced coffee.

He took it, eyeing you suspiciously. “What?” You said, exasperated. You had lovingly hand-crafted this brew.

“You like shitty coffee so I’m worried.” He took a sip. His eyebrows went up. “This is not shitty. This is good. Where did you get it from?” He noticeably relaxed, the doorway opening slightly more.

“I made it using the espresso maker in the break room.” You said. “I worked in a coffee shop before I was old enough to work in bars. Shitty coffee has to do more with sleep deprivation than actual preferences.”

“True true.” He said, his lips pouting as he took another sip. The sound of a phone ringing in the studio cut through the air. He scowled, making no attempt to answer it.

“Is that your work phone?” You asked.

“Yes. I imagine it’s Jimin or one of BPD’s assistants.”

“So...shouldn’t you answer it?” You asked.

Yoongi shrugged and walked into his office, not bothering to shut the door. You took this as a slight invitation and followed him in. You took a brief look around before the phone rang again and you identified it’s location. You walked over and picked it up. “Genius Lab. This is [Y/N] speaking.”

Yoongi turned around to ask what the fuck you were doing but then you had sounded so professional, he just plopped down in his work chair instead, a dumbfounded look on his face.

“I’m not sure. I’ll find out and get back with you. What’s the number?” You took out your phone and typed the information in. “Ok yes. Thank you.” You hung up the phone.

“What are you doing exactly?” He asked. You weren’t sure if he was angry, amused, or confused. He was difficult to read sometimes.

You smirked. “Being your assistant. Would you like me to have this phone forward to mine so it doesn’t ring in here?”

Yoongi’s eyes grew slightly wider, “You can do that?”

“Yep. There’s an app for it.” You responded, happy some of your previous office experience actually translated to this position.

“Yes. Please God yes.” He said quickly.

You laughed, setting up the forwarding application. You picked up the phone to see what the number of the studio was. “Alright. I can at least triage some of the calls for you.” You said, satisfied with yourself. “Also. Ew.” You eyed a few take-out containers and coffee cups. “I’m coming back for...this.” You gestured to the room and excused yourself to get a trash bag.

Yoongi sat there slightly dazed. He rarely let anyone into his studio and yet you had just come in, fixed his phone anxiety issue, and also scolded him. He scrolled through his phone, seeing the event on Saturday. It was annoying but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad with you and J-Hope there. Maybe. Even if it all was a stupid pretend performance.

You retrieved a trash bag from the break room and came back. You started cleaning without saying anything. It was becoming obvious that Jiwoo had spoken the truth, Yoongi really did spend most of his time in here. You made your way around the surfaces, throwing trash away. To your shock, Yoongi just sat there, drinking his coffee and scrolling through his phone.

“Thanks again for the towels and blankets. It was very thoughtful of you.”

“No problem.”

“Are we going to the party on Saturday?”

Yoongi looked up at you, “Sure.”

And just like that, you had committed to your first event at BigHit. “Alright, I’ll let Jin know.”

Yoongi shifted in his seat slightly, “is that who called?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Has he hit on you yet?”He asked casually, belying the fact that he was actually very interested in how you would react to the infamous flirt.

You giggled. You were almost all the way done tidying up. “Of course. Have you seen his face? He had to let me know how in demand it is at all times.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, him and Namjoon stopped by the bar last week. Idiots.”

“Agreed.” Yoongi felt his body become more at ease with your answer. He didn’t know why he cared.

You looked around the spartan room. “Alright. I’m all done. Do you need anything else?”

Yoongi put his phone down. “Just to get back to my writing.”

You were so very curious but you didn’t want to intrude. “Sure thing. See you later.” You picked up your trash bag and left the room, shutting the door behind you. You were honestly surprised at how easy your day had been so far. You sat the trash bag down by your cubicle, unsure of where to deposit it. A text to Jiwoo about the dumpster and an RSVP to Jin about the party on Saturday and your day was almost done. You dropped the garbage off on your way to the apartment to switch out laundry. You were getting tired.

YN: Hey! I’m going to take a rain check for tonight. I am so tired and I still need to unpack ;-; I do want to though, so don’t think I’m blowing you off. Lunch tomorrow?

JM: Shit I totally forgot you would need to unpack and everything. Sorry. No worries. Also, check your schedule, we have a huge design meeting around lunch time so they will most likely have it catered. I’ll buy you a drink on Saturday if you actually get Yoongi to attend.

You raised your eyebrows. It was on the schedule clear as day, on you and Yoongi’s calendar. Why wouldn’t he attend?

YN: Of course he’ll be there. Why wouldn’t he be?

JM: HAHAHAHA good luck. See you tomorrow!

It was already after five so you didn’t bother going back down to the office. You finished the laundry and finished your unpacking. And then you stood in the apartment just staring. The sun had gone down and the windows had a lovely view of the city. You could see part of the river and one of the many lit up bridges. You turned on the kitchen light. Shit. You had no idea what the food situation looked like here. Your stomach growled. You took some rice out of the cooker, leaving enough for Yoongi and sat at the countertop.

You opened up your personal email. You had paid the dorm deposit for your brother, using your “disappear in the middle of the night and change your name again” emergency fund to pay for it. It had scared the shit out of you to pull all your money from savings and you still were secretly afraid that the job was lying about how much money it would pay you. Before you knew it, it was 9.

YN: Hey, I ate some of the rice but I don’t want to just go through your kitchen. Do you want me to order or make anything?

No response. Ok. He was probably busy. You rifled through the cabinets. If his office was any indicator there should be at least a few ramyeon packs you could eat and replace. Bingo. You made a spicy prawn one and texted one more time.

YN: I owe you a spicy prawn ramyeon pack. Thanks again for everything. See you tomorrow.

You set the coffee maker for the next day and brush your teeth. You nestled into your new bed complete with one of your new fluffy blankets. You couldn't remember the last time you had your own bedroom. It was before your sister was born. The two of you had always shared a room. And then 7 years ago you started sharing a room with her and your niece. You took a deep breath, feeling as though you were letting 7 years of bullshit go all at once. If only it were all so simple. NEXT CHAPTER @lidda @anpanman-sonyeondan @firefairy1 @cuteipat @sugaslittlekookies @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny

#bts fic #BTS suga #bts scenarios #bts suga x you #suga x you #suga x reader #suga x y/n #yoongi scenarios #bts yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts yoongi x reader #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts writing

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pretend-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Kid Of The Future (Chapter 5)

Mini-Series

Summary: After time traveling from the apocalypse in 2019, a surprise waits for Diego and Y/N as they arrive at Dallas, Texas circa 1960.

Pairing: Hargreeves x sibling!reader, Diego Hargreeves x reader

Word Count: 2.7k words

Warning: mention of violence, mention of sex, swearing

✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤

'This is an easy fix, do I even need to spell it out?' Five blurted, getting frustrated about the plan of getting back to 2019.

'Yes, Five. I need you to spell out exactly what you mean because if so, that is so messed up.' I yelled at my kid brother. I knew what Five was implying when he said "it was an easy fix." I would never get rid of Bel and if Five tried anything, I would fight him.

Luther sighed, 'Guys can we please not fight about this again?'

'No. It's always Five bringing up bullshit that no one agrees on and he expects everyone to listen to him.'

'That kid doesn't even belong in our timeline. We cannot bring her to 2019. We barely escaped that apocalypse, I'm not going through that shit again Y/N.'

'So you think I'm going to trade off my baby to the psychopath? You must really be crazy Five.'

Allison jumped in, 'I agree with Y/N. You out of everyone knows what The Handler is capable of. Do you really want to hand off an innocent kid to her?'

'Do you know why she wants her? For her to be so desperate to hand us a briefcase? The kid can be some assassin from the future that The Handler wants.'

'More reason for me to keep Bel.' I crossed my arms, 'Maybe she became an assassin because you decided to hand her to The Handler and she's seeking revenge.'

Klaus nodded, 'Y/N makes a great argument Five. I'm sorry but I don't think it's a good idea to give sweet Bel away.'

Groaning loudly, Five balled his fists. 'You imbeciles are so.... ugh.'

'So if The Handler wanted Deloris in exchange for the briefcase, you're saying it's okay?' I raised my eyebrows, watching my brother's response.

Luther laughed but immediately stopped as Five glared at him. 'So how do we plan to go back to 2019?'

Allison licked her lips, holding in her laugh as she made eye contact with me. Honestly, I didn't think convincing Five would be so easy. I should've thought Deloris was the key to breaking him.

'You take me with you to the Commission. Simple as that.'

'Woah, woah.' Diego jumped in, 'Just the two of you? Are you crazy?'

'No, I'm not.' I turned back to Five, 'So what do you think?'

Vanya cocked her head, 'Is this really safe? Shouldn't we all go together and help each other?'

'Ah, no offense Vanya but taking you would be a terrible idea considering the fact that you ended the world in 2019.' Luther flashed an awkward smile.

Five, Allison and Diego groaned in sync, Klaus hitting Luther on his forearm. 'You dummy! Why would you bring that up?'

'Guys, it's fine.' Vanya smiled, 'Let's just figure out a safe and effective way to go back without turning Bel away.'

I smirked, clapping my hands cheerfully. 'Don't worry, I have a plan. Five will love this.'

He rolled his eyes, 'Ugh. Can't wait to hear it.'

✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤

Diego walked in the room after putting Bel to sleep in her room, sighing as he sat on the bed next to where I was laying down. 'Are you up?'

Turning around to face him, I nodded. 'Yeah.'

'Ah.' Diego scooted a little bit closer to me, biting his lips as he figured out what words to say next. 'Uhm, I'm sorry about yesterday.'

'What do you mean?'

'The things I said before you left to the alley.'

My eyes immediately shifted away from him, embarrassed about what I told him while I was intoxicated. I wish that I could take whatever I said back to him, I hated the awkward tension between us.

'Don't know what you're talking about but don't worry about it.' Pretending that I was too drunk to remember, I tried to brush everything off.

'It's not okay because I was lying, Y/N.' Diego looked down, started to fiddle with the bed sheets. 'I care about you, a lot. I was too scared to talk to you because I didn't know how you felt. I honestly thought it was just a casual thing between us, or at least I thought that's how you felt about me.'

That was a surprising thing to hear, thinking that the response I got from him yesterday at the salon was the truth. I didn't think that Diego would think of me as more than a friend, despite the things we did.

I've always assumed everything we've done was just casual, I tried so hard to suppress my feelings I had for him.

'I thought that you thought the same thing. I'm sorry I brought it up out of nowhere last night. It had been a while since I had alcohol.'

'No, no.' He softly grabbed my forearm, it was a comfort touch that I loved from him. 'I'm kind of glad you did. If you hadn't, I don't think I'd had the guts to tell you all of this right now.'

Smiling at him as he rubbed on my arm, I sat up next to him. 'Well, thank you for telling me.'

Diego nodded, softly smiling at me and enjoying my touch. 'Please be careful tomorrow when you go out with Five. I don't even know who this woman is but she sounds dangerous.'

'I'll be fine, I promise.'

He nodded, 'Uhm, you still don't want me to come with you guys?'

'Five and I will be just fine on our own. Don't worry. Besides, the less of us we have will be better. We're trying not to draw attention to ourselves.'

Diego seemed unconvinced, he always worried about things he didn't know what to expect. Especially with this mystery lady that Diego knows nothing about, I knew he was scared.

'Stop, don't think about it.' I scooted towards him, rubbing my hand on his forearm as I tried to calm him down.

He looked me in my eyes and slowly came closer, leaning into me as he cupped my cheek with his hand. I leaned closer, our lips touching as I gently started to kiss him.

'Daaaaad, the aliens are coming after me!' Bel's scream echoed through the entire apartment, I wouldn't be surprised if our neighbors heard her.

'Mood killer.' Diego sighed as he pulled away. As I giggled, he rolled his eyes. 'I bet you're happy she started calling for me instead of you. She needs to start calling for her mama.'

'Very happy.' I grinned, 'I've been waiting for this day where I don't have to get out the bed after her screams.'

Diego got up lazily, 'Someday when I get old, I'm gonna keep calling her name every ten minutes for her to come get me too.'

✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤ · ✤

Crouching down as soon as Five helped me get to The Commission, he looked around nervously. I knew that he was some sort of legend around here, helped them assassin many people in the past to fix the timeline and what-not.

'The Handler's gone in the 50s but she could be back anytime. I'll leave to go get the suitcase while you switch up to The Handler and you try to distract them from me. Please for the love of Deloris, don't leave her office. We can't be caught.'

'Speaking of.' I pulled up a mask, handing it to my brother as I smiled. 'Your famous self can cover up with this.'

It was a mask that fairly looked like the ones ChaCha and Hazel wore, except it was a bunny and I honestly thought it would look good on him.

'The fuck do I look like wearing that?' Five looked disgusted. 'I'm not wearing that thing.'

'Yes, you are. If they find you, this is over. We are never going back home.'

Five decided to ignore me and change the subject. 'Why don't you turn into The Handler first and maybe I'll wear that mask.'

'Ew, she reeked of strong perfume and I'd rather just wait. Besides, I asked you first.'

'Okay, I asked you next.'

'Five, please don't play with me.'

He squinted his eyes, 'You wanna be childish, I'll act like you so you know how annoying it is.'

'I swear Fi-'

The sound of the door nob startled us both, not expecting anyone to come into her office especially without knocking. That queued me to morph into The Handler quickly, rehearsing how she sounded like in my head so I wouldn't be caught by these people.

'Oh, mom. So glad you're back from the trip.' A girl, probably the same age as us Hargreeves, ran up to hug me. She pulled away and looked over next to me. 'Who's this midget?'

I looked over and saw Five wearing the mask I got him. I smiled at myself softly, happy that Five decided to wear it. I knew he didn't have a choice but the fact that he took the mask over running away into thin air made me feel like I did something right.

'Ah- my new recruit. Trying to find him the perfect partner for this new mission I have lined up.'

The girl stared at him, 'Nice to meet you.'

Five just stood still, possibly staring back at her too. I figured he didn't speak because she would've figured out who he was as soon as she heard his voice, so I didn't force anything on him.

'Ah, not much of a talker. Such a professional assassin move.' She grinned and looked back at me. 'Speaking of assassins, why don't you take me to the mission with him. I can be his partner.

'Uhm, no. You can't go.'

The girl groaned, 'Why? I'm old enough you know? You trained me since I was a child for stuff like this and you're not even letting me use my talent. Instead it's always "Lila do this stupid thing" and honestly I'm so bored now.'

'You know I just care about you, right Lila?' I'm so glad she said her name because I was panicking not knowing what else to say. 'You're too important to me and I just can't risk that.'

'Whatever, mom. I asked to go to the Hargreeves mission with you and you didn't let me go so I know that's bull.'

In my mind I was screaming, I wanted this girl to leave so we can get the briefcase and get out of here. 'Five isn't a priority right now and frankly, he's a harmless boy. It was a quick job and I didn't need another person with me.'

'Not Five, Belinda Hargreeves. You told me you'd take me with you and you just left me, knowing I was asleep. Why would you do that, I was so excited to take her down.'

She must be talking about the night The Handler visited me, I thought to myself. The stories were slowly lining up. 'Well, she's just a baby. I figured I didn't have to wake you up and I'd just take care of her myself.'

'Just a baby? Mom, you wouldn't shut up about her being this next big thing The Commission needed and now she's just a baby to you?'

'I think you'll best fit that position anyway. Maybe it's time for us to move on from that.'

Lila chuckled, 'You're kidding me right? This kid has like one of the best powers I've seen. Even the Hargreeves siblings don't have that much talent. You really want to turn that down now?'

