#inspired by Anxiety sans
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afterartist · 2 years ago
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Also I forgot to post this one
(Definitely gonna do a more InDepth post for this for this AU)
But I was inspired by a few other AUs, namely Anxiety sans by @hheisa and ADHD sans by @/gudulle
Seeing other people make sans AUs with disorders inspired me to make one based of a disorder I struggle with but not many people know about,
So meet Misophonia sans!!
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Misophonia (also known as Selective Sound Sensitivity Disorder) is an Anxiety disorder (thought to be a negative cousin of Synesthesia and also had heavy links to PTSD) where the sufferer, upon hearing certain triggering noises, with go into a full blown panic attack,
The response can vary from person to person and even just day to day, but most common are the urge to flee the situation, cry/shut down or attack the person making the triggering noise in an attempt to silence them
Most common triggering noises are related to chewing or breathing, I myself can accidentally set myself off from my own breathing and it’s horrible, (also a common misconception is it being the loud noises that trigger Misophonics, but more often then not it’s the quieter sounds) though this is actually quite different from the noises that regular people get upset by
There’s a huge difference in being annoyed by a sound verse actively trying to deafen one’s self to avoid the trigger noises
Also, side note, if someone tells you they’re struggling with Misophonia and you think it’s okay to deliberately make their trigger sounds to upset them please block my account and never interact with me, you are deplorable.
Anyway, I can’t explain all about Misophonia in a single post with a rough sketch, so i implore you to go research some more on your own, but I will definitely be making more posts about this lil guy
Ps: some of the only slightly positive/interesting news about Misophonia is that it’s been found Misophonics usually seem to have a stronger positive reaction to music then non Misophonics :D
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didderd · 1 year ago
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dealing with a lot of anxiety today, so i drew this while listening to Anx's playlist.
Anxiety sans belongs to @hheisa
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fizzytoo · 6 months ago
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3 days and 2 nights in San Myshuno!
Thank you for accepting out invitation to showcase your work at our Gallery. The Airbnb we've set up for you and your family is in convenient walking distance of the Gallery and several local attractions! We can't wait to see you at the showcase.
-Casbah Gallery
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fushitoru · 16 days ago
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seperation anxiety! a (clan head) gojo satoru fic
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pairing ⸺ clan head!gojo x wife!reader
summary ⸺ satoru begs you to attend a meeting with the higher-ups, but not for the reasons you thought. inspired by this art by @/baobei-bu!
warnings ⸺ SMUT, gojo is a warning by himself, VERY public sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied, no penetration, fingering, fondling, making out, panty-ripping, exhibitionism, kinda cucking but the only ppl humiliated and humbled are the higher ups, porn no plot, but plot if you squint, reader is a strong independent woman (until gojo charms her, bc who wouldn't turn into a cockslut for gojo?), this took me at least five hours to write for no good reason?, not edited (like always....)
a/n pls enjoy and thank u to the queen for making such delicious art (p.s. go to their twitter for nsfw ver i squirted)
general masterlist
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“Pleaseeeee,” Satoru has his face buried in your chest, nuzzling in further while complaining. It’s almost comical how he—head of the biggest clan in Jujutsu—is leaning down to match your height. You, meanwhile, stand firm, arms crossed, regarding him with a mix of exasperation and reluctant affection as he leans down to meet your gaze. “Will you come with me?”
The question comes as the dreaded meeting with the higher-ups looms, a gathering he's been dodging all day. It technically began ten minutes ago, and you barely managed to wrangle him into his formal kimono just twenty minutes earlier. You sigh, fingers brushing his hair. “Satoru, you know what they think of me. I'm not exactly their favorite person.” You’re both standing in the middle of your shared bedroom, you imploring him to be on time for his meeting to avoid getting even further shit from the higher-ups.
Mind you, you’re the more rational one between you and Satoru—in fact, most of the people who know you would agree that you’re a very mature, wise person in general (with the exception of some circumstances, of course). And despite the respect your skill commands, the higher-ups have never warmed to you, not since you refused to play a pawn in their games. Marrying Satoru, the one jujutsu sorcerer they could never control, only amplified their discontent. They see you both as threats—powerful sorcerers bonded in defiance.
At the mention of "higher-ups," Satoru's pout deepens, and his pleading voice grows more insistent. “Pleeeease,” he drags out, practically whining. “I have separation anxiety.”
You feel a pang of sympathy. These meetings are miserable for him—hours trapped in a room with men twice his age, trying to dictate his every move. “I don’t know, Satoru…” you murmur, hesitating.
But Satoru takes advantage of your softening resolve, hugging you tighter, his face pressing into you again. “Don’t make me go in there alone!” he says, his voice muffled. “You have no idea how much you silence them. One word from you, and they all think twice. I’m already one step away from wanting to kill them all.”
A sigh escapes you as you realize he’s not letting up. And while you’re reluctant, you know that your presence, your opinion—one of the few he truly values—might actually give him a sense of calm in that harsh room. “Alright, alright,” you concede finally, hand smoothing the fabric of his sleeve. "But no making a scene." 
His answering smirk is smug, giving you a fat, sloppy kiss on your cheek that you’re not afraid to show your partial-disgust about. You all but have to wrestle him off of you white he’s smothering you in kisses, getting out something about how much loves you, oh so thankful to have such a wise wifey like you as you get ready in a kimono similar to his and head to the limo waiting outside of the manor you and Gojo reside in. 
As soon as you get in, Gojo turns sharply to Ijichi, who’s shifting the gear. “Put the divider up.”
“O-Okay, Gojo-san.” A little intimidated by the commanding tone in your husband’s voice, he quickly presses the button to activate the screen, and Gojo pounces on you, grabbing you and hoisting you up by your sides to put you on his lap.
“Satoru!” you exclaim, surprised as he captures his lips with yours. His hands roam your body as he moans, almost obnoxiously, because he knows you’re always paranoid whenever he initiates anything in public. Your crotch aligns with his thigh, big and stuffed with muscle as he drives your hips to grind on him, and despite yourself and your circumstances, you find yourself leaning into his touch.
“My pretty wife,” he purrs, now trailing kisses down your jaw and into your neck. “So pretty, so supportive.”
Despite his dizzying movements, you try to get a hold of yourself. “Satoru, we shouldn’t be doing this here. We need to discuss what to sa—”
“Fuck that,” he sighs, so breathless that you want to cave in.
“No, but—”
His eyes darken, and his hands start creeping up your legs, going slowly and slowly closer to your pussy. “Baby, you know I value what you have to say,” and his fingers graze your folds, making you leak even more with his teasing, “but I wanna listen to something else.”
He drags his index finger up and down your slit, making you whimper. His fingers then prod into your hole, putting pressure there but not quite delving in. “Satoru,” you whine out, clutching his upper arms as he has his way while toying with you.
“Yea, that’s what I wanna hear,” he groans, giving you a kiss. It is then that he rewards you with inserting his digit in, curling to hit your spot as he fingers you. HIs other arm is around you, holding your panties’ crotch to the side to allow him to touch you. “My good girl.”
As he’s touching you, the squelching sounds fills the enclosure you’re in and you’re desperately praying to God Ijichi can’t hear the lewd things the both of you are doing in the back. You’re just reduced to whimpering, unable to reject Satoru’s dizzying touches, his free hand leaving your panties to grope at your inner thighs, ass, and breasts. It’s like he’s devouring you with his kisses, urgent, as he continues curling his fingers. 
Between kisses, you try to get out a “Satoru—mmph,” smooch, “we shouldn’t be—mm” smooch, “shouldn’t be doing this here!” 
“What,” he drawls, and with the glint in his eyes you know the fucker’s trying to toy with you, knows what he’s doing is mischievous. “I can’t touch my wife?”
Before you could utter a response, however, the limo suddenly slows, and the sensation of using the brakes to stop the car makes you sober up. “We’re here, Satoru we need to go—-” As you’re trying to rip yourself off his lap, he pulls out the finger that was inside you and uses his hand instead to entangle it with the crotch of your panties, pulling and pulling until the cloth is nothing but shreds, falling off your body.
Oh my god, you were not paid enough for this shit.
With his oh-so-irritating eyes—the same ones that you spent despising in your early school years—he looks at you through his pretty white lashes as he makes a show of sniffing the now tattered shreds that were your panties and putting them in his pocket. Under your kimono, you can feel your slick escaping your panties as the cool air wafts through it, landing on your pussy. You look at him in disbelief. “I can’t believe you just did that.”
He giggles, giving you a kiss on the cheek while helping you off his lap, putting a hand on your head to make sure you didn’t bump your head against the car’s ceiling. “Let’s go and deal with those hags, my love.”
To be honest, you don’t really understand why Satoru is so handsy today. He’s on some sort of man-ovulation, you think, as you stride into the room. Even ripping off your panties was a bit excessive, if not out of pocket (no pun intended). Breaking out of your thoughts, you grounded yourself in the present, noticing hostile eyes turned towards your husband, and then you. You match their barely-subtle glares with a stink eye of your own, holding your chin up as you walk past them dismissively. Just as you’re about to take a seat next to Gojo—being mindful of your kimono so you don’t flash any of these old bastards—one of them speaks up. 
“Gojo-sama, why is this woman here?”
You continue to take your seat, noticing Satoru’s jaw clenched. But right as he’s about to say something, you cut in for him. “This woman,” and you smile, deceptively sweet, “is the lady of the clan. It would do you well to remember the hierarchy of the Gojo clan.” You don’t need to turn to look at your husband to know he has a proud smile on his face, making no effort to hide his smugness. What shocks you instead is that he swings an arm around you, effectively dragging you closer to him until you’re basically sitting on his lap, and his hands go to roam your sides.
Now, some old grandpa starts talking, commencing the meeting, on their usual bullshit of the need for extermination of Sukuna’s vessel, but Satoru pays them no mind. Instead, what they receive in response is non-committal hums as his hands drag themselves up your stomach and down where your legs are crossed to the hem of your kimono, and then under. 
Any semblance of paying attention to the meeting and responding to their infuriating beliefs leaves your mind as you blank out, panicking that Satoru is trying to commit public indecency with you. As an argument erupts between the higher ups about something, you turn to Gojo to furiously whisper, “What is wrong with you today?! Cut it out.”
In your life, you’ve fought many curses, first grade and even special grade included as you climbed up the ranks of Jujutsu sorcery despite having a non-sorcerer upbringing. What you will never be able to defeat, however, is your husband’s charm. Satoru knows what he’s doing as he lets out a deep moan in your ear, making you squeak and become even more flustered, as he continues to make lewd noises, puffs of his breath fanning across your neck. 
a/n gojo the type to start moaning randomly to make you fold #sorrynotsorry 
The indecency of all of it—-Gojo basically whimpering in your ear sweet nothings like good girl, that’s my wife, gonna let me finger you in front of all these ugly hags, right?—-being loud in your ear but also just quiet enough that you’d only hear made you so wet, heat throbbing between your thighs as Satoru’s hands start rubbing your fold. It’s a teasing touch, one not enough to satisfy you but to stimulate you nonetheless. 
It’s just when his index finger starts slowly circling around your clit that you buck your hips slightly, making him look at you teasingly, peering down at you from above your shoulder. “Oh you liked that, didn’t you?”
“I hate you,” you puff out, trying to fight the heat creeping up your neck as Satoru’s circles on your clit get more tangibly, simulating you oh so deliciously. To make sure you hold yourself up, you set your elbows down on the table, Satoru’s arms engulfing you as you’re forced to take whatever touches he’s giving you under the table. 
“She’s so loud,” he whispers, pointing out the noises your pussy was making as his digits roved over your folds. The squelches were tangibly there, audible to anyone who would strain their ears. You could tell your lack of response to the meeting was catching attention, because there were several eyes towards you, waiting for something; it was then you realized that they had posed a question but were simply too fucked out to respond. 
A voice comes out to reprimand your husband sharply. “Gojo-sama, this is hardly appropriate.”
Satoru chuckles, not stopping his ministrations as he picks up a cup filled with water, his smug gaze still turned towards you while observing and appreciating your every hiccup and reaction. “Can’t my spouse attend this meeting? I value her opinion above everyone else’s in this room, after all,” he drawls, lodging his chin in the curve of your neck. “Besides,” and he flashes a dangerous grin to the man who spoke out, “weren’t you the ones who were oh so worried about me not having an heir?” 
At this point, you’ve filtered out all noises, focusing and honing in on the sensation of your orgasm coming. His digits are playful, curling up to hit your g-spot repeatedly, his palm tickling your clit. Each time he hits your spongy spot a bout of electricity runs up your body, pulling you closer and closer to your orgasm. 
“But guess what,” and he gives you a kiss on the cheek, despite the aversion the rest of the higher ups have to any displays of affection, “we can solve that problem right here, right now.” He punctuates it with a harsh sink of his fingers into your plush cunt, and, with that, you finally cream his fingers, a result of Satoru teasing you all day now. You try to temper the shakes wracking your body by slamming your fist against the table, trying not to moan out.
It seems that no one’s seen you riding out your orgasm out so visible, because there are gasps around the room at how obscene Gojo’s suggestion was. “It is shameful of you to be saying such things, Gojo-sama!” one of them sputters out, red with anger and outrage. 
Your husband not so subtly rolls his eyes. “Then don’t bring it up all the time, old man.” Satoru knows how touchy and vulnerable you are right after you cum, so he’s running his hands softly up and down your thighs to quell your quivers affectionately. “Actually, what about this? You all haven’t witnessed us consummate our marriage, correct?” He smirks. “What about witnessing the heir-making next time?”