It was hard to contain my confused and my urge to beat this girl up. It annoyed me that Lila was talking about my daughter as if she was some experiment, and now she's talking about her having some powers. The frustration didn't help either when I had to stay in character.

'Are you sure that's Belinda Hargreeves we're talking about? That harmless looking baby? Surely we're talking about some other kid.'

'Mom, you clearly need sleep or you're doing drugs or something because you really don't sound right. We need her here, that was your saying. Literally, last night you told me that and now you're changing your mind?'

'There's just things in mind I need to consider before I take that route.'

Lila laughed, 'Okay mom. Whatever it is, I hope you make the right decision for us.'

'Yeah sure.'

She shook her head as she slowly walked to the door. 'You are acting a little weird so I'll leave you to it mom. Take a nap, rethink it. I'm sure you'll change you mind again.'

'I can't believe this.' I heard shuffling from behind as the door shut behind Lila. 'All that girl said was true, the powers and everything.'

Quickly rushing next to Five with doubt still on my mind, I snatched the file from his hand.

Everything about her was there; Her name, her birthdate and birthplace. All the information I knew nothing about was here in my face.

'October 1st, 1989...' I mumbled as I continued to read the rest of her file. 'Sh-she has powers. I-I don't understand.'

'So technically Bel's our sister.' Five blurted, 'How did she get to the 60s with us?'

None of what Five was saying was sinking into my brain. The reason why The Handler was hunting me and my family down made sense, how Bel was probably going to end up being their next soldier that does their dirty work.

Five looked over at me, realizing that I was having a hard time processing everything. 'Y/N, don't worry. We will figure this out, okay? We won't abandon her, I promise.'

'But she's one of us. She somehow ended up in our hands and now-' I was trying to put all the information in my head and tried to make sense out of this.'

'Y/N, Y/N. Breathe, it's okay. The Handler doesn't know that we know, we're one step ahead of her. It's perfect.' Five nodded his head. 'We have the upper hand and we can get rid of her before she tried to her Belinda.'

It was nice to see this side of Five, especially when I was freaking out about this huge news. Even thought it was a bit weird. I turned to Five, 'Why are you being nice to me?'

'Honestly, it's hard given the fact that you look like that.' He chuckled lightly, looking me up and down in my "The Handler costume." 'You seemed to grow fond of her and knowing The Handler, I don't know what she's going to do to her. I've worked with her my whole life and I didn't even know she had a daughter.'

I raised my brows, 'Wow. How brotherly of you.'

'You know, I try but you all are annoying and stupid for me to care sometimes.'

'And there's the brother that we all know and love.'

He rolled his eyes, 'Bel is going to outsmart all of you guys. Not to mention she has ecokinesis.'

'Sounds like you're obsessed with this child now.' I smiled, 'I love that you love her.'

'Whatever helps you sleep at night, Y/N.'

I looked at Five and smiled, it was unbelievable to almost impossible that our beloved brother had sympathy for how I was handling this news. 'Thanks Five, really. Don't know what I'll do if I lost her.'

'You won't, you got us now to have your back.'

'Are you really Five or are you a shapeshifter too?'

'Just trying to be nice, for once.' Five's smile went away as he became serious. 'But if you tell anyone about this, I'll figure out a way to send you to a different dimension.'

I laughed lightly, nudging my brother as he got to leave. 'I try to keep the secret to myself.'

Despite Five's thoughtfulness and caring words, I was scared. Even with my family by my side, the reality was that Bel didn't belong here either. Not only was Belinda warped from 1989 for some odd reason but The Handler really wanted to get her, as if she had something planned for her.

Nothing was making sense, starting from the reason why she was out of her timeline but none of that mattered. The only thing that mattered was keeping my child safe from that freak.

No matter what it takes, I was determined to protect my daughter. Nothing was going to stop me.

#tua series #the umbrella academy fic #tua fics #diego hargreeves fics #diego hargreeves x reader

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aspiring-wildfire · 4 years ago

Text

MAG 178

Ooh back in Meatville™️

I am once again asking Basira to be nice to Jon

Martin reminding them to treat all the victims as people!!! Good for u bb I love u

“Why are they queuing?” “It’s a factory of the flesh. Use your imagination.” “...no. No, I don’t think I will” yeah good call babe

“I hate all of these loose ends... we’ll just have to tie them all up in one go, hmm? Around Elias’s neck.” MARTIN KARTIN BLACKWOOD TGE FLIP FROM ABSOLUTE COMPASSION TO MURDEROUS ANTI ELIAS THOUGHTS FUCKING STELLAR ILY BABY

“Tool cupboard. Safe enough place to wait.” “Fine.” *door opens* “Nope.” Martin you’re a fucking gem

“Could be worse, at least they’re clean” Jon you’re my favorite person in the whole wide world you fucking dork

Snarky Jon is my favorite Jon

Oh the concept of your “processing” being inevitable but the fear of it being pointless, of not being useful is rly interesting

The contract thing is very sign your life away I love it when Jonny says “fuck capitalism”

Yknow I wasn’t sure why bureaucracy was part of the flesh but it actually makes a lot of sense- the flesh is all about the fear that you’re just meat, and the uncaring bureaucracy goes a long way towards that depersonalization

Ohhh and that gives the whole “your pain is inevitable but it could be worse- it could be useless, pointless” thing a new level bc that’s what capitalism’s all about- accept your suffering, even be proud of it, bc you’re useful like this

God fuck capitalism man

Oof and the branding Jonny’s rly coming for capitalism’s dehumanizing “eat you up and spit you out” process w no qualifications or anything huh

“At last, the prospect of seeing what might happen if he runs from the line seems worth it to Tyler, but the realization sets in that it is far, far too late for that” god the whole idea of people’s fear of stepping out of line bc what if that’s even worse finally being overcome by the understanding that it couldn’t be worse than this but it’s too late to leave and you’ve missed your chance... shit man

“He could refuse. A final, petty act of rebellion against a system it feels like he has run through a hundred times. But what would be the point of that? It won’t save him. A wasted pile of discarded tissue is all that would be left. Is it not better, at least, to be useful?” God the absolute raw lines in this one fuck man I really get how you can expand very real societal systems into overwhelming cosmic horror through this it’s amazing and also oh my god

Amazing job Jonny

Also alex on the soundscaping! I’m having a Bad Time

Martin defending Jon to Basira!!! I’m soft

Martin continuing to treat the victims as people I love my boy

“Recognize her.” “...no. I don’t think I do” “that wasn’t a question” Jon forcing Basira to confront daisy’s police brutality!! Good job hun!! Acab!!!

“Someone has died! Show some respect! Or don’t you care?” get her Martin

“Daisy’s the only person I could ever rely on, and she... she did things, terrible things, and I... I refused to see it, or, said it was my duty, or whatever. I don’t know.”

THE BREAKDOWN OF THE SEIGE MENTALITY FUCK YEAH DUDE

“I wanted to help people, you know? When I first joined. Protect people. But then I saw what some of those same people were capable of, and... something changed. I wanted to hurt them, the ones that deserved it, and it... it felt good. It felt righteous. I thought I could feel the line though. I really did. Eventually, though, it was too much... I was going to quit. I couldn't take what I saw myself becoming. But... then I got sectioned, and suddenly... suddenly it turned out there were real monsters out there, and, well, that just made the power feel better. So things kept slipping. But Daisy was always there for me.” “All those innocent people...” “Were they? Innocent?” “Some. And if not? What crime warrants what was done to them?” 👏👏👏👏

“She was trying to be better” “she was. But she never asked me to forgive her.” “Forgive her?” “I’ve been scared, terrified for my life so many times these last few years. But I’ve never, not once, felt so horribly, abjectly, powerless as when she took me into that forest to kill me. I’ll never forget it.” Jon having the police brutality he faced as the most traumatic event of his life when he’s been so thoroughly traumatized in so many ways really drives that point home god

“Would you have forgiven her?” “No. But she never asked me. She knew she had no right.”

I’m very torn bc while I do totally get why a lot of people hate daisy and it’s absolutely fair I’m still sad that practically the only person who was really there for Jon in season four isn’t gonna be able to come back. I just want my boy to have a support network man

“No one gets what they deserve. Not in this place. They just get whatever hurts them the most. Even me.” I AM CONCERNED

#im really worried about jon man #jonathan sims defense squad #2k always #tma #the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #basira hussein #alice daisy tonner #mag 178

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canyouhearthelight · 4 years ago

Text

The Miys, Ch. 105

I’ve managed to get slightly ahead on these, so: A belated thank you to @littleshydragon, @dark-chocolat-cupcake, @overusedblur, and @allegrochicken for all the love I have seen blowing up my notes recently (I’m queuing this on Aug 25, even if it won’t post until Sept 8).

Also, to the 30 new followers who I have somehow acquired: Welcome! Ask box is always open, and I don’t get nearly enough of them. I love to interact with y’all, so don’t be afraid to ask me every little question you think of as you read. Anon is on if you feel you need that.

Other than that, thanks for this chapter goes out to @baelpenrose for beta reading. Also @quantumizedinsanity, @charlylimph-blog, @wildforestferret, @creakingcryptid, for the characters you gave me to play with in chapters like this.

Later that same ‘day’, I was forcefully reminded of Noah’s observation regarding human communication. Things were generally calm, and an impromptu family meal-snack-thing was happening in my quarters. Antoine had been over to visit, as he seemed to be making up for lost time caused by infiltrating Jokul’s accidental cult. Zach and Hannah were over, as well, so when dinner time rolled around, I just threw together some small po-boy sandwiches and banh mi for us to snack on while we kept visiting, rather than making a full meal.

Hey, I was allowed lazy days, too.

As it happened sometimes, conversation turned to things we either did or didn’t miss from Before. Tonight was very firmly in the ‘do not miss’ category.

“Plagues started by dumb experiments,” Maverick pointed out, smirking.

Catching on, Conor swatted him playfully. “I said I was sorry about that! And Else is an alright person, turns out.”

Snorting, Hannah covered her face with one hand. “Tell that to Nixe.”

“Her new tail is gorgeous,” I gushed. “If I got reparations like that, I’d at least consider forgiving someone.”

“For almost killing you?”

“It was an accident,” I brushed the comment off, reminded of explaining that gesture to Noah. “Besides, there are a lot of other things I genuinely don’t miss.”

“Aunt Flo,” Hannah intoned seriously.

“Tyche and I already did that one, so it’s not admissible,” I admonished. “But spoiled food? Do not miss.”

Zach shuddered. “Hell, that’s not even from Before. I don’t miss that at all.”

Antoine lifted his coffee in a mock-toast. “To all the people we lost to antibiotics.” After a few confused looks banded around the room, I laughed and waved at him to clarify. Rolling his eyes dramatically, he sighed. “Bread mold. This is why people died in the After of antibiotic allergies: they didn’t know it was derived from bread mold.”

“Dude, that’s dark,” Zach whispered.

Clearing his throat, Conor soldiered on. “I never lived through one, but wildfires were pretty bad, yeah?”

Nodding seriously, Maverick - who had lived on the western coast of NorthAm - added “Yeah, fuck THOSE things. Australia had it worse, but still.”

Raising her hand and waving it, Hannah started making eager noises to ask for her turn. “Absolutely idiotic job requirements, am I right?” Nods abounded, and she took the opportunity to vent the spleen I hadn’t even guessed her to possess. “The number of jobs I didn’t get because I didn’t have a degree were absurd. I don’t even know why they even required them, for some! I’m sure most of you had that happen.”

I kept my silence, but Conor was right behind her. “A Master’s in Engineering, to be a foreman. You’re babysitting a bunch of knuckleheads pounding rebar and pouring concrete! And they’ve had a decade of learning to do it right, I would’ve just been there to make sure it was compliant. And they wanted a Master’s for that!”

Hannah took a sip of her drink and nodded eagerly. “That’s what I’m talking about! There was a job I qualified for that was basically a glorified secretary… They wanted a four-year degree and paid peanuts. Absurd. But I was unemployed for way more of my life than I should have been, because I didn’t have that piece of paper.”

Idly, Zach stared at his drink. Like me, he had one of said-degrees, so this was something of a conversation we couldn’t really take part in. “I wonder how many Councillors we would have if those kind of requirements were put in place here.” Arching an eyebrow, he glanced up at me and inclined his head knowingly.

“Well,” I exhaled. “It depends. If they asked for a Master’s degree of any kind, I wouldn’t be a Councillor.” A thought struck me. “Hey - “

“No, Sophia, you cannot recommend that as a way to retire from the Council,” Antoine scolded with a laugh. “You would be grandfathered in with everyone else.”

The laughter broke the serious tone that had descended, and led to everyone speculating jovially, starting with Conor. “Well, we know Grey would still be a Councillor in that case - they admitted they had a PhD when Else was still getting sorted, rather than an MD.”

“Pretty sure Eino has a Master’s, at least,” Zach pointed.

Maverick shook his head, firmly disagreeing. “Doctorate in Education. I saw it on his wall. Don’t sell that one short.”

“So that’s two.” Hannah leaned forward eagerly. “Conor, what about Huynh?”

“Masters in Engineering,” he confirmed ruefully. “But he’s no PhD.”

“Pranav,” Zach interjected. “Post grad in robotics. Even worked on some of the Padrugoi mission stuff, early on.”

A respectful murmur filled the room, accompanied by appropriately impressed nods. Maverick had to actually shake the starstruck look out of his eyes before he could speak. “So that’s three PhDs, one Master’s, and a Bachelor’s on the Council. Not bad, honestly.”

Antoine cleared his throat politely. “Grey actually has two doctorates, if I am recalling correctly.”

I shook my head firmly. “Three. Biochemistry, genetics, and molecular chemistry.”

With a low whistle, Conor shook his head. “So, we have a clear leader as far as ‘most degrees on the Council’. Would Eino or Pranav be second, though?”

An argument erupted, and when it looked like Zach was about to say something, I shook my head. I knew the same thing he was about to point out, as a by-blow of fixing some of Derek’s more… enthusiastic shenanigans, but I wanted to see if anyone would figure it out or even question it. A solid half-hour later, Tyche arrived and scooped up a mini-sandwich before she even registered the conversation/argument taking place.

Whirling to face me, she pointed at the rest of the room and glared at me disdainfully. “Seriously? How long has this been going on?”

“Forty five minutes?” I admitted sheepishly. “Maybe an hour if you include the ‘what we don’t miss’ portion of the conversation. But ‘degrees on the Council’ has been at least forty five minutes.”

“And you said fuck all?”

I shrugged. “I know it’s not me who has the most or even second most. I have the least formal education of any Councillor.”

Tyche pinched the bridge of her nose and blew out a long breath. “Okay, everyone. What do you know so far?”

Without hesitation, Maverick rattled it off. “Grey has three doctorates, Eino has one and a Master’s, it turns out. Pranav has one doctorate and a Bachelor’s. Huynh has a Master’s, and Sophia has a Bachelor’s.”

“And the Councillor you have left out?” she interrogated wearily, while Zach and I tried to restrain our laughter.

“Xiomara?” he asked, face scrunched in confusion. “She was career military, but I don’t know if she has any degrees. Maybe a Bachelor’s?”

Tyche shook her head, glaring again when I started gasping for breath. “Wrong. And you know what? Soph knew this, so I’m going to make her tell all of you. Like she should have. From the beginning.”

“Hey!” I cried, still giggling. “I was giving them a whole other 5 minutes before I broke the news. I just wanted to see if they would even question their reasoning.” Antoine��s eyes got wide, sending me into another giggling fit. “None of you even mentioned the idea of Xiomara having any degree,” I gasped, almost in hysterics. “Mav was in the military, so I get that he just assumed she was busy as fuck, but… et tu, everyone?”