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a/n pls see the vision like i want gojo to claim me and rail me into next tuesday while the higher ups just watch uncomfortably like maybe i am a freak like that. like gojo would be so obsessed with how he's claiming you in front of the fuckers that piss him off so much...might do a part two if pookiesa like this :P
comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3
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causenessus · 9 months ago
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Dating Them. | Haikyuu
inc. akaashi, bokuto, oikawa, iwaizumi, sugawara, kageyama, kuroo
written in 2nd pov (female reader implied)
song recc: i got carried away and gave them all a song but i can't help myself so if u want another one, loverboy by a-wall
word count: 3105 words
summary: "what does dating them look like?"
i love them all sm <3 hopefully these all make sense!! tysm to @luvring for sending me down a deep retrograde with rex orange county whom i almost chose to link a song to for everyone but then narrowed it down to just oikawa <3 also almost put in we & us for akaashi but freaked out 💃 pls check out this post by her that inspired me!! it was so sweet
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akaashi
even if my heart stops beating you're the only thing i need with me even if the earth starts shaking you're the only thing worth taking even if the sky's on fire got you here, it's alright
looks like little gifts and notes left for each other everywhere
lunches made for the other left in lockers and on desks with little love notes <3
tell me he wouldn’t end every note to you with a little " ♡ ᵕ̈ " i dare you
you both handwrite the notes because texts are for losers
unless ofc one of you is out of town and you’re separated
then there are good morning and goodnight and i miss you texts
ending with ୧⍤⃝💐 and ᴖ̈ emojis
you both are very busy people so you just try to make sure the other is taken care of and knows they’re loved until you guys see each other again <3
dates are always lovely with him but the best part of them is when you guys get to go home
when it’s late at night and one of you is between the legs of the other, laying against their chest as you both do your individual things or something together
since life is so hectic it’s nice to just have these quiet moments in each other's presence <3 all he needs is to be around you and he doesn’t need anything else
there's definitely so many intimate and domestic moments with him
getting home from games used to be one of the worst parts of playing volleyball but you’ve made him look forward to it 
he loves to call or text you on the way home <3
if you’re able to stay at his house and be there when he gets home even better !!
you’re always taking care of him, making him something to eat or cleaning him up <3
how you guys started getting interested in each other?
I think at first sight you were curious about each other but one specific interaction sealed the deal <3
akaashi for sure knows so many random facts and how things work and most of the time when bokuto says something, it’s incorrect and akaashi will correct him <3
one afternoon when you three were together, bokuto was rambling about something he thought was impossible and threw a look towards akaashi, “and i don’t want to hear a ‘well, actually’ from you, there’s no way i'm wrong. if we're building things on earth that means more stuff on it and so it's getting heavier.”
akaashi only smiled, looking at his fingers as he played with them, “yes, but everything we're making those buildings out of already existed on the earth prior to–”
bokuto groaned, hands in his hair as he bent over, “no way! you know too much akaashi, I don’t even know if that’s a good thing or not” 
you let out a small laugh at the exchange. you wanted to add something but your chest tightened with anxiety, fearing that it would reveal how you truly felt. however, it slipped from your mouth before you could stop it, “i actually like it, i think it’s really cool that you know so much, akaashi-san. i admire it.”
bokuto, still bent with his arms on his legs immediately turned his head towards you with sharp eyes and brows raised, a teasing smile on his face
akaashi, on the other hand, had turned slightly red, his lips stuck between wanting to smile and trying to play off the compliment as if it hadn’t made his heart stop for a second
you’re cheeks had also warmed, realizing that if bokuto immediately got it through his thick skull (with love ♡) there was no way akaashi hadn’t
since he’s quiet by nature, the sweetest thing for him is someone who will really listen to what he has to say and the fact that you found it interesting just topped it all off <3
bokuto
sweet talk everything you say it sounds like  sweet talk to my ears
looks like seeing each other in the halls and he brightens up, the world literally getting brighter as he sees you and he can’t stop the wide smile that spreads across his face <3
i think what he really needs is someone that matches his energy. you might be a little calmer than him due to the fact that you’re not jumping up and down but you’re just as happy, a smile wide on your face, eyes wide and you’re pushing through the crowd to get to him as well
if you are able to, you always come to his matches and it makes a difference in his playing <3
ofc before dating he was just as amazing as a player but now that he gets to see you while doing what he loves, there’s so much energy and happiness that wells up in him he ends up jumping higher and being more vocal
without a doubt he’s always looking up to you in the stands before every rally
it makes your heart stir, too, whenever he makes eye contact with you and you can’t help but smile and cheer with all the love in the world whenever you both meet eyes
whenever he’s home from a match, you bet that he’s heading to you as soon as possible if you allow him to
loves to collapse on you, strong arms wrapped around your waist and he rests his head on your stomach, body between your legs
will fall asleep so fast if you run your hands through his hair, loves it if you just comb through it from the front, pushing it back as they slide to the back of his head and then move back to the front to run through the strands again
even better if you talk to him as you love on him while he’s resting on you
hugs you tighter when you praise him, letting out a small sigh as he relaxes
“you did so well today, kou. ‘m so proud of you,” you hum.
“you mean it, baby?” he mumbles, face still buried into your shirt.
“i mean it. i would never miss any of your games if i can help it for the world, love.”
the last thing he can get out is an “i love you so much" before his eyes fall shut
oikawa
girl, if you want it there’s no good reason not to love if you want it
looks like keeping him company even when it’s three in the morning <3
he’ll hold you close or have you on his lap, arms wrapped around you when he’s up at night watching other team’s volleyball matches
loves to talk you through the plays as well if you have any questions
will take the time to pause the video and point out anything <3
“see what they did here? they purposely left an opening in the block for the libero to cover. it corners the spiker either way,” he spoke softly, a small smile on his face as he explains the tactic to you.
“i think i understand. you guys have done that before too, right?” you nod, eyes focused on the screen as you lean to the side, resting your head on his shoulder
he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you close to him, “we have, pretty. i didn’t think you paid so much attention.”
“of course i do!” you pouted, tilting your head to look slightly on him. 
he met your eyes with a teasing smile, “i’m only joking, princess. i see how hard you focus, you look super cute when you do, after all.”
you buried your face into his shoulder, too red to keep looking at him
you’re definitely a part of his squad (iwa, makki, matsu) even if you’re a grade below them
if you didn't already know them, he also definitely introduced you to the group as “his girl”
from then on out, you had four scary guard dogs should you ever need them <3
he’s glad to have someone so close to him that also gets along with his friends, so he’s happy as can be when you’re all hanging out
ofc also enjoys one on one time with u as seen above
after matches, you’re always loving on him, whether he won or lost
if he won, similar to bokuto, you’re praising him the whole way, pressing kisses to his forehead as he lays on you, completely content as he rests
if he lost, there’s no words exchanged between you two until he’s ready. it’s not that words will lead to anything bad, but you know what will help him. you know that for him, he’ll recover with time. after he’s thought about it, he’ll express all his feelings and emotions to you, so you only need to wait for him to be ready. in the meantime, you’ll love on him and make sure he takes care of himself. you’ll stay with him so that he knows he’s not alone and when he’s ready, you caress his face, softly wiping his eyes whenever they tear up and listen to anything he wants to say <3
iwaizumi
my baby here on earth showed me what my heart was worth so when it comes to be my turn could you shine it down here for her?
looks like giving you gifts everytime he sees you
probably actually started with you giving him gifts all the time first <3
def friends to lovers i can see it
when you started giving him gifts, it stirred something inside of him and his friends kept telling him that you definitely liked him back
he was still unsure tho bc we’re talking a man with a whole fan club and two other men who have nothing better to do but tease other people so how trustworthy is their advice really
but he wanted to be hopeful so he started getting you things too (credit to makki & matsu, best wingmen)
because your relationship with iwa was 100% friends to lovers, said wingmen + whatever oikawa is definitely supported you both and were trying to play cupid
makki and matsu helped iwa find out what you liked without making it obvious and since he was too nervous to ask you on his own
also tried to inconspicuously ask if you were interested in anyone in which you immediately turned red and hid your face
the two boys turned to each other with a smirk because they knew they were definitely right
they probably got you to plan a confession to iwa, swearing on their lives that iwa liked you back
(makki and co. also definitely found a way to listen to it all go down and probably even recorded it)
as soon as you guys start dating he’s all over you <3 probably beats you to buying something most of the time but you still try to buy him things as often as you can
i think he’d adore flowers from you <3 they’re some of the sweetest things you can get them
mad dog respects you as an extent of his respect of iwa
definitely lots of words of affirmation in your relationship too
after the spring high semifinals you were in his lap, letting him hide his face in the crook of your neck as his whole body shook
you rubbed the back of his head with one hand, the other placed on one of his arms which were wrapped around you,
“i just want you to know how proud i am of you, hajime. i could hear you everytime you brought up your team. you did so well. you taught them so much. you’re so observant, you’re so strong. i couldn’t be more proud of you, love.”
he tightened his hold on you, and you felt his tears on your neck. “i know. i know it hurts a lot, baby. i’m here for you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his head.
sugawara
she said i dressed in your favorite  i bought two bottles of red unless you made reservations oh look, you thought all ahead
looks like mothering his flock of children with him and taking care of him after he has taken care of the rest <3
lots of resting on each other’s shoulders throughout the day bc you both are so tired
whenever you guys are on dates, his favorite parts are always the train ride back home, he loves the gentle rocking of the train that lulls you both to sleep as you lay on each other, there’s just something so safe and intimate about it
ofc he loves doing things with you and you both try to spoil each other rotten, surprising each other with gifts and dates
some of your favorite dates to go on are just walks around outside
you guys take turns finding different locations to travel to just so that you guys can admire the beauty together
can u imagine? two pretty people walking around in pretty nature?? it’s too much <3
he loves walking in the winter at night because most of the time you guys will get to see pretty lights too!!
and if u get cold he gets to give u his jacket so two birds w/ one stone
if he’s feeling generous he’ll invite one of the children to walk with you guys while looking at christmas lights
it’s different every time
one night it was hinata, bundled warm in jackets and bouncing around between you and suga
another night it was kageyama, as calm and collected as ever but he enjoyed looking at the lights with you guys
you definitely bought him hot chocolate bc you couldn’t handle the parental love bubbling in your heart for the boy
(mama y papa?--)
but you both were def alone on christmas night when he took you out to walk in the middle of the city, where pretty lights shined at every angle and in every direction <3
he can’t help but kiss you a lot whenever he sees your pretty lips
and you love to kiss his little beauty mark below his eye <3
whenever he’s playing in games, you’re always cheering the loudest
afterwards you’re always flooding him with compliments too once you’re both home or through text message if he’s on the bus ride back
“u always notice so much during matches!! whenever u get in you always have something to tell everyone it’s so cool :000”
“and when you spiked, love, you did so good. we were all freaking out in the stands bc you had just been shut down before and you still went through with it completely!!!”
he'll smile at your energetic messages before replying with his own,
“thank u thank u <3 i can only do so well because i have my own personal cheerleader”
“I’ll see you soon, ok? we’re almost back to school, i love you so much, angel”
if his teammates hadn't drilled it into his head already how much he meant to them, your messages alone would make it worth it <3
kageyama
i wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind... can i get a kiss? and can you make it last forever?
looks like dates to the milk vending machine and walking together around school <3
he’s already waiting outside your class during breaks and when lunch starts
you step through the door and jump when you see him
“tobio? how are you already here? class just ended?”
“...do you wanna go to the vending machines with me?”
“did you leave early?”
he averts his eyes immediately, trying to think of an excuse but you just sigh to yourself and start to walk, “what am i going to do with you? let’s go before class starts.”
“i wanted to see you,” he mumbles, eyes lowered to the floor and his cheeks dusted pink as he follows after you
your eyes widen at the response and you almost trip over your feet before you smile and lean closer to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek
“i love you too, tobio.”
he’s another boy you’re constantly fighting with to pay for things
sometimes you’re racing to the machine because you’re so desperate to buy him something but there’s no way you’re winning against him even if he gives you a headstart
you work hard to take care of him, though, and you have your ways of getting back at him even if he ends up paying at the vending machine
he’s so horrible at taking care of himself, especially with the amount of times he stays late to practice with hinata
you started to sneak milk cartons and eventually meals into his bags so that he’ll at least be fed
definitely lots of study dates between you both as well, you’re singlehandedly carrying his grades rn
but it’s worth it when you see him on the court <3
he tends to look at you before every serve, and you can feel your heart buzz whenever he makes eye contact with you
seeing him work so hard in volleyball and have so much fun, you can’t help but fall in love with him all over again, and you’ll do anything you can to help him and make sure he can achieve his dreams <3
kuroo
you wanna go out, i wanna finish living you wanna get up, when i could just lay all day, with you
looks like showing up at your door whenever he feels like it either to take you out or to be at home with you <3
after the first time he insisted that he walk you home and you let him, he started visiting you more often
ofc you let him in everytime, you were glad he was the one making moves because you wanted to be around him more, you just didn’t know what to say
when you both started officially dating, you also obviously put in more effort to show that you appreciate him and love to be with him
but he’s always more than happy to be the one to come to you as long as he knows you enjoy it as much as he does
speaking of which he’d really do anything for you
if he’s not already there, you could ask him to at two in the morning and he’d be there as soon as he could <3
especially if you text him something like “i had a nightmare” or “i can’t sleep” he’s over there in a blink of an eye
“alright, princess. are we staying up or should i tire you out?”
🧍
😳
anyway
he’s making any excuse to be close to you
he’s probably helped you in a few subjects if you were struggling with the material
ofc in exchange for kisses <3
he’s surprised when you come to his games, i feel like he’s probably not used to having a lot of people come to cheer him on and he doesn’t want to bother you about having to come to gymnasiums to watch him
but you come of your own free will and it makes him smile, he’s more than ready to crush his opponents to show off for you <3
after games, you’re throwing yourself into his arms as soon as you get to him and he’ll catch you with just as much adrenaline and excitement running through his veins at the sight of you <3
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hheisa · 1 year ago
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I made a Spotify Playlist inspired on Anx!
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bradshawsbaby · 1 year ago
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Love in the Air
Pairing: Rooster x Female Reader
Summary: You weren't expecting anything interesting or exciting to happen on your flight from Virginia to San Diego. But what happens when you decide to shoot your shot with the handsome stranger sitting in front of you on the plane?
Word Count: 12.5k
Author’s Note: Thank you so much to my dear friend, @ryebecca for giving me the idea for this one! I've been mulling it over in my brain for a while now, and the super adorable Netflix movie Love at First Sight gave me some much-needed inspiration to finally see it through to completion. This story exists outside of the Mr. & Mrs. Bradshaw Universe, which is sort of a first for me, so I hope you all enjoy!
Warnings: Travel anxiety, some very mild angst, discussions of parental death, brief language, lots of fluff.
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If you had to rank your preferred modes of transportation, flying would probably be at the bottom of the list, beat only perhaps by public bus or bicycle. It seemed that no matter how hard you tried to make it as smooth and easy a journey as possible, your experiences at the airport always turned into one catastrophe after another.