Hannah’s head turned slowly to stare down Zach. In self defense, he held up both hands with one pointing at me. “She told me not to say anything.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I did!”

Carefully, Conor slowly asked the question that was on everyone else’s minds. “Sophie? What’s so funny?”

Tears were pouring down my face at this point - not because I thought the situation was funny, because it wasn’t. Not really. I was hysterical because I was so caught off guard that we still brought something like this with us. “I don’t know the real reason why nobody considered Xiomara, and I’m scared to ask at this point. I’m hoping it’s because she looks tough as hell and like the kind of person who would beat up highly educated people rather than be one.” Wiping a tear from my face, I glanced at Tyche. Her jaw was tight, clearly thinking the same things I was. “But the fact that she is the only other woman on the Council, that hurts, honestly.”

I took a few deep breaths to compose myself. “The fact is, Xiomara has five degrees. Five. Along with her military career. Tyche and I have to know this, since we handle staffing.” Counting on my fingers, I started ticking them off. “Two doctorates, one in international law and one in experimental economics - as in, yes, the calorie economy was her idea. A Master’s in military history, along with two Bachelor’s degrees: one in experimental chemistry and one in nuclear physics.” Shaking my head, I glanced at the shocked and guilty expressions in the room. “It isn’t three PhDs, but damn, y’all. The woman has five degrees!”

“How did she do that, and a military career, so young?” Maverick asked, his tone nothing but awed.

Antoine looked confused at the question. “My friend, how old do you think Xiomara is?”

He shrugged. “Sophie’s age? So, thirtyish?”

Conor poked him. “Mav. You know how old Sophie is.”

Maverick rolled his eyes. “Fine. So maybe forty? The whole healing stuff messes with me, I’ll be honest.”

Smiling, I cut him some slack. “Xiomara is just over ten years older than me,” I clarified.

Hannah’s eyes widened, and Zach looked like he had been punched in the gut. “So hot-scary-lady is fifty?” After Tyche and I nodded, he shook his head. “That’s still super-impressive for fifty. For seventy, even!” Zach shook his head. “Grey, I could understand. They seem like the type to just live for education, you know? But, Xio? I’ve known for a year and I still get dizzy thinking about it.”

“It does explain why she’s so intimidating,” Conor pointed out. When I opened my mouth to scold him, he held up one hand. “No! No. Doctorates have to be argued and defended, right? Plus one of those is in law. And she balanced a military career on top of all that. If I accomplished all that, people would look at me with respect and expect me to be a direct, take-no-prisoners kind of person.” He glanced at Antoine, who winced and nodded in confirmation.

“She isn’t though,” I complained. “She’s a leader.”

“Definitely not ruthless, but she is intimidating to the general population,” Hannah pointed out gently. “That’s part of what Jokul was talking about, right? The Ark, as a whole, doesn’t get to see her get excited over her favorite foods, or pictures of baby pandas, or…. Cherries? Is it cherries she’s crazy for?”

“Pomegranate,” I corrected, begrudgingly.

“Pomegranate,” Hannah asserted. “They don’t get to see that. They get to see ‘hot-scary-lady who lays down the law’. Not ‘Xiomara who gets googly eyed when Parvati Fletcher wears that one violet shirt’.”

“Or hates plantains,” Tyche pointed out. “Which never made sense to me, because fried plantains are basically dessert with dinner.”

I started to giggle a bit. “It makes even less sense when you’ve seen her order coffee.” Tyche groaned, but more confused looks bounded about the room. Full out laughing, I explained. “She… she puts… maybe three ounces of coffee? Not espresso, just regular coffee… with what looks like a gallon - “ I snorted so hard it hurt my nose, but couldn’t stop. “Of milk! And sugar! Oh gods, she must put a cup of sugar in her coffee, I swear!”

Hannah and Zach exchanged glances, as did Conor and Maverick. Within seconds, the entire room erupted in laughter. “That?” Conor gasped. “That is hilarious….”

“I...I always thought… she took her coffee blacker than sin….” Zach wheezed. “And baby pandas?”

Sobering suddenly, I straightened and glared at the entire room. “OI!” I shouted. “Baby pandas are fucking cute, and if you don’t think so, you aren’t human, and I will ask Noah to do genetic testing to prove that.”

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#the miys #science fiction #humans are weird #found family #humans are space orcs #earth is space australia #aliens #apocalypse #found family tropes #hfy #humans are awesome #humans are space fae

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razanartuk · 4 years ago

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about me tag game thing

i was tagged by the wonderful @nothingunrealistic! thank you very much ily <3

under read more bc i was not capable of keeping my answers brief this time around

why did you choose your url?

this...was supposed to be a short explanation but it turned into quite a tale so strap in i guess because we are going on a ride. back in 2017 i was just getting into musical theatre rp and i was still feeling too shy to really talk to anyone ooc so i would just wait for people i wanted to interact with to post starter calls so i could just do things in character with them the easy way. So i did this with my friend cam, who posted a starter for me using a lyric from If I Could Tell Her. she linked the song so i could listen to it, so i did and i went ‘wait a minute, is that Ben Platt from Pitch Perfect?? (and other things too, but i only recognized his voice at the time bc of the acappella girl movies)’ and yes it certainly was.

i had zero idea what the plot of Dear Evan Hansen was about at that point, and for some reason based off Just That One Song and the poster art of who i assumed was Some Guy in a Polo Shirt i started to think it was about some jock guy who broke his arm and had an emo/goth friend who had either died or gone missing under mysterious circumstances. also i intuited that Evan had a crush on his friend’s sister but he couldn’t tell her that directly or his emo friend would kick his ass. so i was like mostly wrong, but a little bit right.

oh and i knew jared and alana were characters from the show bc cam said that they were i think?? but i had no idea what their role was. so after listening to if i could tell her, i listened to good for you and all i really got out of that was that evan the apparently not-jock guy had done...something... that really hurt jared and alana. and at that point i finally decided to go look up a plot synopsis and i found out i was waaay off base. but honestly this is why cast recordings should include scene dialogue in the songs bc otherwise you just get soundtracks like dear evan hansen where the songs have like. zero context. we really just go from waving through a window to for forever to sincerely me without like. any reason as to what is happening huh. It’s honestly not a surprise anymore that all those people on twitter had no idea the plot isn’t about gay teenagers.

anyways. cam was writing jared and she made a post at one point about wishing somebody would write alana and i was like ‘oh i could do that!’ (after i had actually Seen a bootleg and finally knew what the whole story was, of course) so i made a multimuse rp blog featuring alana beck, nabulungi hatimbi, chloe valentine and some other characters, and cam started sharing her headcanons with me that alana is trans, jared and alana were close friends when they were little kids but they sort of drifted apart as they got older and their priorities in life changed, jared was the first person alana came out to when she realized she’s trans, etc.

one night i started talking about wanting to pick a more theatre-relevant url for my blog and trans-[character name] urls were getting pretty popular, and at least 3 of the friends i made through rp had changed theirs to coordinating trans-[character name] and i think it was cam suggested i should make mine be trans-alana so i did. eventually i realized the unhyphenated version was available so i changed it to transalana with no hyphen and i have lived here ever since. sometimes i think about changing it but i feel like transalana has become a part of My Brand and i am not so great with coming up with cool names for things.

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

in theory, i have sideblogs... i don’t really use them, but of the ones i do have, there is:

emsbookblog - this was supposed to be where i would post excerpts of the book that i’m working on, but i think i did that maybe one time roughly 2 years ago and then promptly forgot about it/got nervous about my writing and was scared to share anything else. the rest of the stuff that is there is assorted writing tips. i don’t really know what to do with it now. i probably should post all my little thoughts about em and anita and caleb there instead of infodumping on my main from time to time, but if i do that then i have to promo a sideblog and direct people over to it which is always annoying to me when i could just do it on this blog which is much easier

dearnovelhansen - this is basically no longer used, but was a sideblog i made specifically to talk/complain about the novel adaptation of Dear Evan Hansen which was about 3 years ago?? maybe? i can’t be trusted to understand the passage of time. but to summarize: i thought it was an honor just to have the story be made more accessible since many of us couldn’t see the stage performance, but i hated a lot of the creative liberties that were taken. my main grumbles are that everyone who isn’t evan or connor is done so dirty in the novel. connor’s still kind of done dirty in the book, but not as much as like. heidi, alana, jared, and zoe are.

horseisle3 - this one was meant to be a place where i could just enthusiastically post screenshots from hi3, but instead it turned into a blog where i occasionally reblog other players’ hi3 content and bitch about how bad the game admins are bc hi3 is the tumblr famous (infamous?) homophobic horse game. the game where it was once okay to call your club store the gulag bc according to their head of hr, ‘it’s just a russian word for prison’ but you can’t say ‘im gay’ without somebody accusing you of corrupting young children who play the game. unfortunately there aren’t very many good interactive horse games out there, so this one is still about as good as it gets. it’s either that or star stable and i don’t care about star stable.

mlaenie - i’ve had this url saved for i don’t even know how long. way way way back in the day when i wanted to escape from the clutches of the onceler fandom i abandoned my first blog where i basically had an alter ego i guess?? and i decided to just be myself on the new blog. i don’t fully remember who came up with it, but one of my sister’s mutuals suggested that if you scrambled the letters in your name you could come up with aesthetic-looking urls. so lauren’s url became lrauen, and to match with her mine became mlaenie, which i abandoned on tumblr after about a year or so? but have continued to use as my main username on twitter, reddit, youtube, xbox, steam, and discord. i barely ever use any of these accounts aside from twitter, steam, and xbox, but yeah. so i’ve decided to try and turn this empty sideblog into a place for video game thoughts maybe. we’ll see how long it lasts this time around.

how long have you been on tumblr?

i made my first tumblr account in december of 2010, but i didn’t understand how to use it at all or how to customize my theme to look cool and unique so i quickly abandoned it. i made a new account in september of 2011 after some kids at school and my sister told me i should and i have been trapped here with varying degrees of activity/inactivity ever since. i have witnessed the rise and fall of the lorax/onceler fandom, hyperfocused on lord of the rings, star wars and back to the future all at the same time, and for the past 4 years i’ve mostly been a musical theatre blog with assorted other fandom stuff mixed in. i feel i have seen everything and nothing, but mostly i’m just tired and bored.

do you have a queue tag?

no bc i don’t use a queue. i’ve tried using it in the past but i irrationally feel pressured to sustain a coherent theme to queued posts and my brain simply does not vibe with that so i just don’t use it at all anymore. Instead i instantly reblog or post several unrelated thoughts in succession and then don’t post again at all for 3 days. the way god intended

why did you start your blog in the first place?

my very first blog was intended to be a place for me to post all of my petz 5 animals’ profile info, but i didn’t have any understanding of how coding worked at all and i don’t think i really wanted to learn, either. so it just sat there, unused. my second attempt at blogging was as a classic rock fandom person, so as you can probably imagine i was pretty pretentious about ‘modern pop’ vs the beatles, the rolling stones, the who, the monkees, and so on. and then i slowly devolved into a lorax fandom blog and everything went to shit so i made a new blog for lord of the rings/the hobbit which later evolved to include star wars and back to the future blogging. and then for the past 4 years i’ve been mainly a musical theatre blog with other random stuff i like thrown haphazardly into the pot. wonderful.

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

because my url is transalana and two of my most prominent lgbt headcanons are that alana beck is trans and a lesbian. i gotta be shouting out @kinqmike though bc she’s the one i adopted the trans alana beck headcanon from in the first place!

why did you choose your header?

in 2017 i was hyperfixating on Dear Evan Hansen (and Be More Chill, but there weren’t many gif-able videos then considering it ran for a month in New Jersey in 2015 and there was only one yet-to-resurface 35 minute bootleg) so i just grabbed a random gif off of google. i really should get to replacing it with a new header of my own though. i just don’t know what i should do for it.

what’s your post with the most notes?

i have lost track of how many notes it has (i think it’s somewhere around 200 now?) but when Will Roland and George Salazar performed Two Player Game on Good Morning America, i posted a screencap of their Jeremy and Michael along with that one quiz answer meme that says stuff like ‘i want to see it grow up healthy’. i didn’t tag it with any ship names or anything because i was anxious about having it show up in the tags, but somebody who reblogged it from me did tag it as boyf riends and i firmly believe it took off because of that. i don’t think i make posts that are relevant enough to amass thousands of notes, even by accident. which is probably a good thing bc if i did i would have to block so many of them.

how many followers do you have?

on this blog? 175 according to the counter. how many of those are still real people and how many are bots and abandoned accounts? i have no idea.

how many people do you follow?

i try to keep it somewhere around 200. i think i’m sitting at 180 right now but i kind of need to go through and clear out the really inactive blogs.

have you made a shitpost?

let’s think about this for a second. i’ve been on tumblr for nearly 10 years. you might even be able to say i’ve made more than one. they’re just not what you would call...popular shitposts.

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

that stuff makes me so incredibly anxious that i have to fight the urge to want to yeet my laptop or mobile device through the closest window whenever i read it, so i try very hard to avoid any sort of ‘if you don’t reblog this, i’m judging you’ posts. i find them very manipulative and not particularly helpful

do you like tag games?

yeah babey!! i just frequently forget to do them, but please know that if you have ever tagged me in a tag game i felt incredibly touched by the gesture and the @mention even if i completely forgot to do the thing afterward

do you like ask games?

i do! but also rip to literally anyone who has ever sent me an ask meme bc it takes me so long to answer them. i’m still working on a micro fic prompt from a few weeks ago. also, horrified to realized that it has in fact been a few weeks and not 3 days anymore.

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i don’t know that any are tumblr famous as a whole. but probably @neverheardnothing

do you have a crush on a mutual?

in any sort of romantic connotation? no. not that i’m aware of. there are mutuals that i have friend crushes on where i want to be friends with them but i get so anxious when it comes to meeting new people that usually nothing ever comes of it. i’m really not good at small talk or other casual conversation either which, as you may or may not be able to imagine, sucks. i just wanna skip over all of the awkward introductions and ‘hey how are you, how is life, what are you doing with yourself?’ stuff. not because i don’t care about it. i do, but i think most of my friends/the people i want to be my friends are also depressed and anxious so asking these basic questions about life tends to uh. make us all nervous. and i don’t do much with my life so i always have the most boring answers anyways.

i’m not tagging anyone officially bc the @ thing has just completely given up on me at this point, but if you want to do it, go for it. and then say i tagged you so i can read it c:

#mel.rtf #abt me #tag games

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patience-hope-strength-courage · 4 years ago

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Social Anxiety - 02/06/2021

I’ve never been officially diagnosed with Social Anxiety Disorder but I have had counselling and medication in the past for Anxiety in general and OCD. The more I learn about myself I believe this is part of my Anxiety. I’m still learning more and ways to work on this too. I thought I’d write down my thoughts and feelings.

I believe my Anxiety struggles are made up of:

🔵 Generalised Anxiety Disorder

🟡 Obsessive Compulsive Disorder

🟢 Social Anxiety Disorder

Things I struggle with:

I look at the menu online before going to a restaurant so I already know what to order so I don’t feel uncomfortable or rushed to choose when I’m there.

If I’m driving I’ll check my route and how long it’ll take me to make sure I’m there on time / a bit early.

I check the food hygiene ratings of restaurants.

I feel more comfortable with 1:1 meetings or small groups.

I’m not always very good with eye contact.

When arranging to meet with people I prefer to do this over messages rather than in person as it gives me more time to think about how to arrange / times / places etc and I feel less pressure and not rushed in the same way.

I’ll always double check the date / time / place because I worry about getting it wrong.

I’ll plan in my head things to talk about beforehand.

After socialising I usually go over in my head anything I might have said wrong or that I shouldn’t have.

I hate speaking in front of people or large groups. Presentations and public speaking terrify me.

I really dislike speaking on the phone (other than to close friends or family). If I can I’ll email rather than ring places. I feel really anxious if people call me off guard and I won’t always answer because I need time to prepare and then I’ll ring back. It’s embarrassing to admit this.

Sometimes shopping makes me feel anxious. Not always there’s been times I’ve really enjoying shopping but if my anxiety is bad it’s not something I enjoy with it being busy and just the general social aspects of it, it’s difficult to explain.

I struggle with group conversations at times whereas I’m much more comfortable and confident with 1:1 discussions.

If I’m particularly anxious with a specific person/s or situation I can’t really eat in front of them.

I don’t particularly enjoy parties. I can go to them and have fun but I’ll be very anxious beforehand and need time to recharge after too. I’m embarrassed to admit that I have sometimes in the past drunk too much at the beginning of a social event to calm my anxiety. I’m not a big drinker and rarely drink but these situations are usually when I feel like I want a drink, which I’m not sure is a good thing.

I worry about embarrassing myself a lot.

I hate it if I’m doing something and feel like people are watching me as I feel judged and rushed too.

I have low self esteem which I believe contributes to my anxiety in social situations.

Things That Make Sense From When I Was Younger:

My heart would beat so fast when it was my turn to read out loud in class at school, I hated this and avoided it if I could.

I used to avoid eye contact with teaches and not put my hand up in the hope I wouldn’t be asked for an answer. I was able to answer things at times when I was feeling more confident.

I avoided socialising with my peers a lot at school and spent time on my own doing my work, listening to music, walking (more pacing) around school or talking to teachers. These things made me feel less anxious.

I often avoided eye contact if I felt awkward / uncomfortable or vulnerable.

Always feeling scared of being judged and not being liked by my peers.

In Sixth Form I had to do a presentation in front of people and I was terrified. Beforehand I completely panicked and had to be outside and a very kind teacher helped calm me down and reassure me that I could do it. I managed it but definitely rushed through it and spoke quickly because of how anxious I felt.

I often turned down bigger social events. Not all the time but if there was anything I felt uncomfortable about I’d say no.

I often would say “maybe” to things even though I knew I didn’t want to go as I was scared to say no and be asked why I couldn’t go.

I really struggled with conflict and confrontation in friendships at school even if it wasn’t to do with me it would just make me anxious when others had a falling out. I would get accused of sitting on the fence about things but I just couldn’t deal with this very well.

Starting Sixth Form heightened my anxiety for a time because it was different. Not wearing school uniform anymore and just the feeling of being more grown up in a way I struggled with. I liked to blend in and look the same and I guess I worried about how I looked whereas when I wore school uniform it didn’t matter as everyone was wearing the same.

During my GCSEs when my Mental Health was in a bad way I didn’t want to go to lunch. This wasn’t because I had a particular issue around food, which I know a lot of people do. It was more that my anxiety would make me not as hungry but also the lunch hall had a lot of people in, queuing up felt incredibly claustrophobic for me and it was too loud. My teacher (who helped me a lot at this time) used to help me go to lunch by taking me into the lunch room and putting me at the front of the queue, I was grateful for this but also it made me feel like I stood out too. I would still often get my lunch, sit down and eat a couple of mouthfuls and need to leave because of how anxious I felt. It was like I needed to escape in a way. It brings me a sadness to remember these times because I have a much greater understanding of how I felt than I did all those years ago.

I played the flute when I was younger, which I really enjoyed but I absolutely hated doing exams for it because of the pressure and being judged on the spot.

I struggle with the pressure of exams in general and performed much better with coursework. I’m not sure if this is social anxiety or general anxiety.

If I had a question at school I’d usually wait until the end of the lesson and then go and speak to the teacher so my peers didn’t hear and I didn’t sound silly.

I remember times when I was feeling anxious or maybe a bit lonely socially I’d make up stories or imaginary friends and scenarios in my head. I guess to get lost in my mind in a way or take me away from how I was feeling.

I relate a lot of my Social Anxiety back to when I was at secondary school because I feel like many situations from that time now make sense to me looking back and I wonder if it was around that time I began developing these difficulties. I didn’t recognise it at the time though. I knew by the time I 14/15 I was quite unhappy and down in myself but I don’t think I realised the Anxiety side of this until I later in my teens. I don’t believe school was actually a cause of my Anxiety or Mental Health struggles, in fact it was probably the one thing that helped me the most. I’m forever grateful for my school years because I always loved learning and it was a safe place for me despite how I felt inside.

There’s been times my Anxiety has been less and times when it’s felt more intense and harder to manage. I guess that’s part of life. I’m actually in some ways grateful for the fact it’s got harder over the past year because it’s allowed me time to address and understand myself better in order to move forward. I’m learning what parts of me are Anxiety and that I can work on and others that simply just who I am and my personality.

Hopefully my random thoughts and writings on this might make some sort of sense somewhere along the way.

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shoutosteakettle · 5 years ago

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Happy Birthday!

Word Count: 3.3k

Key: ☆

Ask: How does Todoroki celebrate S/O’s birthday which also happens to be a holiday?

An: This is one of my first scenario fic so don’t judge too harshly, anyways, Happy Birthday Nonnie, I hope you enjoy!

It’s your birthday (!), but unfortunately, it’s also a local holiday meaning everything is closed for the day so no going out to celebrate.

You wake up to the smell of bacon in the air, and your boyfriend missing from bed. Before you have time to get up and investigate you see Todoroki walk in with a breakfast tray filled with your favorite breakfast foods. You can’t help but smile at the sight of your messy boyfriend. He is dressed in his normal grey sweats and black tee, his hair is more ruffled than usual and he has a smidge of pancake batter on his left cheek.

“G’ morning, birthday girl.” You prop yourself up so that you’re sitting in your bed, "Thank you Todo, but you know you didn’t have to do all of this for me.” He smiles.

“This is just the beginning.” He chuckles as he turns around to walk out of the room. "Todo? What does that mean”, he doesn’t answer, "Todo! Tell me what that means” you take a pillow from his side of the bed and throw it at his back. He stops at the impact and turns his head towards you and winks before slipping behind the door frame and out of sight.

You spend your breakfast thinking about Todoroki’s words ‘This is just the beginning’ what did he mean by that. You ponder and don't even notice that your cup is empty when you pick up your it to take another sip of orange juice. You set the breakfast tray aside and hop out of bed. You walk over to the brown dresser in the corner of the bedroom and open the drawer second from the bottom on the left to grab one of your boyfriend's shirts. You drape it over your head sticking in one arm, then the other. You open the drawer to the right and grab a pair of shorts and put them on foot at a time before pulling them up to your waist.

You walk to the bed stepping over the pile of clothes left on the floor left by Shouto stopping halfway through your movements to momentarily question the sight because your boyfriend isn’t known to be such a slob. You shake any thought of suspicion from your mind before continuing your stride towards the bed. When you bend over to pick up the breakfast tray you notice a card halfway tucked under your plate. You pulled the card all the way out and sat down on the bed to read it.

‘Happy Birthday Y/n,

Before I met you I was ready to give up. It was your light that dragged me out of the dark corner I forced myself into. I’m thankful everyday that bumped into you at that coffee shop. Today I hope to make you feel every ounce of emotion that I’ve felt for the last nine months.

Love,

Your Precious, Todo’

You wiped away the tears that had trickled from the corners of your eyes and placed the card on top of your nightstand. Turning to the side you pick up your breakfast tray and carry it out to the kitchen. To your surprise, you see Todoroki washing dishes. "What are you doing? It’s my turn to wash the dishes.” You walk closer to him and set the tray down on the kitchen counter.

He turns off the tap and looks you in your eyes, "Y/n, I thought I told you I didn’t want you working on your birthday.” He takes a minute to read the emotions on your face. Todoroki takes a step closer to you and raises his hands to your face, he uses the pads of his thumbs to caress your cheek,, "What’s wrong love, it looks like you’ve been crying.” You wrap your arms around his waist and pull him impossibly close to you.

“I love you. I love you so much” you say as you cry into his shoulder. Todoroki rubs his hands up and down your back trying his best to comfort you, "H-hey, it’s okay. I love you too, everything is going to be fine.” He removes your head from his shoulder and looks down into your puffy, red eyes. He leans down and before you know it his lips come crashing down onto yours. This kiss was just like always, passionate, kind, considerate, intimate, loving, lustful; it reminded you of all the reasons you fell in love with him.

He detaches his lips from yours, "Y/n,” he looks once more into your eyes, "Are you going to tell me what happened?” Todoroki asked, his voice laced with concern, "Nothing, everything is perfect, I just love you so much I don’t know what to do.” you exhale, "I-I don't know how I could survive without you. You are my life, you’re everything to me.” Todoroki stares at you for a minute processing the word vomit that had just spewed from your mouth. You begin to panic thinking you said too much and scared him off and then all of a sudden you hear laughter.

You look up from your hands to see Todo laughing as if he had just heard the funniest joke on earth. "Is that it! You had me worried, I thought something important had happened!” You looked at him, dumbfounded, your feelings a little hurt. "No, no. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just-” he took a deep breath, "It’s thrilling to hear that you feel the exact same way I do. I wasn’t going to say anything any time soon because it’s still pretty early in our relationship and I didn't want to scare you off!” he wipes away his tears of laughter, before doing the same to yours.

You couldn't help but smile at his adorable confession. "Early! How in the hell can you call nine months ‘early in the relationship?’” You said the last part in a husky voice in an attempt to mock your boyfriend. "Well, I didn’t know where your head was at, I can’t read your mind.” he sighed, " We should talk about our feelings more often to prevent more emotional breakdowns like this.” He laughs a little, waiting for your response. You sniffled at his words of advice, nodding your head in agreement.

Todoroki extended his hand towards you, "Come on, I have a surprise for you.” You take his hand in yours and follow as he leads you out of the kitchen and into the living room. You looked around in awe of your surroundings; fairy lights streaming from the ceiling and your favorite fuzzy blankets in collage form on the floor enclosed with just about every pillow in the apartment. Inside the nest shaped contraption of blankets and pillows is a platter of all of your favorite sweets and two bowls of popcorn.

You turned around and stepped over the pillows and into the ‘nest’, only to turn back around and look at your boyfriend, before you could speak you saw your favorite movie queued up on the television behind him. "What is this?” You ask in a laugh-y breath. "Well, I wanted to take you out to see a movie, but since everything is closed I thought that this could be the next best thing.” He grabs the remote off the coffee table before making his way over to you. The two of you sat down and Todoroki played the first of many movies.

A couple of hours later and you and Todo had reached the end of your movie marathon. You helped him clean up the bowls and such. After you watched him wash the dishes you saw Todoroki pull eggs out of the fridge. "Are you going to cook again?” He finished gathering ingredients from the pantry before turning to you, "Yesterday I went to the bakery to pick up a cake for your birthday, but then I thought to myself ‘What could be more fun than baking with my girlfriend?’ So I took a detour and headed to the grocery store to pick up some ingredients for a cake instead.” You looked at Shouto taking a minute to respond.“That actually sounds like a lot of fun! S0 how do we do this?”

He takes a minute before answering your question, "That's the thing, I’ve never made a cake before,” Todo reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, he tapped around on his screen before pulling up a recipe for a ‘simple white cake’,, "I thought this could be a nice learning experience for the two of us.” Todoroki hands you his phone and waits for your response as you read over the recipe.“Okay, it says here that the first thing we have to do is preheat the oven to 350°F” Todoroki walks over to the oven and turns the knob and asks you, "What’s next?”

You and Todoroki spend the next hour or so preparing the cake batter. "Okay, I’ll put the cake in the oven.” You slip on the oven mints before picking the cake tin up off the counter and placing it on the oven rack. You take the oven mitts off and wipe your hands on your apron. You saw Todoroki disappear into your shared bedroom when he returned he has your nail box in hand. "Oh Todo, are you going to do my nails?” You can’t stop the smile from forming on your face. "I wanted to do something special for you.”

“‘Something special’ is all you’ve been doing all day and I really appreciate it Todo, but why don’t you take a break? I don’t want to overwork you.” He smiles at you before taking your hand and leading you to a stool by the kitchen counter, "Y/n it’s your special day so I want you to feel special, so don’t worry about me because today is about you.” He takes the seat next to adjusting his stool to face you before setting down the nail kit on to the counter. "You spoil me too much Todoroki.”

He sighs, shaking his head, "Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” You chuckle at his words before drifting away into thought, focused on the beauty of his monochromatic eyes. He takes a blood-red nail polish out of the box before gently grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand towards him. Todoroki spends the next hour working on doing your nails making small talk and avoiding all topics about your birthday including the rest of his plans for today. When he’s done you pick up your hand and bring it up close to your face and you're a little surprised at how good your nails came out. "Thank you so much Todo, they look really go-” before you could finish your compliment you were cut off by the sound of beeping coming from the oven.

“Oh, that’s the cake!” You get up from your seat so you could get the cake out of the oven but before you could Todoroki pulled you into him. "I’ll get the cake out of the oven, you go get ready. I left you a present on the bed.”

You gave Todo a lil smooch on the cheek and turned around and walked into your shared bedroom. Once you get to your bedroom your attention is immediately pointed towards a beautiful black dress on the foot of your bed, and next to it you see a note. You walk over to the bed and pick up the note to read it, ‘The only dress worthy of your beauty is one that matches it, Todo.’ You held the note close to your heart before placing it back on your bed. This time you pick up the dress instead, you hold it up to the light to get a better view of the design; the dress is made of a lacy material but underneath the lace is a second layer of cloth so it’s not too revealing. The dip in the neckline is sharp v that shows just enough to leave things to the imagination. The hem of the dress looks just long enough to stop right above your knee in the front, touching your mid-calf in the back.

You walked to your closet grabbing your nice undies before heading over to the bathroom dress in hand closing the door behind once you entered. You had already taken a shower this morning so you decide to skip that part of the process this time. You change into the dress Todotoki had bought you and looked in the mirror, you couldn’t believe how perfectly the dress fit you, and on top of that, it was super comfy. You opened the drawer under the sink and grabbed your flat iron to straighten your hair. You apply some light makeup, nothing too showy, and left the bathroom. You grabbed your favorite pair of black heels and slipped them onto your feet one at a time before getting up to leave the bedroom.

When you open the bedroom door you’re met with darkness, the only light coming from the candles on the floor that outlines a rose-petaled path. You walk the path all the way to the door of your apartment, you open the door and follow the path to the building’s elevator. You walk into the elevator and see a sticky note with an arrow that points to the last floor, you press the button and the elevator begins to move. You wonder what Todoroki has planned this time around. You reach the last floor in the apartment building and the elevator dings before the doors open only for the rose-petaled path to continue. You follow the path around the corner and up the stairs, you open the doors to the roof and follow the path to a table. The table is draped with a beautiful blood-red tablecloth that matches the color of your nails almost perfectly, on top of the table there are two placemats, in the middle of the placemats is a single rose.

You hear the doors open behind you and whip your head around. You see Todoroki with the biggest grin on his face. He’s wearing your favorite tux of his and a red tie that match the tablecloth and your nails. He has a gift bag hanging around his wrist and a plate in each hand. You return his smile and walk over to him. You help him out by grabbing a plate and walk to the table with him. He puts his plate down before walking over to you and pulling out your seat for you. You sit down and thank him and he nods his head. He walks to his side of the table and does the same to his chair as he did to yours. You look down at your food and then up at Souto and out of curiosity you ask him a question, "Who taught you how to be such a perfect boyfriend?”