Your flight this morning was supposed to take off at 9:30am, which meant that you had scheduled the start of your day to ensure that you would be at the airport no later than 7:15, accounting for traffic and long lines at check-in and security. That, of course, meant that you had to leave your best friend, Katie’s house in Fredericksburg at 5:45 on the dot in order to make the sixty-one mile trip to Charlottesville-Albemarle Airport, and that was being generous. If the two of you stopped for coffee—which Katie insisted was a must—that alone had the potential to derail your plans, which had you nervously fiddling with the bracelet you never took off, the one your dad had given you as a gift for your high school graduation.
“Relax,” Katie laughed, taking her eyes off the road for only a moment to reach out and squeeze your hands reassuringly, halting your anxious movements. “You’re going to get there with plenty of time to spare. There’s literally no one on earth who’s a more responsible flier than you. Have you ever even come close to missing a flight?”
“No,” you admitted sheepishly, taking a small sip of your hazelnut iced coffee. It did little to calm your nerves, but it was one of the best iced coffees you’d ever tasted.
“Of course you haven’t,” Katie smiled, her eyes back in front of her as she signaled to merge into another lane. “So just take a deep breath and enjoy all this gorgeous fall foliage. I’m going to get you there without incident, I promise.”
Katie knew better than pretty much anyone how much flying tended to stress you out. The two of you had been attached at the hip since the first day of kindergarten. Your friendship had survived all the ups and down of adolescence, boy drama, the separation of going to colleges hundreds of miles apart, heartache, loss, and so much more. She was truly the sister you never had, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have her in your life. Even now that you were living in San Diego, and Katie and her husband had moved to Fredericksburg, Virginia for Josh’s job, nothing could keep the two of you apart.
Using a little bit of the vacation time you’d accumulated at work, you’d taken a long weekend to fly out and surprise Katie for her and Josh’s housewarming party. It had been months since you had seen your best friend in person, and the two of you had spent the past few days acting like a couple of high schoolers, staying up all night eating junk food and keeping poor Josh awake with your loud and hysterical fits of laughter.
You hadn’t realized just how lonely you’d been, all by yourself in San Diego, until you’d witnessed up close how cozy and happy Katie’s life in Virginia was.
It wasn’t that you were jealous of Katie, not by any means. She and Josh had met in college, and you were thrilled that your best friend in the whole world had found her person, the one who was going to be there to hold her hand through life and love her through every up and every down. You had even shed a few happy tears when Katie had confided in you this past weekend that she and Josh were finally trying for a baby.
You weren’t jealous, but you desperately longed for what she had. While Katie and Josh had been happily in love since sophomore year, your love life had been decidedly marked by one failed relationship after another. The most painful of which had been your last boyfriend, Andrew. That breakup had been what had propelled you to accept the job offer that had taken you to San Diego almost a year ago.
“Screw Andrew!” Katie had told you as she’d helped you pack up your entire life into a few suitcases and boxes. “You’re headed to the Hottie Capital of America!”
“I must have missed that moniker on the travel brochures,” you responded dryly, although it was the first time you’d felt the urge to laugh in weeks.
“Um, hello, missy. It’s literally called ‘Fightertown USA,’” Katie said, stopping what she was doing to turn and face you, hands on her hips. “You’re going to end up with some sexy fighter pilot, and I am literally going to wither away with envy,” she giggled, winking at you.
“Yeah, right,” you smiled despite yourself, nudging her playfully.
“It’s true,” Katie sighed, feigning dramatics as she draped a hand across her forehead and swooned onto your bed. “I can see it now. You’re going to make the cutest little Marine or Navy wife.”
And yet, for all of Katie’s confidence, there you were, a whole year later, just as single as you had been when you’d first arrived in Fightertown.
It wasn’t to say you were completely on your own. You’d made some really good friends at work, and you got along with all of your neighbors. You’d even gone on a few dates with some guys from North Island. But none that ever went anywhere.
Spending the weekend with Katie and Josh, being reminded of just how in love the two of them were, made you wonder if it was ever going to be your turn.
“You okay?” Katie asked, breaking your silent reverie as she took the exit leading towards the airport in Charlottesville. It wasn’t necessarily the closest airport, but it was the only one for today that offered the flight you needed to get back home. “You seem so quiet.”
“Hm? Oh, yeah,” you nodded distractedly, smiling as you took another sip of your iced coffee. “Just a little tired, I guess.”
How could you possibly tell your best friend that seeing her happiness caused an ache inside your chest that hurt like nothing else you’d ever known? You couldn’t. It made you feel guilty enough just to admit it to yourself.
“Feeling a little nervous about your flight?” she pressed, reaching for her own iced coffee as the car came to a halt at a red light. “I know it’s long, and you hate connecting flights, but I stuck some Benadryl packets in your bag, if that helps at all. It sucks that you have such a hard time sleeping on planes.”
Smiling, you leaned over and pressed an affectionate kiss to her cheek. What had you ever done to deserve such a good friend? And there you were, lamenting about all the things she had that you didn’t.
“You’re the best,” you told her sincerely, giving her shoulder a small squeeze. “I’m so glad I was able to get down here this weekend.”
Katie beamed brightly, reaching up to squeeze your hand before placing hers back on the steering wheel. “You’re telling me. It was the best surprise ever. I’m just sad I can’t keep you here longer.”
“I’ll be back soon,” you promised, trying to mentally calculate when you might be able to get time off from work again.
“Maybe you can come down for Christmas this year?” Katie suggested hopefully, glancing over at you with her big green eyes.
“Maybe,” you nodded, twisting your bracelet once more as you saw the signs for the airport approaching. “Or maybe I can fly you and Josh out to San Diego.”
“Oh, yes! Christmas on the beach? Sounds perfect,” Katie grinned, looking out for the sign for departing flights.
All too soon, Katie was pulling up in front of the Delta terminal where your flight would be taking off in just a few hours.
“See? Only 7:11! I got you here ahead of your insane schedule, even with the stop for coffee,” your best friend teased, a twinkle in her eye as she indicated the time on the dashboard.
“Yeah, yeah,” you waved her off, laughing out loud as she swatted your hand jokingly.
The two of you climbed out of the car to grab your luggage from the trunk. You’d done your best to pack lightly, which was never an easy task for you, even just for a weekend trip. But somehow, you’d managed to squeeze everything you needed into a carry-on bag. Well, that and a giant duffel that you were claiming was a purse.
“Ugh, goodbyes make me crazy,” Katie shook her head, clearly trying to hide the tears that were brimming in her eyes, which caused tears to spring to your eyes as the two of you reached for each other.
“I love you so much,” you told her, squeezing her tightly as she rocked you back and forth in her arms. “I’ll call you when I land.”
“Text me when you get to your gate,” she said, pulling back and taking your hands in hers. “And let me know if there are any cuties on your flight,” she added with a grin, waggling her eyebrows suggestively.
“I doubt I’m going to bag any cuties looking like this,” you countered sarcastically, indicating the yoga pants and oversized sweatshirt you’d donned that morning, as well as the messy bun you’d thrown your hair into.
“Shut up, you’re gorgeous no matter what,” Katie scolded you, swatting you on the butt. “Now get going. We wouldn’t want you being late or anything like that,” she joked.
You laughed as well, though your heart ached a bit as you grabbed the handle of your suitcase and began turning towards the doors of the terminal.
“Love you! Talk to you soon!” Katie called out, waving and blowing kisses.