Todoroki breaks out into small blush before answering your question, "I’m nowhere near perfect, but I do try my best.” he responds, waving his hands gesturing towards the dinner that he prepared for the two of you underneath the stars. "Jokes aside for a second, I hope that you enjoyed yourself today,” he takes a breath, "I know that we couldn’t do much, what with everything being closed, but I tried my best to make things work.”

You shake your head at Shouto’s words, "You didn’t just make things work, I love everything that you did for me today, the weird nest-pillow-blanket-fort contraption that you created, you remembered my favorite movies and suffered through watching them for me. You baked a cake with me an-” you take a quick breath, "There isn’t anything you could’ve done to make today any better because today was perfect. I love you Todo.”

Todoroki returns your words before digging into dinner. You and Todo make small talk over dinner until you both run out of food to eat. After that happens Todoroki picks up the small gift bag that he had placed on the floor at the beginning of the dinner and slides it over to your side of the table. You exchange a quick glance with him before you begin to pull tissue paper out of the bag. At the bottom of the bag, there are two little black boxes, you take each box out and place them on the table. You put the tissue paper back inside of the gift bag and place the gift bag back on the floor. You look back up at your boyfriend who is barely containing his excitement as he anxiously waits for you to open your gifts.

You reach forward and pick up the smaller of the two boxes, you open it up and are immediately hit by a million different emotions. Inside there is a charm for the charm bracelet he had gotten you on your third date, "Aww Shouto” you began to stand up to give him a thank-you hug but before you could Todoroki pointed at the other box on the table. Regaining your balance you sit back down and reach for the second box when you open this one you stare at the pink diamond-studded earring inside before closing the box and sliding it over to Shouto. "T-these are too expensive, you have to take them back.” Todorki grabs the box before pushing his chair back standing up and walking over you. He pops a squat in front of you taking your hand in his.

“When it comes to you there is no such thing as ‘too expensive’” He lets go of your hand to open the earring box. Slowly and cautiously he places an earing in each of your earlobes. Once again he takes your hands into his own, he stands up and buries his head into the crook of your neck whispering to you about how he loves you. After 15 mins of him saying you silently to the beat of the music playing in the background, he leads you downstairs and back to your apartment. When you get downstairs he draws you a bath making sure to use your favorite scents and plenty of bubbles. In the bath, you try your best to relax but you can’t help but wonder what all the racket coming from outside the bedroom was. You decide to cut your bath short, you put on the PJ’s Shouto left for you and exit the bedroom.

When you walk into the kitchen you’re met with familiar faces snaking on the freshly frosted cake, Uraraka and Izuku. You rush at them pulling them into a tight bear hug. "What are you guys doing here?” You let go of them and notice that they are wearing pajamas identical to yours. "Todoroki called and said that it was your birthday so he wanted to do a sleepover type thing to celebrate!” Uraraka gushed.

Todoroki turned the corner interpreting your reunion. "I see you’ve finally left the bathtub,” You break out into full tomato face blush as everyone laughs at Shouto’s sly remark. "Guys I’m done setting up the show.” Todo waves everyone over to the living room where the blankets and pillows from this morning still lie, you peer over to the television to see the latest season of the ‘Bachelorette’ is ready to play. Izuku whispers to you informing you that it was he who picked the subject of entertainment for tonight. Everyone gets comfortable and Todo turns off the lights before walking over to you and getting situated under the covers with you. He plays the show, you rest your head on his chest and he throws his arm over your waist. You thank him for helping you celebrate your most perfect birthday ever. He whispers his last ‘I love you’ of the night before falling asleep with you in his arms.

#shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #spiceless

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sunflowerhazzavol6 · 5 years ago

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Love on Tour

Y/N is on tour with Harry and is starting to feel the exhaustion that comes with being on the road for a long time. Mainly fluff, not edited yet.

The touring life was not for Y/N.

It was definitely bearable, and the travel was amazing, but Y/N had never been to so many places in so little time in her life. For the most part she had been stationary, moving once to New York for university and then again to Los Angelos after graduation. This whole “new day, new city” agenda was absolutely exhausting, and she wasn’t entirely sure how Harry could have done this so many times before.

When he had invited her to come with him on tour, she thought he was nuts. The two of them had been dating secretly for about six months, and her traveling with him like that definitely put her more on the public radar. It wasn’t that she was scared of his fans and how they would react, she herself had been a fan before and knew she would just have to take things as they came. She was more scared for them. She liked this little bubble she and Harry had created, and all the important people in their lives knew about them. That was enough for her, for the time being at least. But Harry was quick to assure her that if any questions arose he would just say that she was a part of his entourage.

And a part of the entourage she was. There was rarely any space in the schedule for anything not tour-related, so while her relationship with Harry was still intact, her role with him was more that of an intern than anything else. She would fetch things as he needed them, like a coffee or a different guitar pick. He apologized repeatedly about it, promising to set aside time to be with her. As much as she knew he meant it, she also knew that he secretly liked all the doting, and she liked being needed.

By now the North American leg of the tour was in full swing, and the sweltering heat of the Atlanta summer was getting to her and the rest of the team. Harry was on stage now, singing Canyon Moon. He was sweaty but grinning ear to ear, seemingly oblivious to the humid conditions. She admired that, his constant ability to be a performer and give his fans the best show possible. He was never really performing either. It was always purely him, dancing around and interacting with the audience. Y/N felt herself sigh, smiling at her boyfriend.

After the show, Harry jogged up to her with his guitar still around his neck, grinning. “Hey, love, what did you think?”

She smiles, shaking her head. “I don’t know why you’re seeking my approval. You know I loved the show.” She adjusts his collar, looking up at him. “So whats your plan now?”

“Well I do want to go out and surprise the fans that haven't left yet.” He eases his guitar from his shoulders when an attendant comes to help him. “Then I’ll probably get onto the bus to relax. Does that work for you?”

“Mhmm.” Y/N hums, leaning up to peck his lips. She rests her hand on his bum, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll see you on the bus then.”

Harry chuckles as she walks away.

The tour bus is empty when she gets on, aside from an aide or two. She glances around before deciding to shower, grabbing a towel from the linen closet and going into the bathroom. Hanging the towel up on the door, she stepped into the shower, sighing when the hot water started running down her body. Showers on tour were a different type of renewal. She felt the sweat and dirt rinse off from her body with the soaps as she scrubbed the grime from her hair, her skin going from a industrial arena smell to that of lavender and shea butter. Another happy sigh.

After drying off from her shower and getting changed into sweats and one of Harry’s t-shirts, she grabs her laptop and crawls into Harry’s bunk. There were a handful of them lining the walls for Harry and the band, and there was technically one for her as well, but she preferred hogging up her boyfriends space to her own. She groans at the feeling of the memory-foam mattress, putting on her glasses and queuing up a TV show to watch while she waits for him, sipping on her tea that she had made earlier.

After about an hour Y/N is half asleep, the curtain separating her from the rest of the bus being tugged open. “Hey, love.” Harry says softly, starting to crawl into the bed. He’s stopped by a hand on his chest.

“Nope. I just changed these sheets today and you have arena all over you, Styles.”

Harry pouts.

“I’m dead serious, dude. I even did laundry this morning, so you’ve got clean clothes and everything.”

He groans. “So not only are you telling me that my very sexy rocker sweat is not allowed in this bed, you’re also guilting me into showering by doing my laundry for me?” Y/N bites her lip with a smile and nods. “Well what a load of bullocks. Am I allowed a kiss?”

“Not even a little one. Go clean up.” Harry groans again but obliges, stomping away like a small child. Y/N laughs to herself and unpauses her show, settling back in under the sheets.

Within half an hour Harry is crawling into bed next to her, his hair already starting to get fluffy as it dries. “Nice shirt.” He remarks as she sets the laptop aside, smiling.

“Isn’t it? I thought I would exercise my power as laundry-doer and do a little shopping for myself.”

“Mm. Quite right, silly me for assuming that would remain my shirt.”

“How were the fans?” She settles herself into his side, looking up at him.

“Good. Surprised. Very excited. Took loads of pictures with them and then sent them on their merry way.” He wraps his arm around her. “Hey, you fancy scratching my back?” He looks down at her expectantly.

“Oh, alright.” She sits up. Harry tugs his shirt over his head and moves to lay on his stomach with his head in his arms, yawning. Y/N reaches down to rub his back, looking down at him. “You shouldn’t have looked at me during Golden, someone’s going to make the connection.”

“M’sorry. Up a little more, please.”

She moves her hand up. “And you especially should not be looking at me during Medicine, Harry.”

He chuckles. “Now that I won’t be apologizing for.”

Y/N laughs a bit. “So North Carolina next?”

“I don’t wanna talk about the tour, Y/N. All we do is talk about the tour.” Y/N laughs a bit. He had a tendency to get curt when he was really tired.

“Then what is it you want to talk about?” She murmurs, moving her hand down to his lower back.

“I dunno.” He eases his head into her lap, yawning. “What do you want to do when we take a break in September?”

She moves her hand into his hair, running her fingers through it. “See our families probably. I’ll need to go back to LA at some point to see friends. We definitely need to relax and recharge.”

Harry nods, but Y/N isn't sure if its because of what she said or because of her hand massaging his head. “I might take a week to go see my family if you want to come with.”

“I’d like that.” She returns her hand to his back. He nuzzles his nose into her hip, his own hand moving to her thigh.

“I love you so much, Y/N.” He whispers after a pause. “I know how exhausting being on the road is, but I’m really glad you’re here.”

Y/N smiles, looking down at him. “Really?”

“Y/N...” He sits up only to pull her to him, laying her down on her back and kissing her. This. This was why she was here. This nodding and pushing and pulling that he did when he was really kissing her. Any time she spent feeling like just another part of his entourage was made up for with this. She felt like she was flying.

He pulls away after a bit to kiss her nose, maneuvering himself around her so they’re spooning, his chest pressed to her back and his face buried in her neck. “This makes up for the exhausted part, right?”

It was like he could read her mind. “This.” She repeats.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #fine line #love on tour #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader

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yntcdtyler · 6 years ago

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so here’s my lover secret session’s story... 02/08/2019 london 🏹🇬🇧

i got my dm on twitter on july 16th at 5:15pm and i looked at it thinking someone was trying to boo boo the fool me and it was really gonna say something like “stream ME!” so i opened it not thinking much of it and my heart literally SANK when i saw it was actually REAL. i got the phone call 4 days after from a girl called sara who was from Taylor Nation, she told me everything and i was literally in the storage room in work crying.

so it’s finally august 2nd.. i got up at 5am cause i literally had 4 different trains and 2 ubers to catch, when i finally got to my hotel it was around 11am, i checked in and got ready and went to the meeting point. i was literally the first one there so i panicked thinking i was at the wrong place but more people started to show up and immediately everyone formed little friendship groups who they seemed to have stayed with the whole day which was insane. i met lisa and emma which i’d recognised from twitter because we’d been following each other for so long and then georgia, evie & shiv all came over and we all just bonded and instantly became friends and realised we we’re the brits of the group, there were SO many international fans and it was amazing seeing people come from all over the world! our group was first on the bus and i’m not sure why but we were literally all crying like wtf was going on?? we drove past a few ambulances thinking ‘that’s gonna be our ride home after tonight’ cause at this point i’m like dying and then we finally got to THE HOUSE.

we all go inside, the ME! playlist was on, there was a huge moose head on the wall which we all became really intrigued by, a huge mirror to see ourselves ugly crying, there was food & drinks and little m&m’s with ‘lover’ and hearts on them and i have no idea what was going on in my mind at this point, like i didn’t know what to expect.

so then we all go to the living room we’re there was a bunch of cushions on the floor and a chair and speakers in front of us and i KNEW what was about to go down lads, it’s about to happen, we’re about to hear lover and i just wasn’t ready and i was sat THERE in front of the chair and a few minutes later... SHE COMES OUT FROM BEHIND THIS DOOR LOOKING LIKE LIKE AN ACTUAL GODDESS THAT JUST STEPPED OUT OF HEAVEN AND I DEAD ASS DIED RIGHT THERE THINKING ABOUT THAT AMBULANCE I SAW EARLIER ON CAUSE SHE JUST WASNT REAL. so she’s like “welcome to the lover secret sessions” and the noise that came out me was actually not human at all. she played half the album the first and kept apologising for ranting and going off topic which was so funny, she’s so adorable i was literally in awe. then was like “we’re gonna take a break so you can all go the bathroom, have a drink and stretch your legs” and then mentions she’s made us treats and everyone’s like OMG and she’s literally like “it’s just rice crispy treats i dyed in heart shapes” and it was just the funniest thing bc she’s just so sarcastic but they were the cutest things and just knowing she spent time making them was honestly insane. like i ate a rice crispy heart treat..made by taylor swift? sounds fake. so then as she’s passing them around, she’s goes into the garden and starts talking to everyone and thanking people’s parents and let everyone on her trampoline and just shouts “THESE ARE MY KIDS” with a glass of wine in her hand and it was such a taylor swift moment. it was just surreal like wtf? imagine bouncing on taylor swifts trampoline? i would’ve went on it but i wasn’t about to break my neck before listening to the rest of the album x

okay so we go back in to listen to the rest of the album and throughout the whole album listening part, i just kept crying and she kept looking at me and smiling and singing and i was just bloody in shock. there was one point during a song we’re me and georgia we’re holding onto each other crying and she just looks at us and tilts her head and gives us the most warming smile. right there we both died together it was unreal. but the album HOLY SHIT every song was INSANE. i found it so hard to pick a favourite so i have 3, this album is literally her BEST, and this coming from a speak now stan🤝 i was just the happiest i’ve ever been, it just seemed like a dream. seeing her sat there in front of me so happy and in such a good place, feeling so proud of this album and these songs just made my heart feel so full. what i was feeling in that moment is unexplainable. just pure happiness like i knew life doesn’t get any better than this... right it’s time for the meet and greets and everyone goes back in to the other room whilst they got ready and people started queuing then to go in and meet her, she spent so much time with every single person and seeing everyone’s faces coming out that room was so magical. the event was supposed to be over at 11pm and it’s literally 1:30am when it was my time to meet her. she’d literally been meeting people for HOURS and is 2 and half hours past the end time and she didn’t even mind. everyone was so eager to go inside that me and the girls decided to wait till the end.