You threw one more wave your best friend’s way, then disappeared inside the terminal, which was already fairly crowded despite the early hour.
As expected, despite the fact that you’d taken pains to get there early and make sure you were on top of everything, the unlucky cloud that seemed to follow you whenever you flew made its appearance once again.
You of course ended up on the slowest moving line at security, only to be heavily questioned by the TSA agent who seemed to be under the impression that you looked nothing like the photo on your driver’s license. Then, when you finally got to the security scanners, you set off the metal detector and had to be publicly groped by another sour-faced TSA agent. As if that wasn’t bad enough, your suitcase was “randomly selected” for extra testing and security checks.
Katie may have loved to tease you about it, but this was precisely the reason why you always left as early as you did to get to the airport.
By the time you were finally rolling your suitcase towards your gate, you were feeling more frazzled than ever. Naturally, the gate had changed since your boarding pass had been printed, and now you had to trek halfway across the airport to find the new one.
You wondered what it felt like to be one of those lucky travelers whose gate was right at the center of the terminal, right near all the restaurants and shops. It had never been you. Without fail, no matter where or when you were flying, your gate always ended up being at the farthest corner of the terminal.
When you finally arrived, triple checking that the gate number matched your flight information, you let out a heavy sigh as you grabbed an open seat at the end of the row. To your surprise, you found that you were seated right next to an open outlet. You never got that lucky.
Turns out, you really did never get that lucky. When you plugged your phone in, you found that it wasn’t charging. Evidently, the outlet was open because it didn’t actually work.
Muttering under your breath, you unplugged your charger and threw it back into your duffel bag. At least your phone was still on 74%. You’d much prefer to have it fully charged, but this would do until you could charge it on the plane.
Glancing down, you realized that you had missed a text from Katie.
At the gate yet???
Rolling your shoulders back and getting more comfortable in your seat, you opened up the message so that you could send a quick response.
Just got here. You’d think I was on the No Fly List with how long it took me to get here.
Katie must have made good time getting home, because it wasn’t long before your phone was buzzing with another text.
😂😂😂 Get yourself a drink!
Katie, it’s not even 9am…
So? A mimosa then!
You laughed, shaking your head. A mimosa didn’t actually sound like such a bad idea right now. Neither did a large iced coffee. But now that you’d finally made it to your gate, you didn’t feel like dragging all your stuff with you across the terminal once again. And you didn’t feel comfortable leaving your things behind, unattended or even in the care of a stranger. Maybe you’d just order one on the plane.
When your phone buzzed again in your lap, you looked down and saw that it was another text from Katie.
Any cuties to share that mimosa with???
You were about to text her back that right now, the only cuties you could see were an adorable four-year-old and an elderly couple who must have been in their eighties when suddenly, the most gorgeous man you had ever seen in your life appeared, as if out of thin air. You were suddenly glad you didn’t have a mimosa or an iced coffee in hand, for you were certain that you would have spit it out in shock upon seeing this guy.
Jaw hanging open and eyes widening, your brain was too fuzzy from lack of sleep to remind you that it was wholly inappropriate and rude to stare.
He truly had to be the hottest man you had ever seen up close in real life. Tall, with broad, thick shoulders and a muscular build. His hair was a golden brown that looked like it was touched frequently by the sun—as did his skin, which was an amusing combination of both tan and pink, as though he should have applied just a pinch more sunscreen than he had. Most surprising of all was the mustache that made your stomach do a strange little flip. You usually weren’t all that attracted to facial hair of any sort, and most guys couldn’t pull off the mustaches they tried to sport, but this particular mustache was the sexiest thing you had ever seen. And somehow, despite not knowing this man from a hole in the wall, you couldn’t imagine him without it. It was like it was a part of his DNA.
Thankfully, he was still staring down at his boarding pass, so he hadn’t noticed your intense scrutiny. Coming to your senses, you closed your mouth and quickly averted your gaze, your cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. How mortifying. Imagine if he had looked over and caught you staring at him, gaping like a fish out of water?
Still, despite your self-consciousness at the thought of getting caught, you couldn’t help but steal another glance in his direction, this time out of the corner of your eye. He looked even taller this time around. It probably had something to do with the way he carried himself, an easy confidence pouring off him. This man knew he was hot stuff, of that you were sure. But there was also something unassuming about him, something quiet and almost humble. He was dressed in a pair of dark sweatpants and an old UVA T-shirt, nothing fancy or flashy. Somehow, however, he managed to pull it off even better than a three-piece suit.
You were startled out of your observations when your phone buzzed again. It was Katie, emphasizing her last message impatiently.
Do you have some kind of magic powers that I was unaware of to make hotties appear out of nowhere? Right when you texted me, the hottest guy I’ve ever seen walked up to my gate.
‼️‼️ GO TALK TO HIM!!! ‼️‼️
At the mere suggestion of going to talk to that guy, your stomach erupted into butterflies. Looking up once again, you saw that he had evidently confirmed he was at the right gate, and had settled down in a seat a couple rows over, facing away from you. God, even the back of his head was handsome.
Are you crazy? This guy is seriously the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. I look like a homeless lady that wandered in off the street. I am NOT talking to him!
Your phone buzzed angrily a moment later.
Will you shut up before I drive back there to hit you upside the head?! YOU are gorgeous!!! Who cares if you have no make-up on and your hair’s in a messy bun? It’s called airplane chic! You’re still completely stunning. He would be LUCKY to have a girl as hot as you want to talk to him!
Chewing your bottom lip, you looked up again, trying not to be obvious as your eyes slowly wandered over the people at your gate, until they landed on him once more. He was on the phone this time, having an animated conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line. Occasionally, he would turn slightly in your direction and you could catch a glimpse of his side profile.
Damn, this man was seriously perfect from every angle.
“Alright, Mav, I’ll see you when I land,” you heard him say—not that you were trying to eavesdrop—before he hung up the phone and dropped it back onto his lap.
It was then that you noticed his phone was plugged into the outlet next to his seat.
Maybe this could be your opportunity? You could casually walk over and see if there were any other open outlets near his. Perhaps you could even make a joke about how it was just your luck that the outlet near your seat wasn’t working. Maybe he’d laugh and tell you some horror story from his travel experiences and the two of you would end up talking until you exchanged numbers. Maybe there was some tiny, infinitesimal chance that this stunning man would actually be charmed by you and possibly even the teensiest bit interested.
Or maybe you would just remain rooted to your seat, terrified to move as you stared at the back of his head.
You were already anticipating the text from Katie when your phone buzzed once again.
The reason you’re not answering me better be because you’re in the middle of a conversation with Mr. Hottie from your gate!!!
Biting down on your lip, you turned your phone over, not knowing how to tell your best friend that you were too much of a chicken to get out of your seat and approach this guy.
At that moment, however, you were suddenly saved, at least somewhat, when a member of the flight crew announced that they were about to begin boarding. Forgetting about Katie’s texts and the hot guy sitting several feet away from you for a moment, you began gathering together all your belongings, making sure you hadn’t forgotten anything.
When your boarding group was called, you did one final sweep around your seat, securing the strap of your duffel bag up on your shoulder and wrapping one hand around the handle of your carry-on before making your way to the line extending from the counter.
As you stepped up behind the elderly couple you’d noticed earlier, your boarding pass slipped out of your hand, floating through the air despite your best attempt to reach for it, and landing somewhere behind you.