so evie had just come out and now it’s my turn. i almost fainted, i was so dizzy and nervous and WHEN I TELL U I WAS PETRIFIED TO GO INSIDE, I ACTUALLY MEAN IT BECAUSE I WAS STOOD OUTSIDE THE DOOR REFUSING TO GO IN FOR ABOUT A MINUTE CAUSE I COULD JUST SEE HER STOOD THERE AND I WASN’T READY BECAUSE LIKE I’VE DREAMT ABOUT THIS MOMENT SINCE FOREVER. emma and lisa we’re stood there laughing trying to force me inside as well as a girl from TN. took me a good minute but i finally walked in, i walk over to her trying not to cry AGAIN and she’s stood there smiling at me and she says to me “it’s tyler isn’t it?” and i was like JDJSKDJD “yeah 😭😭😭😭” cause i didn’t think she knew who i was and i was just randomly picked by TN??? she then pulled me in for the biggest hug and i just felt like this is it, i’m gonna bloody pass out. I TOLD HER THAT WAITING IN THAT QUEUE TO MEET HER WAS LIKE WAITING FOR THE ELECTRIC CHAIR and i was like why tf did i just say that omg but she laughed and was like “omg hahaha it’s like waiting for the electric chair that’s so funny” then i gave her the lover necklace i’d gotten made for her so we had matching and she kept saying how much she loved and how beautiful it was. then said “i love your necklace” with a little smirk because i was wearing her ‘TS’ initial necklace and my heart just went HDAJHDJDDH. then she asked did i enjoy the day and i was like of course??? it was so amazing i couldn’t stop crying and she was like “aw i had so much fun, i love doing these” and then she asked how i’d gotten here and i told her that i had to take 4 trains and she looked so shocked and thanked me for doing that and asked if i was travelling afterwards and i told her i had a hotel and she goes “omg good, PLEASE don’t talk to any strangers” and i’m just like YEAH OF COURSE ANYTHING FOR U MISS SWIFT :’)))) i hugged her about 3 more times and i asked her about tour, and how she found me and she said she’d found me on tumblr and literally said “its tylovestaylor right?” and i was just like WHAT. THE. ACTUAL. FUCK. IM SCARED. cause i barely use tumblr because i’m the only one who reblogs myself??? and i’d gotten my dm on twitter so my mind was like wtf is going on right now?? i told her i changed my url and she said she’d follow me 🥺 then says “so do you wanna like... take a picture together or something?” YEAH OF COURSE, IM A BIT OF A MESS RN BUT ABSOLUTELY. she asks what i wanted to do for the photo like stand, sit, go near the piano? and i told her to choose because my mind was just all over the place and she says to me “i think one sitting down with our legs crossed over acting all (then does some pose) and stuff” i just couldn’t believe what was actually happening. we sit down next to each other and she grabs my hand and i’m just holding her and the photographer takes the photo and she tells me to have a look to see if i like it and i said i looked so bad and she goes “ITS SO CUTE, YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL AND PHOTOGENIC” then the photographer told me i was really photogenic and tay goes “SEE SHE EVEN SAID IT” did taylor swift..who invented photos and beauty... just call me beautiful and photogenic? surely not. so we took one more pic and she said she loved it so i loved it😭😭😭 we got up and hugged again and i just kept saying i love you and she told me i was beautiful and i was like SO ARE U???? and then i told her that i still don’t believe she’s real and she laughed. we hugged again i told her i loved her as i was walking out she shouts “please get home safely” and i said “have a safe flight wherever you’re going next” at the same time and she laughed and was like “OMG THANKYOU?” and i walked out and the emotions i was going through oh my god. i’d just met my favourite person in the entire world? like never in a million years did i think i’d ever meet her let alone get handpicked for secret sessions. i was in so much shock like it wasn’t real. that never happened? i’m still in shock now and literally crying writing this. she was so lovely and welcoming and spoke to me like she’d known me forever.

AND AFTER ALL THAT, SHE DECIDES SHE WANTS ME LITERALLY DEAD AND LIKES MY POST ON HERE FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER. RIGHT AFTER I’D MET HER.

i couldn’t get over how beautiful she is, inside and out like i already knew that but seeing her in real life is so different, she’s literally flawless and so cute and delicate and i’ll literally die for this woman. thankyou so much, from the bottom of my heart @taylorswift for choosing me out of 100m+ fans, i’ll never understand why i was chosen but i can’t explain how grateful i am. it was by far the best day i’ve ever had in my 18 years of being alive, nothing will ever come close to that moment. i cant wait for everyone else to hear this album, i miss you and your hugs already and i forgot to tell you because my mind was blank but i’m insanely proud of you and will support you forever. promise.

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maiaofmischief · 4 years ago

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Ask Meme

Thank you for the tag, @zeldabard!

why’d you choose your url? Maia, as in the god-like beings from LOTR/Silmarillion, and of Mischief, because I enjoy causing harmless mischief. So, God of Mischief, essentially.

any side blogs? Yes, quite a few honestly. In the little page here there is a full list. However the ones that are active (and not just defunct rp/fan blogs from when that was a thing that I still occasionally post things on out of nostalgia) are:

Mischievious Midnight, my Halloween/autumn blog

Winter Wonder Mischief, my Winter/holiday blog

Mischievious Adventures, my d&d blog

how long have you been on tumblr? Since April of 2012. Yikes, that’s almost 10 years.

do you have a queue tag? I do not. Generally, almost everything that you see on my blog is something I’ve queued. There are exceptions (usually new posts that I make tend to be posted as soon as I finish them, or if there are a ton of posts at once that’s me blogging live) but I feel like it would be weird if I started doing it now after so long of not having one.

why did you start your blog? hmm. Its been a long time, but there was a blog I had stumbled across that was doing some rp-esque posts (like workplace memos or something) that I liked enough that I wanted to know when they posted new things and beyond that I found all sorts of things to keep my interest and make me want to stay.

why did you choose your icon? The current one is me in cosplay as Revan. I was pretty damn proud of my costume (and still am, honestly, even if I’d more or less redo the whole thing if I ever was doing Revan again) since I made it with literally no help out of craft foam. It really doesn’t look like it was as cheap as it was to make. Eventually, when I have a cosplay I’m more proud of than that, I’ll probably update my icon.

what’s your post with the most notes? That I’ve posted? Probably this one.

how many followers do you have? 194

how many people do you follow? 974, which is both a lot and not a lot, given a lot of them are seasonal blogs or post only very rarely.

have you ever made a shitpost? There are some random ass musings on there that could qualify, but nothing specific comes to mind.

how often do you use tumblr? I check it in the morning and before bed. If I’m having a bad day or a boring day, I’ll probably check it more than that to distract myself.

did you have a funny argument with a blog once? No, I tend not to argue on here.

how do you feel about reblog bait? I hate them, if the general post was good but someone tacked that on in a later reblog, I’ll go back to the source to find one that doesn’t have that garbage on it. If I can’t find one without (like if it is in the original post) I won’t reblog it even if I agree with the general sentiment. I don’t like anyone telling me what I have to do and I like even less the ones that have some sort of scare tactic associated with it. I’m immune to your shitty chain letters, internet, I’ve been getting them in one form or another (email back in the day, on here now) and I’m never going to give into your assholishness.

do you like tag games? Love them. They are a lot of fun. It might take a day or so to answer them (since I tend to do them on my actual computer versus mobile) but I enjoy them a lot.

which one of your moots do you think is tumblr famous? Honestly, couldn’t tell you. Most likely it’d be someone I least suspect. (Also, I’ve never heard the term ‘moots’ to describe mutals before... when did that start? I feel old now.)

do you have a crush on one of your moots? Well, I’m dating one of them... so... does that count?

I’m tagging: @kamenriderblaze, @sirofchaos, @themegnificentmage, @xander-ereinion, @ageless-aislynn, @gizmo1022, @tinx-methinks, and anyone else who would want to do it!

#tag game

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baekchelor · 5 years ago

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𝕕𝕒𝕪𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕖𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

pairings: George Mackay x reader genre: romantic comedy rating: pg13 synopsis: on the set of his new film, golden boy George Mackay learns a basic human truth: that the heart is deceitful above all things. warnings: slight smut

❝i love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches and every word he says. I love all his looks, and all his actions and him entirely and all together.❝ ― emily brontë

FOUR | ENDINGS & BEGINNINGS ◄ ᴘʀᴇᴠ

George has six different scripts waiting for him on his red mailbox when he gets back to his apartment building. The tail end of this autumn is a chilly, constant rainfall —one of the coldest London has seen in recent years.

Alma rolls down her window and waves, "Call me if you need anything." She's in the passenger seat of the Range Rover that picked them up from the airport.

"My sister sent over food," George responds. Daisy's text came in shortly after they landed. "I'll survive, Alma."

"That's not what I meant," his manager replies pointedly.

A mob of fans had been queuing in wait at the airport. George knew they were in for the hysterical cries and invasive photography, the obstacle course of thrust-out gifts and feet to trip over. He wished he could have had his last goodbye in peace, a memory in a hushed corner, however brief. But the sheer mass of bodies had been too much to contend with. In the end, he and Y/N were escorted out through separate gates. She took a flight to Los Angeles, he to London.

So again, with only the slightest fluctuation in tone, George says, "I'll survive." Because he and Y/N's friendship remained on good terms, and now that her T.V. Series promotion summoned her to L.A., he will have time to get over his little infatuation. When they see each other again, George's heart won't be able to jeopardize their relationship, and the prize will be to have Y/N in his life forever.

Not even an hour later... his plan goes to shit. George considered himself a man with a strong will. Apparently, when it comes to the girl who stole his heart in Mumbai, his resolution is tossed to the trash. He played London Boy first, then the Heartbreak Prince song, and before he noticed, he had ordered Chinese, simmered his ass on the sofá, and listened to Taylor Swift's entire discography as thoughts of Y/N, Mumbai and the way she makes him feel invaded his mind.

It takes almost a month for George to meet up with Dean, who's finally back from his filming schedule in France.

They kept in touch via texts. Dean asked for advice in certain scenes, described his character and his approach to him, and narrated funny anecdotes on set. In turn, George told him about Mumbai in vague, emotionless terms. He's had no contact with Y/N since they got back to their real life, and instead of making him forget, it filled him with a deep sense of loss. George partially blames Taylor Swift for that, but he doesn't tell Dean. It would be too humiliating, especially since George has never been lovesick before. The feeling is persistent and tactile, and terribly unsettling.

Today, they're at Dean's flat, smack dab in the centre of Soho. Dean has got his head bent over his phone, reading some table nonsense to not lose the habit. George nurses an iced coffee he ordered from UberEats and delves upon the fact he doesn't even like Taylor Swift's music yet his phone automatically play her songs whenever it is connected to Bluetooth.

George still holds out hope that he's going through a phase. A Y/N induced phase. Maybe, sometime soon, it will pass.

"You okay, Geo?" Dean is looking at him with concern.

George blinks, and he realizes belatedly that his friend is no longer at the table. He's standing by the water dispenser in the kitchen.

"I'm just thinking," George says dismissively, eking out a smile. He doesn't want to talk about this.

Dean smiles back, understanding, but he refuses to cave. Once his glass of water is filled, he returns to the table, and with a sigh, he asks: "Have you read the news lately?"

"No, not recently." George drums his fingers over the table. They produce a dull sound. "Why?"

"I'll show you," Dean says, handing the phone with a window open in a gossip article that headlines Henry Cavill and Y/N Y/L/N had ended their long term relationship. This time for good.

George's mouth quirks, "I see."

Pressing his elbows to the table, Dean nestles his face between cupped palms. "What are you gonna do about it?"

"About what?"

Dean's eyebrows slope and George traces the wood grain of the table with his fingertip. "You could be happy, you know? If you tell her," Dean addresses him openly.

There's that all-too-familiar twinge again; a heartstring plucked. "You don't know that," George bites the inside of his cheek. "We never even..." He trails off, and of course, he remembers: Y/N's fingers lacing into his, Y/N's warm body wrapped around his… Y/N's mouth, slick and soft and open for a kiss.

"That doesn't mean nothing happened," Dean mutters. "I know you, George. I know how much you're keeping from me. Your texts were dead giveaways if anything at all. Do you know how sad you look right now?" That word, again. "It's the first thing I noticed when you came in. I've never seen you like this. Like you're lost, or something." He puts his hand on the back of George's chair. "You realize everything's changed, don't you? And it's never going to go back to the way it was, no matter how much you force the issue?"

"What do you want me to do, Dean?" George says, feeling caged and itching with defensiveness. "Throw away our friendship, this special bond we have for an infatuation? For all I know, she can only think of me as a friend. Nothing else." He's embarrassed by the tremor in his voice. "I don't even know what I'm doing, pining over a girl like this, and she and I —we never discussed what this was, between us. And it's like you're asking me to risk it all, our friendship, Daisy, my peace of mind, so I can try for something uncertain with, with..." He hasn't said her name in a while, so his tongue stumbles over it. "Y/N."

"Yes." The word is as solemn as a prayer. "Because, clearly, you don't love Daisy, you never had, that's why things between you were nothing but a fling. You love Y/N. It's not just an infatuation."

George breathes silently, heavily, staring at the table.

The next words that come out of Dean's mouth are gentle, designed to coax, not provoke, "You have to stop torturing yourself, George. It's just making you miserable."

"Dean..."

"Listen," he sighs, clearly exasperated. "You say you don't want to put your friendship with Y/N at risk, but you already did. You're losing her in every fucking way possible. You haven't talked to her in weeks. Right now, you two are as close as strangers. All because you're scared."

"I am not scared. I am rational."

"You are not, Mackay. And you need to realise it."

They would've most likely kept going in circles if friends-with-benefits Daisy hadn't chosen that moment to text George. He replies because he wants a distraction and needs reassurance that what he is doing is the right thing to do, but the words of a dinner date and romantic plans sting nonetheless because it's something George wants with Y/N and can't have.

When George leaves the apartment, promising Dean to meet on Sunday for a match of Call Of Duty, the latter looks over and asks for George's well being.

George pulls up a smile to reassure him, but it's acted, and he knows it. All he can think about is that barely-there brush of lips in a hotel bed, that Thank you for Mumbai, that last look at the crowded airport, that question Y/N never asked him fading away like so many summer days.

It takes another four more months after that, and up until the very end, George vacillates between doing it and not doing it, making up his mind only to change it again at the last minute. But when he finally ends things with Daisy, it's almost like she's prepared for it.

They're sitting in her car, in somewhere's basement parking lot. Daisy doesn't have a speck of makeup on. It makes her look younger, more fragile.

"I wondered who was going to end it first," she says, thumbing at the steering wheel. "I thought it might be better if it was me. Maybe it would hurt less." She shrugs, and a lock of hair falls over her shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," George mumbles. He brushes it back, out of habit, before he realizes he doesn't have the right to do that anymore. His hand recoils. "I never wanted to hurt you."

She shrugs again, but her mouth twists this time. It's a defence mechanism. "I shouldn't be this upset. We weren't dating, you didn't love me, and since day one you made it clear you didn't seek for commitment," George can't stand the look on her face —one of pure defeat. "I told myself so many times that I could win you over. For a while, I was convinced I would actually get you to love me. There used to be this shiny little space in your eyes, reserved just for me... but when I visited you in Mumbai, I'd already been replaced without even knowing why."

"Daisy..."

"Do you really think I believe you want to end this because of your agenda, George?" she murmurs. Her laugh is brittle, like clattering metal. "Don't lie to me. I know it is because of Y/N." Her lip trembles, so she sucks it into her mouth.

She had known, after all. And she's angry, of course, she is. George deceived her. The shame of it makes his stomach roil with acid.

"Daisy," he entreats her, "She never...we never...I didn't..."

"It's worse that way," she hisses back at him. "It's even worse." She doesn't expound, but George understands her perfectly: a betrayal of the heart, not of the body.

When she adds, "I always knew you would fall in love. I just thought it would be with me," the blood rushes straight to George's head.

"I am not —I am. I don't know," George answers helplessly. He's dizzy, and he feels naked. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"I loved you so much," unrelenting, she whispers. A plump tear rolls down her cheek, followed swiftly by another. She draws herself up; proud as the Ophelia she plays in the theatre. "I don't want to see you anymore. Not anywhere. Delete my number. Delete our pictures. Don't bother sending back anything I've left at your place —you can have it all. Throw it out, if you want. I don't care."

George thought he'd been prepared for the consequences. He didn't realize it would feel like he was tied to a whipping post, his back exposed, as Daisy's words lashed him again and again.

The worst part is that she probably feels the same kind of pain, too.

"Why couldn't you love me?" she shakes out. Her cheeks are wet.

And George doesn't care if she hits him, doesn't care if she bruises his chest and his face with her balled-up fists that still smell like the coconut in her lotion. He reaches across the passenger's seat, pushing right past the boundaries he'll have to observe from now on, and he envelops her in a fierce, hopeless embrace.