Turning to find it, you nearly collided with the tall wall of man behind you, who was bending at the same time to grab it off the floor.
“Oh!” you gasped, startled to find that Mr. Hottie, as Katie had dubbed him, was not only standing behind you in line, but was also holding your boarding pass in his hand, glancing down at it.
“San Diego with a layover in Atlanta, huh?” he grinned, glancing from the boarding pass up to your face. Unsurprisingly, he had a beautiful set of whiskey-colored eyes that made your stomach do the same strange little flip that his mustache had induced. Oh, and up close, the mustache was even sexier.
“Oh, um, yeah,” you nodded dumbly, your tongue suddenly feeling like it weighed a thousand pounds as your brain short-circuited and couldn’t come up with a single worthwhile thing to say.
“Glad to know I’m not the only one,” Mr. Hottie went on, holding your boarding pass out to you. “Looks like we’ve got a long day of flying ahead of us.”
Mouth hanging open, you slowly reached out and took the boarding pass from him, trying frantically to think of something—anything—to say. He was flying to San Diego, too? You were on the same exact flight? Including the same layover?
“I—I—”
“Hey, the line's moving!” someone from the back called out, sounding annoyed.
Turning back over your shoulder, you were mortified to see that the elderly couple in front of you had disappeared and you were, in fact, holding up the line.
“Oh, um, I’m sorry,” you mumbled, ducking your head as you clutched your boarding pass and reached out for your carry-on. “Thanks again for grabbing this for me,” you told Mr. Hottie, waving your boarding pass slightly before turning and practically running towards the counter.
With his long stride, he caught up to you in no time, his smile friendly and warm as the two of you joined the line of people waiting to board the airplane.
“You weren’t holding anyone up,” he whispered down to you, as if it was some special secret the two of you were sharing. “I don’t know what that guy was in such a rush for. To move from that line to this one? We’re all getting out of here at the same time.”
You smiled at his words, feeling comforted by his reassurance. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Some people are just always in a hurry.”
The two of you were quiet after that, and you wondered if that would be the end of the conversation. You were casting around for anything else you could talk about when he suddenly asked you, “So are you leaving home or heading home?”
Your heart fluttered at his question. If he didn’t want to keep talking, he wouldn’t have asked that, right?
“Heading home,” you told him, fiddling shyly with your bracelet. You laughed softly. “It’s still kind of weird saying that. I’ve only been in San Diego for about eleven months.”
He raised his eyebrow, one corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Yeah? Well, I know I’m a little late, but welcome to Fightertown. I hope it’s been treating you well.”
“Oh, it has been,” you nodded, making sure to pay attention to when the people in front of you began moving forward. “I take it you’re heading home then, too?”
“I am,” he grinned, shouldering the backpack he was carrying with him. “Well, actually, I’m kind of leaving home and heading home,” he amended. At your curious look, he explained, “I’m from Virginia originally, but I live in San Diego now. I guess you could say I’m a transplant, just like you,” he added with a chuckle. “Are you from Virginia, too?”
“New York, actually,” you told him, as the two of you followed the flow of people towards the plane. “But my best friend and her husband moved to Fredericksburg recently, so I was spending the weekend with them.”
“Ah, that’s a nice area,” he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck as he glanced down at you with a smile. At your unspoken question, he said, “I was actually down for a reunion weekend at my school. I went to UVA.”
“I gathered,” you replied teasingly, indicating his T-shirt.
Glancing downward, he shook his head and laughed. “Almost forgot I threw this on when I woke up. Trying to get to the airport on time is a real pain, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely,” you agreed with a laugh, adjusting your hold on your duffel bag. “Flying is definitely one of my least favorite modes of transportation.”
“Hmm, I don’t know if I’d say that,” he said in reply, an amused look on his face.
Before you could ask him what was so funny, however, you were being welcomed aboard the plane by the stewardesses, who were all smiling and indicating that they expected you to keep moving down the aisle.
Your heart dropped slightly at the abrupt end to your conversation. Now the two of you were going to go to your separate seats, and he’d probably forget all about you. It was one thing to make idle conversation with a stranger while on line, but you doubted he had any real interest in continuing the conversation beyond that.
Sighing softly, you rolled your suitcase down the aisle, pausing every now and then as the people in front of you put their bags in the overhead bins and got themselves sorted. When you finally reached Row 22, you stopped and looked back at Mr. Hottie with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, this is me. I’ll just be a minute,” you told him, pushing down the handle of your carry-on.
“No worries, this is me,” he grinned, indicating Row 21. “I even snagged the window seat,” he added with a wink.
Your mouth went dry. He had the window seat of Row 21. You had the window seat of Row 22. He was sitting directly in front of you.
“Here, let me help you with that,” he said, reaching for your carry-on bag and easily hefting it above his head, sliding it into the overhead bin for you. “Do you need me to put this one up there, too?” he asked, pointing towards your duffel bag.
“Oh, no, it’s okay,” you shook your head, holding onto the strap of your bag. “I’m going to keep this one with me. Thanks a lot,” you smiled, not even noticing the line of disgruntled people that was beginning to form behind the two of you.
“No problem,” he smiled, starting to slide into his row with his backpack still on his back. “Have a great flight.”
“You, too,” you replied, a little sadly, as you crawled into your row, doing your best to ignore the annoyed looks some people were throwing your way.
Needless to say, it was just your luck that the impatient man from the boarding line ended up sitting right beside you. You tried to smile at him, but he just grunted and put his headphones on, completely ignoring you.
Fine by you. Pulling your phone out, you found that you had a whole new series of texts from Katie, demanding to know exactly what was happening.
On the plane now. We should be taking off soon. I talked a little bit to Mr. Hottie. Are you happy?
It didn’t take long at all for her to respond. You could imagine that she had been sitting by her phone, waiting eagerly for your message.
Eeeee, yes, very! What did you guys talk about? Are you sitting near each other on the plane? Did you exchange numbers??? Send me a picture!!!
You laughed softly to yourself as you tried your best to answer all the questions your excited friend had asked you.
Just small talk. He’s actually flying home to San Diego, too. He went to UVA and was there for a reunion weekend. We did not exchange numbers and I’m not going to be a creepy stalker and take a picture of him, but he actually is sitting in the seat right in front of me.
OMG, IT’S FATE!!! So he has the same layover and everything??? And he’s FROM San Diego?! Babe, this is the guy for you!!! You’ve got to keep talking to him!
How would you suggest I do that? Just tap him on the shoulder and whisper into his ear the whole time?
It’s only a couple hours to Atlanta, and then you’ll have the layover, and then another four and half hours to San Diego. You could practically be engaged by the time you land! Just slip him a little note or something. Give him your number!
Your stomach was doing somersaults at the mere thought. Between the two of you, Katie had always been the more outgoing one. She would have no problem slipping a note with her phone number on it to a complete stranger, putting herself out there for the possibility of rejection and utter humiliation. You, on the other hand, preferred to play it safe. It was much more comfortable that way. And sure, maybe you’d never met your Josh the way Katie had, but at least you’d never been hurt too badly, right?
Unbidden, you thought of Andrew and felt bile rise in your throat.
Luckily, you were saved from having to answer Katie right away when the cabin crew made the announcement that it was time to shut down all electronics. Switching your phone onto airplane mode, you slipped it into the front pocket of your duffel bag and took a deep breath, buckling your seatbelt and closing your eyes.