She cries silently, her tears and sobs suffusing his shirt with damp heat. He holds her through the whole thing, knowing full well it will be another one of those last times until, after a long spell, she calms.

"I did care for you," George says then, tenderly, his voice breaking. "How could I not?"

Her entire face gentles, just a moment, before the softness is gone; the keenness of fresh heartbreak taking its place.

Daisy nods, perfunctory, and looks away.

When the door on his side unlocks with a quiet click, George knows she's telling him to go.

The bitter afternoon turns worse as George settles down on his couch, back at his apartment. His phone rings with a notification from Dean claiming it is better if Georges hears such news from him. A link is attached, and as soon as George opens it, he feels his heart rip apart.

All along, Dean was right. The time spent worrying over Dev Patel and Henry Cavill was a waste. He never saw Luke Hemmings coming, the thought didn't even cross George's mind, and now Luke and Y/N had been spotted together. Several times.

They went to Trader Joe's, left the store with bags of organic food and bottles of pink lemonade. They spent a weekend in San Francisco, Luke's nails painted red, and his fingers resting on the small of Y/N's back. They shared a cigarette at Sunset Strip, outside some old bar 80's rockstars use to hang out at. It annoyed George the most. She smokes with Luke but refused George's cigarettes the many times she came along to watch him poison his lungs with nicotine.

Dean was right.

Taylor Swift is right too, it feels like death by a thousand cuts. There's no use to get drunk, it won't be enough, he knows it. George pretended it was okay for so long when it isn't. The morning will come, and Y/N won't be his baby, won't be his friend. She is Luke Hemmings', and it is all George's fault.

At the pre-screening party for Dharma, two days before the film is slated for release, George finally sees Y/N again.

It's been months since Mumbai, months since Daisy, months since Luke Hemmings and months since they've had any sort of contact.

George's dyed his hair chestnut in preparation for a new role. Tonight, he wears eyeliner under his eyes (it reminds him of those days he filmed Hamlet) and a leather jacket. Greta thought it would be fun to throw a rock-themed party, she hired a band to perform live and required the dress-code to be inspired by the Age of Rock.

Y/N is wearing a black chain embellished mini skirt, a white turtleneck underneath a fucking 5SOS t-shirt, and she's, again, hanging off Luke Hemming's arm. His hair is a blond silk sheet draped over his forehead, and his lips hover close to Y/N's ear, speaking into it confidingly. It gives George a pang, right in the centre of his chest.

There's no avoiding each other. Not when Y/N is looking at him, all smiles and excitement, and she excuses herself from the conversation with Luke, Timotheé Chalamet and Florence Pugh to run straight towards George. He is tongue-tied, yearning, and all he manages is a lame nod that suits neither him nor the object of his affections. Y/N stops right in her tracks.

"George." Not London Boy, neither Heartbreak Prince. It sounds unnatural.

"Y/N," he replies. Not Gorgeous. "It's been a while."

They shake hands, and George is satisfied with that, but Y/N encircles her arms around his neck, hugging him as tight as George had wanted to hug her all those months they spent apart.

"I missed you," she says, a whisper. If only she knew how much George missed her, and the lengths he went to get her out of his head. He tried to hang out with new people, meet new girls. Hell, he even went out with his ex-girlfriend Doone. Twice.

Before George can be honest, his body tingling from the embrace, Luke greets him. He is polite and keeps things as brief as possible, but George forgets about him immediately after. Y/N is here, right here, within his grasp. She's with a handsome man, and it's been so long, and George is afraid she's forgotten all about their time in Mumbai. But there it is —that blessed, steadfast question flickering behind Y/N's orbs, and George clings to it like a port in a storm.

The moment Luke excuses himself to the stage (he will bless every guest with a song —George want to roll his eyes at it), the atmosphere shifts between them. She attentively waits for Luke to start singing; everybody is cheering and excited, and people let out awe sounds when Luke strums the first chords of Eye In The Sky. Of course, he would sing such a hit. Of course, his voice sounds perfect, and George grows embarrassed over his two songs from the Been So Long soundtrack. Of course, he feels, once more —The first time was when he walked inside and Here I go Again blasted on the speakers—, attacked by a song tonight.

"How've you been?" Y/N murmurs, eyes trained on a point across the room. The stage. "We haven't spoken to each other since we got back." She licks her lips into a cautious smile.

George follows the movement closely. "I ended things with Daisy," he says. Just like that.

"Did you?" The smile falters. "I mean if that is what you wanted... I'm —I'm glad..." If George hadn't spent so much time with Y/N before they stopped spending so much time together, he would have missed the subtle quake in the girl's voice. "How are you holding up?"

"Better." George looks over at her. He doesn't mean he felt terrible because of Daisy, and now he is better. George is better now because she's here, near him. "It was a big mess, but now I feel free." He licks his lips too because they've gone dry. And then he catches it —Y/N's gaze darting quickly to his mouth.

He places his hand on Y/N's thigh. It tenses, just for a second, before giving in. George realizes, at this exact moment, when Luke sings about how he can read someone's mind by just looking at them, that he can read Y/N's mind, and gaze, and body language, and he knows what Y/N has wanted to ask him. He's just been a coward.

"That's good," she exhales. "I'm glad."

Well, he won't be a coward anymore.

"We should talk," George says, voice pitched low. "You should come over to my suite, and we should catch up."

"Tonight?" her limbs tense again, muscles shifting under George's palm.

"If you like." George wants and wants and wants. "But only if you haven't got anything planned with your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend," Y/N tells him, and George knows there's an unspoken yet in her words. His heart skips a hundred beats. He still got a chance. He can still get the girl. And he can't wait for this party to be over.

"I'll come over tonight," Y/N agrees. "After this, whenever it ends. Wait for me." She passes her hand over the one George's resting on her thigh. Every meeting of skin on skin is a promise. George wants to hear it out loud for once.

"Perfect," the last of George's fingertips traces over her knuckles. Luke is weaving his way back through applauses and clinking champagne flutes.

"All right then, Geo."

George French-exit at ten, because he just can't sit still any longer. Plus, parties ain't something he is kneen of, they are a part of his job, and he has to endure it as much as filming in cold-ass water. He didn't even attend The Oscar's after-party, to begin with. Tonight he decided to come along because he wanted to see her, be near Y/N at least one more time. If everything goes well after midnight, he will lay eyes on the girl of his dreams forever. It gives George hope.

He squeezes his way out of a cluster of guests and quickly pulls Y/N aside.

"I'll see you around midnight," she whispers. George's thumb traces soothing little circles into the underside of her wrist.

"Midnight." He feels the skinship all over his body, like concentric ripples of water. "I'll be waiting."

George is wearing sweats now, showered, changed, and just...ready. His bangs are flopping into his eyes (he grew his hair for the same role he dyed it, and it is long enough for him to tie it in a small bun at the back of his head). With arms exposed to the warmth radiating from the fireplace, George rests on the duvet in front of it, staring at the flames and cursing himself for blowing it out of proportion. The fact he has felt blue since Mumbai is his own doing, and taking such responsibility, is what tells him this love is worth the fight.

The clock on his wrist reads half-past twelve. It's not that he is afraid Y/N won't come —although the thought of it makes him lose his mind. It's that the build-up to this moment has been torturously slow, achingly indefinite and he just hopes this thing, whatever it is, works out the way he wants it to. Which is Y/N, telling him that her heart belongs to him, that they'll be just fine.

It's a quarter to one when the doorbell sounds. On the other side of the door, Y/N's face is exhausted. "I'm sorry. I couldn't get away until now."

"It's fine," he says, stepping aside so she can come in. "You've never been late before."

Y/N slides off her jacket at the entrance. She's still in her party outfit, and even though she's still wearing that damn 5SOS t-shirt, George has never seen anybody look so perfect. Perfect for him, especially.

He doesn't know what his body is telling his brain, but suddenly he's reaching out and curling his fingers into Y/N's hair.

Both freeze on the spot, unsure of their actions. When she looks up, George's ocean eyes are perilously wild.

"I don't wanna lose this with you," he says.

And finally, velvet-toned and whisper-soft, she asks: "How do you feel about me?"

George is standing in the portal of the foyer, a step above her. Barefoot, in a tanktop, shutting the door close. This is it, he intones, brimming with everything he's kept to himself all these months. Finally.

"How do I feel?" he mumbles, more to himself than anyone else. Then he rests his forehead against Y/N's, his hand cupping her face with such love, if they were still filming Dharma, Greta would have gone nuts. He once told Y/N that James and Marina's love seemed out of this world, and now, he understands them. He feels such. "I'm in love with you."

All the resistance seeps out of Y/N's body —a vapour, escaping. Her shoulders sag in relief. Her expression softens, turns bittersweet.

They've wasted so much time.

"That's good to know," she breathes out, shaky "because I am in love with you too."

It's George who steps forward and presses her against the wall. Y/N is ready for him, craning up, so their lips latch together like magnets. At first is gentle, soft, almost fearful, but it slowly morphs into a kiss hot and heavy, deep and merciless. They breathe in through their nostrils, so they don't have to stop kissing. There are no polite introductions, no tentative licks against the seams of their mouths. She opens up for him willingly, without being asked. Their tongues circle in a primal dance and George gets completely drunk off of it, plunging in for more.

The sound it pulls out of her makes George kiss her harder. He takes one hand from where it's tangled in Y/N's hair and trails it down her neck, her shoulder, her chest, and back around to her bum. When he creeps a hand under the skirt to palm her legs all the way up to her smooth back, the girl breaks away for air.

"Do you know," George rasps, "how crazy you make me?"

"Do I?" The question isn't provocative, is innocent. Y/N really is clueless about how she makes him feel.

"You're making me jealous all the time," George mutters. He pushes their hips closer together, and they both let out sibilant gasps.

"I thought you were in love with her. When you brought her over." Y/N is trying to regain control, but George presses in to make her shudder. "Thought it was over between us."

"It was never over." George tugs at Y/N's bottom lip with his teeth then lave over the spot with his tongue. "My body is mine, my lips and skin as well. But I am not. I am yours."

On cue, Y/N slips a hand under his tank. Her fingers meander over the grooves of George's abs, searing the skin. "Your body is yours, your lips are yours, your skin is yours. And I am. Yours," she murmurs, chest heaving.

George shuts his eyes. It feels so good. All of it. He brushes his thumb, feather-light, over her lips. His voice is dangerous, "What parts of you?"

"Everywhere," when she answers, George pulls the girl flush against him, peeling away from the wall so he can walk them both in the direction of his bedroom. Y/N lets him lead the way, as she sucks at the side of his neck. She's going to leave marks at this rate —a row of dark red roses—, and fuck it, he wants her to, so he can see the evidence of their mutual longing tomorrow. Y/N feels George's heat and his strength, there, between her legs, and it's enough to make her shudder. "Everywhere."

They don't say it while they're naked, writhing at every touch to uncharted territory, sweating from their exertions towards climax as they come together as one.

George does say, "I didn't look at anyone else since I saw you," and Y/N whispers, " I didn't think of anyone else since I thought of you."

They say it in the daylight, over the pot of coffee Y/N brews and the out-of-a-magazine waffles she blushes at when she sheepishly serves it to George, sprinkled by powdered sugar and syrup.

"Hey," George says, pushing around the berries. She's sitting on his lap, wearing his shirt, his scent on her skin, and George feels in heaven. "I love you."

He strokes the side of her face, slowly, sweetly, shyly, until the two of them are blushing. He suspects this is one of those moments he will carry around with him like a photo in a locket —a small and lovely secret.

"And I love you, Geroge Mackay," she says in return. "More than anybody else."

►

A/N: aaaand, that’s it. Hope you enjoy it. Next week I will post the Epilogue and the heartfelt message for all of you who have read this. Lots of love. xx

#did u see the captain fantastic easter eg?? haha #George mackay #dean charles chapman #Luke hemmings #Henry cavill #william schofield #schofield #Thomas blake #blake #1917

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oumaheroes · 4 years ago

Text

Earthbound 2/?

Summary:

Centuries after humanity fled a dying Earth and found sanctuary in the stars, the planet has healed enough to support mankind once more. For some, there is something more than curiosity; memories from another life whisper history in familiar voices, calling them home.

'He closes his eyes and thinks about blue flowers and large statues of stone, of ships and red coats flapping over a green meadow.'

Part 1

Part 3

AO3

……………………………………………………………………

Chapter 2: Journey to Neverland

Morning comes, and Alfred finds himself huddled on the floor of a toilet stall. He was fine up till very recently, having spent the previous night occupied with travelling to where his ship was docked via his dome's rather old shuttle bus. The covers of the seat of the bus had been cracked with age and Alfred had absent mindedly picked at the stuffing whilst he watched his childhood home zip by in a blur of dusty yellow before slipping away into the distance. The Earth-bound ship, his new home for now, was very different in comparison to anything he'd ever seen on the planet before, all bold, sleek lines of monochrome with bright lights and shiny windows that hadn't yet been smeared opaque by the atmosphere. It was exciting, it was different; it was like a dream coming true because there in front of him had been something which represented a future, a very large representation of the possibilities he could find.

He queued up to board and was assigned his room all within the space of a hour and Alfred had quickly unpacked with a frenzy of excitement in his small room. His room mate, a small, quiet man called Kiku, had watched the sudden chaos with an unreadable expression from the bunk he'd retreated to with a book after he had introduced himself. For Alfred, that was all easy. That was all doing something, there was a plan and it needed action and Alfred lost himself in the motions.

But then he'd run out of things to do. Kiku had watched him from the corner of his eye as Alfred grew progressively more anxious, rearranging his things, standing up to stare out of the window, sitting down to his laptop, getting up again, all whilst the feeling of panic took root and bloomed in his chest. It was now, with an empty task list and hours to wait before take off, that Alfred suddenly understood what exactly it was he had just done and was in the process of doing.

He had excused himself for a walk but hadn't got far before all of his anxiety came to a head and he needed to get away from all of the people, away from the windows where he could see the landscape he'd soon be leaving behind without knowing if he'd ever see it again and away from the exits and doors, most of all, because he was half scared that he'd just walk out of one.

He chose the first bathroom he came to and squashed himself on the floors in a stall, pillowing his head in his arms as he squeezed, and still squeezes, his knees in a desperate attempt to calm down and rationalise.

Breathe.

He extracts an arm from where it is hooked under his knee and glances at his watch. It is 10.38am. By now, he should be at work. By now, his parents would be up and assume he is where he is supposed to be, at work now themselves. It took him five hours to get to the ship, so he has until 12pm to board a bus back and get home before them, to pretend that nothing had happened. He has until 12pm before whatever choice he makes becomes the only one he has left. If his parents were to find out, if they were to know where he plans on going or if his job were to get wind of what he is doing then he doesn't think there will be any chance of fixing it completely. His boss and colleagues would consider him a flight risk and which would ruin his chances at moving up the career ladder, his parents would be broken hearted that he had thought about leaving in the first place, not even adding on the hurt that he didn't plan on saying goodbye, and he knows that if he goes home to talk about it with them he'd be talked out of it instantly. He doesn't even think that he'd put up much of a fight.

Alfred buries his face back into his knees and bites on his cheeks, not hard enough to draw blood or cause any real pain but enough for him to focus on. What was he doing? Was he really going to throw his whole life away, all of what he'd built and all of what he could have, just like this? On a whim? Because that's what this is, a whim, and he knows it. What if there is nothing waiting for him on earth, what if there isn't anyone who wants him to work in history, what if he can't settle in or make friends or get enough money together to try again; is it worth the risk?

He hears the door to the bathroom open and he stills, breathing slowly through his mouth before carefully going to uncurl himself and move to the toilet where his feet won't be seen.

He's too late. The footsteps of the other person stop on front of the mirrors over the sinks but they quickly start moving again, towards where he's hiding. The footsteps slow down before coming to a stop in front of his door and Alfred watches as the person shifts their weight from one foot to the other, as if they're deciding what to do.

'Hello?' They say in a soft, tentative voice. Alfred knows it's stupid, because the other person, a young man by the sounds of it, obviously knows that he's here, but for a second he thinks that maybe if he doesn't say anything they won't notice him.

'Um, are you okay?' Still Alfred doesn't answer and watches as the person outside his door shifts to the other foot.

'Do you need me to get anyone, or anything?'

'No,' he surprises himself by answering and without his self-control his voice catches before he's able to stop it. He forces himself to speak again, more normally, 'I'll be alright, but thanks! Just ah... just needed to get away for a bit.'

'Cool uh, okay. Me too, you know? It's a lot to think about.'

It's hard to keep up a conversation when one of the participants in locked in a toilet but the other man has that small wobble in his voice that Alfred is trying to cover up in his own and he realises that this guy isn't going to go away any time soon. So, legs beginning to cramp anyway, he shakily gets to his feet and unlocks the door.

The other man is his height and seems to be his age, with shoulder length, wavy blond hair and large round glasses perched on his nose. They're slipping, and he pushes them up as Alfred emerges.

He gives a small smile. 'Hey, glad you're alright. I didn't know whether to disturb you or not, if I'm honest.'

Alfred shakes his and sticks out his hand for the other to take. 'Nah, I'm glad that you did. I was talking myself round in circles in there.'

The man takes it and gives it a quick shake. 'I know the feeling, bit crazy this, eh? I'm Matthew.'

'Alfred.'

Matthew nods at him. 'Nice to meet you. You here with anyone?'

He obviously doesn't mean the bathroom and Alfred swallows the hot flash of loneliness and regret that makes itself known in his throat. 'Nope, all alone! You?'

Matthew ducks his head and shifts his feet again. 'Same.'

'Do you...' Alfred pauses, uncertain if he wants to hear the answer, but he heard the wobble in Matthew's voice and he must be Alfred's age; he must be worried about similar things to what Alfred is so he presses on, 'Can I ask you something kinda personal? Do you think we're doing the right thing, leaving here? I mean it's a long way away and everything and it's not like there's an easy way back.'

Matthew blinks at him and takes a long breath in before answering with a voice filled with unexpected finality. 'Yeah. I mean, I don't know what your reasons are, of course, or what you're giving up, but-' He stares at the spot between Alfred's eyes and continues, 'but we're going to Earth, even if it goes horribly wrong or we don't get what we're going there for, it's Earth, isn't it? It's worth a try.'

It's what Alfred wanted to hear, it's the validation of his selfishness that he needed but it doesn't quite soothe his concerns as much as he had hoped.

Matthew must have noticed, because he tries again, sounding slightly panicked, 'I'm sure you'll be fine though, whatever happens! I mean, I'm going there because I'm hoping to work with all of the animals they've got; my parents warned me that they won't care about that and will probably put me to work on a farm or something but as long as you're fit to work they're not gonna turn us away, right?'

Alfred fights down the euphoric glee trying to become a grin on his face and instead says, 'Yeah, but farms have animals too, right?'

Matthew laughs. 'I bet I'll get trodden to death by a cow.'

Alfred claps him on the back. 'Hey, that sounds like a great way to go! Don't worry, man, I'll write home for you and say it was a elephant, or something. You know, keep your street cred up.'

Matthew rolls his eyes and grins at him. As he jabbers about the elephants that used to live on Earth before the Fall, later on in one of the canteens on their deck where they go for lunch, Alfred notices the clock hit 12 and feels nothing but excitement.

He'll be fine.

……………………………………………………………………

Peter is twelve, and the trip is finally coming to an end. It's been so many years, here on the ship, that if not for the books and videos he sees in school he would have forgotten how the domes and living stations from his home planet looked, now far far away. He thought that he was prepared for the sight of Earth, their species' old home world, he's seen so many photos of it that all he needs to do is hear the name to have it brought up in his mind, as detailed and as clear as anything he's seen with his own eyes. But, nothing could have prepared him for the real thing.

He is sitting in the corridor outside his living quarters. Mum and Dad are arguing, again, and he doesn't really want to be in there right now because he knows that as soon as they see him they'll pretend that nothing's the matter and he thinks that that's probably worse. With a sigh, he gets up, floor too hard to actually sit on for long periods, and goes for a wander around his 'neighbourhood'. As he passes doors of the others living here he wonders what kind of families live inside them: a mum and her kids, an elderly couple, someone young looking for something new, or maybe they're just like him, dragged here because their planet couldn't support them and they took a chance at building something better. A split family with barely anything to their name hurtling towards an unknown utopia.

It's been hard to get news of Earth and of the colony they'll be joining, when their ship stops only to refuel itself, but apparently it's going well. This is a comfort, at least, because not much else is these days. Some people live on space stations or spaceships and nothing else and although Peter finds an odd sort of comfort being surrounded by metal his parents, and many others, do not. Fights and spats amongst the passengers and crew have been increasing in the last few months, especially once everyone knew that they were getting close to the end of the flight. The ship they're on isn't even that small, so maybe it's not cabin fever after all and more impatience that drives the tempers high and tolerance down.

As he gets to a plaza of sorts, (the town square, as it is affectionately known,) he notices a huddle of people clambering over each other to reach and get a look out of the large, expansive windows there. Deciding against trying to force his way through the excited mass he goes forward and off to the side of the huddle to a smaller porthole and gazes out curiously.

What he sees is spellbinding, unlike anything he has ever seen before. It is not difficult to understand what is so interesting. Amongst the glittering, never-ending stars lies the Earth, shining bright and blue and all of a sudden Peter forgets how to breathe. It's blue, more blue than it ever was in the photos from his school books, there are swirls and blurs of greens and browns and whites mixed in all together but there is blue blue blue. In no picture did it ever look like this, earth was brown and dead and dry, this wasn't Earth. This wasn't the home humans had ruined, this wasn't what they had left behind. This, this couldn't be Earth, couldn't be his new home because there was so much water and-

Peter is jostled, another boy has pushed him away from the window where he had pressed his face close to the glass to see -his breath still mists the glass- but now he can only see the inky blackness of space from behind the boy's head and so he ducks away from the crowd of bodies and goes off in search of his parents, heart pounding furiously in his ears.

……………………………………………………………………

Francis, and the people he is with, are the first who will arrive on Earth. Their ship will get there the fastest and thus all aboard will be trained in a skill necessary to facilitate the setting up and maintenance of the first colony, distinct from the research bases already dotted about there. His mother must have known, because every adult he encounters are all young and healthy with intelligence and passion. There seems to be a entry requirement, because there are people from other planets besides his own that share the same qualities and all see to be formally trained, in one way or another. For the first time, he is grateful for his drafting.

Francis is happy to learn that he can pick what he wants to learn, out of the options that are available to him, and he chooses geology. The study of the soil and its chemistry isn't what he ever foresaw himself doing, but it seems to fit, somehow. As he learns about the tectonic movements of the earth, how the structure of the planet operates and how this in turn can affect and be affected by the weather, he feels like he's becoming a part of something once more. There is a goal at last, a purpose, and though he still feels as though there's something missing from his life the feeling is lessened by simply working past it; there is something to focus on.

It is lessened more so, maybe, by Arthur. Arthur is the unfortunate man assigned to share Francis' room, sleeping in the bunk above his, and specialising in agriculture. He wants to see the sea, has always wanted to see the sea, and when he talks about the oceans and cliffs and the rocking of far away waves Francis feels a part of himself become alive and real. Despite the nonchalance he coats it in, there is passion in Arthur's voice, there is a drive and a yearning which Francis recognises as one he used to share and to see it reflecting from Arthur's eyes makes his own burn with a longing he can't understand or explain. There is a tugging deep in his stomach and he starts to gaze out of the windows in anticipation, Arthur's voice drifting around his head to settle between his ears.

When Francis is twenty six, they finally get there. The stations below are set up on a nice bit of land close to the sea but also to a freshwater river too; there's fertile fields and dense forests with lots of wild-life and wild fruits and vegetables. He knows all of this before they're allowed down because that's all part of the training and survival lessons they're given. Each member must be capable of pulling their weight in areas other than their specialisation and Francis is now well versed on which plants he can eat and which he can't, how to make simple animal traps and how to catch a fish.

He feels ready to go and is excited to finally get to work and see these fields, seas and forests for himself, excited to see so much that he's only heard about and seen in pictures. And though he says otherwise, Arthur is just as excited, Francis knows, because anytime anything to do with Earth is mentioned he sits a little straighter, comes a little closer, and opens himself up a little bit more to get as much information as he can.

'Do you ever think,' Francis asks him one night, 'about where we're landing?'

Arthur turns over in the bunk above him and the metal creaks under his weight. 'What on earth are you talking about.'

'We're landing on what was once a country,' Francis explains, 'it once had people who had a language and a culture and a history. It's not just land, it was once a place that humans long ago spoke about.'

Arthur offers no further input, so Francis continues. 'It could have been someone's favourite place to go on holiday, or it could have been a small village where children grew up and played, or it could have been the site of a terrible battle from long long ago.'

'It probably was the site of a battle, at least once.' Arthur mutters from his bed.

Francis ignores him. 'It seems like a shame. Whatever is there will be built on by us; it's almost as if we're destroying its history.'

'We're not destroying it,' Arthur's voice is quiet but speaks volumes; he's thought about this before, 'we're adding to it. We're just another story for it to keep.'

Francis laughs and calls him sentimental but regrets it when Arthur throws a well aimed pillow at him.

'Shut it! Now, give that back.'

'No.'

'Francis! Give. it. back.'

'Why? You threw it at me, I did not take it from you.'

'For fuck sake, you utter waste of a human.' He's clambering down and once Francis sees his toes on the rungs of the ladder he rolls onto his belly, trapping the pillow beneath him. Arthur tugs on his shoulder and succeeds in rolling Francis back over but before he can do much else Francis grabs him and pulls him down to the bed. Arthur gives an undignified squawk, his head hits one of the metal frames and he tumbles gracelessly onto Francis' lap.

Francis can't help but laugh. 'Oh Arthur I'm sorry, are you-' but he's stopped by Arthur punching him in the eye, hard, and then there's one of their neighbours hammering on the wall next to Francis' ear, bellowing for them to shut the fuck up already because it's 1 am and some people plan on trying to sleep tonight.

They are taken down in the shuttle the next day in the afternoon. They're not allowed outside yet, they need to adjust to the planet's gravity and get used to the micro bacteria in the air, so they are housed in the Arrivals' building and assigned a room to sleep in for the time being. Francis has a black eye and Arthur has an egg-sized lump on his forehead but they're both too busy staring out of the window at the dazzling sunshine to complain that they've been put together, again.

……………………………………………………………………

Ludwig disappeared with Gilbert two days after his attack. Thanks to his illness though, they both easily convinced their parents that they'd rather stay home than making the trip to their grandparents' house and so they saw them off with ease, Gilbert trying not to grin and Ludwig trying not to give them away with how much he was sweating. As soon as they were alone he and his brother went to their rooms and packed a bag, Ludwig agonising over the situation with himself the whole time. When the day came a still wobbly Ludwig was bundled in his brother's transport pod and they both travelled to their boarding dock. It was so easy to leave.

Maybe that's what Ludwig is hurt most about. Neither parent seemed to care that he couldn't make it to his grandparents', neither parents called to check in one them whilst they were away. They probably wouldn't know anything was wrong until they returned, a few days too late to stop them.

Despite the ease of everything else, the trip itself is horrible. Ludwig's body, having only barely adjusted to his own ship's gravity systems, now finds itself thrust upon a different one and is rebelling angrily against him. The attacks are more frequent now than ever, leaving him unable to work at anything for long before another one knocks him back to bed. Today is one such day, he curls up in his bunk and tries not to complain or let his brother know how bad he feels; Gilbert does enough for him already.

He must have fallen into a daze, because he wakes up in a panic to the sounds of Gilbert kicking the door open and flinging his work bag against the wall with a thud. He tries to sit up but the world pitches alarmingly, so for the good of both of them and the state of their floor he lays back down gingerly. 'Bad day?'

Gilbert snorts and flops down on the floor to tug off his boots. 'I'll fucking say, there was massive electrical surge in one of the computers and it fucked up at least a third of people's personal systems on the ship.'

Ludwig clucks his tongue in sympathy and looks his brother over with concern. Despite looking harried he doesn't seem too worse for wear, but he works far too much in order to support them both and it's tiring him out. However, someone needs to pay for their keep and it sure as hell can't be Ludwig at the moment.

Gilbert catches him staring and glares at him, knowing what he's thinking about. They've been down that particular road before and despite how guilty Ludwig feels he can't get further than simply mentioning the topic before Gilbert either walks away or throws something at him to get him to shut up. The guilt sits on Ludwig like a stone, pushing down on his chest. His brother had a life, had a future, and he gave it all way to become this, an engineer's whipping boy for a brother who can't even sit up most of the time let alone pull his own weight. Useless.

Gilbert throws a boot at his head and Ludwig yelps. 'Get rid of that look from your face, I'm doing this because I want to, ya hear?'

Ludwig nods, because that's what his brother wants him to do.

'Good. Besides, it wouldn't have been half as bad if the head engineer wasn't such a dick. Rumour is that there's a boy genius on board we picked up at the last stop but when ol' Stevie went to get him to help the boy turned him down.' Gilbert gives a scoff. 'He's got balls, whoever he is. Either that or he's an idiot. Besides, if they'd let me have a look at it I could've probably done it.'

Ludwig rolls his eyes but refrains from saying anything further. He leaves Gilbert to undress and unwind in silence, only speaking to him again once he's sure his brother has relaxed enough.

'What if nothing changes, when we get to Earth.'

Gilbert, from where he's sprawled himself in their chair, visibly stiffens. He's obviously considered this too, then. Maybe the possibility has been on his mind just as much as it's been praying on Ludwig's. How could it not? 'It will.'

'But-'

'It will!' Gilbert has clenched his e-tab tighter, Ludwig can see the whites of his knuckles from here. 'It will, so there's no point worrying about it.'

Ludwig breathes deeply. 'It's something we've got to think about.' He says gently. If not for him, for what Gilbert will do next.

Gilbert curls his lip and refuses to look up. He prods his tab awake with more force than is needed. 'No, it's not. If it don't work, if you still can't do anything more than roll about, then at least you'll be better off than home.'

'I might be, but what about you?'

'What about me?' Finally, Gilbert looks up and he's furious. Gilbert is very free with his emotions, but never has anything negative been directed towards Ludwig before and it startles him. 'You think I was happy back there? Just because I was strong enough for them? Well you're just as fucking stupid as they were if that's so.' He stands up, crosses the room and starts to pull on his boots again.

'Gilbert-'

'You were wasting away there.' Gilbert's voice cuts though Ludwig like a knife because it's the truth, no matter how much he tries to deny it. 'They were happy to let you die if that's what it came to and I somehow was supposed to not care about that. It was fine, right? As long as they had one of us. But that meant I had to be everything, Lud. I had to be both of us and both of us had to be fucking perfect.'

Gilbert looks at him, curled up pathetically in bed and shakes his head at him, face unreadable. 'What kind of life is that?'

Boots on he wrenches open the door and walks out with a bang, leaving Ludwig mortified. How selfish of him.

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