Takeoff was your least favorite part of any flight. When you were a little girl, your parents used to make funny faces and sing silly songs to distract you from your terror. Even now as an adult who was flying all on her own, you still tried to remember the sound of their voices as the plane began its ascent.
It didn’t take too long before you were finally cruising at 18,000 feet and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign. Since you were a Delta SkyMiles member, you got free Wi-Fi on all your flights, so you immediately reached to turn your phone back on to let Katie know you had taken off safely.
As soon as your phone connected with the Wi-Fi, it was instantly flooded with a slew of text messages. A couple were from some of your friends back in San Diego, wishing you a safe and easy flight, but most were from your crazy best friend.
Don’t think you can use being on a plane as an excuse not to answer my texts!
I know you’re a SkyMiles member and you can see these messages!
You better answer me!!!
Shaking your head, you quickly tapped out a quick message in response.
Took off safely. Thinking of watching a movie before we land in Atlanta. You’re crazy and I am not slipping him a note.
Your phone was blessedly quiet for the next several minutes, and part of you hoped that Katie had given up this ridiculous notion. Knowing her as long as you had, however, you should have figured that wouldn’t be the case.
What’s the worst that could happen? He doesn’t answer you? The two of you never talk again? You’ve never seen this guy before in your life, and the chances are good that you’ll never see him again after this. So if you put yourself out there and it doesn’t work out, who cares? At least you tried. And sure, it might be a little embarrassing at first, but like I said, you’ll never have to see him again. But what if you thought about it the other way around? What if it DOES work out? What if this could be the start of something great? Would you really just want to walk away, wondering what could have been and regretting that you didn’t take a chance? You deserve to be loved so, so, SO much! And I know that you have so much love to give! This guy would be lucky if you chose him. Just give it a try, will you? For me? Please! You can’t see it, but I’m giving my best puppy dog face right now. And sending you all the best vibes! You can do this! I love you! ♥️
You groaned at your best friend’s heartfelt message. How could you possibly say no to that? You knew Katie just wanted the best for you, and she wanted you to be happy. You wanted to be happy, too. What if she was right? What if this was your chance? Would you be a fool to just walk away from it without even trying? Like Katie said, at least if you tried, you could say you’d done all you could. And if it didn’t work, then Mr. Hottie just wasn’t the one for you. No harm, no foul.
You were starting to feel like you might need to make use of the vomit bag tucked securely in the seat pocket in front of you when the stewardess stopped at your row to offer you all snacks and beverages. You gratefully accepted a can of ginger ale and a packet of pretzels, nibbling on them slowly in an attempt to settle your roiling stomach.
You were being an idiot. There was no reason to be so dramatic about all this. You could write a quick note and pass it up to him, then pretend it had never happened. Seriously, what was the worst that was going to happen? He was going to get up and make an announcement over the loudspeaker that the girl sitting in 22A was a pathetic, lonely loser? You doubted that very much.
Before you could lose your nerve, you reached into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulled out the pen you always kept there. Turns out, it really did come in handy. Mercifully, the grumpy man beside you was already snoring, so you could write your note in peace without being worried about him seeing what you were doing.
Hand shaking slightly, you penned a quick letter to the handsome, charming man in 21A.
Hi there. I realized in all our talking that I never caught your name. But it might be good to know, seeing how we’re layover buddies and all. Hope you’re enjoying the flight so far.
You signed your name at the bottom, and then took a deep breath, reading over what you had written on the back of your Delta napkin. It sounded impossibly stupid, but you’d come this far and you weren’t going to turn back now. What was it that people on the internet were always saying? Something about shooting your shot?
Breathing through your nose to avoid getting sick, you reached out a trembling finger and lightly tapped the broad shoulder that you saw peeking out from the seat in front of you. You suddenly realized that he may have been asleep and panicked at the thought of waking him up, but he shifted immediately at your touch and you could tell that he was turning towards you.
Not wanting to meet his eye, you immediately thrust your napkin into the small open space between your seats and the windows, silently praying that he would take it from you instead of laughing in your face.
A second later, you felt his large fingers brush against yours as he took your little note, shifting in his seat once more so that he was facing front again.
What had you just done? Oh, God, there was still another hour left to go on this flight, then a layover, and another four and half hours to San Diego. True, you would never have to see him again after you landed in California, but that was still a lot of time left to have to be in proximity to him if all of this blew up in your face.
You were just about ready to launch yourself out of one of the emergency exits when you suddenly looked up and realized that there was a small white napkin hovering above your head.
Mr. Hottie in 21A was reaching back with your note in hand. Your stomach plummeted and your face and neck grew warm with shame at the thought of him returning the letter you’d written him, until you noticed the red ink on the back of it. 
You’d written your note in black ink.
Slowly reaching out, you took the napkin from his hand, your fingers brushing against each other once more. His were large and warm and calloused and made goosebumps rise on your arm.
Pulse beating rapidly, you turned over the napkin to see the response he had written on the back. His handwriting was a bit messy, more of a scrawl than anything, but it made you smile to look at it.
What was I thinking, not properly introducing myself to my layover buddy? Hope you can forgive me. My name is Bradley. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’ve got some Wi-Fi on this flight, do you? If you do, feel free to text me. We seem to be dangerously low on napkins.
At the bottom, he’d written his cell phone number.
Pressing a hand over your mouth, it took everything in you to swallow back the squeal of delight that rose up your throat. It worked! Katie’s silly plan had actually worked! Oh, she was going to gloat about this forever when you told her.
Beaming brightly, you pulled out your cell phone. As much as you loved her, Katie could wait right now. You had an extremely gorgeous layover buddy to get in touch with.
Typing his number into your cell phone, you opened up a new message and contemplated what to say for a moment.
Layover buddies who both just so happen to have some inflight Wi-Fi? Clearly it’s meant to be.
You hoped the message came across as cute and flirty instead of desperate and weird as you hit send, anxiously waiting to see if he would reply.
It took only a moment before your phone buzzed, Bradley’s name lighting up your screen.
Layover buddies who both just so happen have some inflight Wi-Fi AND spring for the window seats? Obviously it’s meant to be!
You smiled and were about to think up a reply when another message suddenly came though.
Oh, and to answer your note—I’m enjoying the flight a lot more now.
The butterflies went crazy in your stomach as you wrote back to him.
Me, too. And that’s saying a lot, considering the four-year-old behind me hasn’t stopped kicking my seat since we boarded.
Bradley only took seconds to reply.
Oof, that’s rough. If I could switch seats with you, I would. But I have to admit that I’m very happy that you’re not kicking my seat.
Wouldn’t be too sure about that, you sent back teasingly before lightly nudging his seat with your foot.
Hey! I thought we were friends!
We’ll see 😉
You and Bradley went back and forth like that for the entire remainder of your flight to Atlanta, the banter light and easy as you teased and joked with each other. You even ended up playing a game of 20 Questions, in which you learned, among other things, that Bradley’s favorite color was red, he once broke his arm when he was seven years old, and he absolutely despised peas.
As the captain announced that you would soon begin preparing for your final descent, you shot off a quick message to Katie, who you had woefully neglected during your conversation with Bradley.
I owe you one. The pep talk and the plan actually worked—I’m texting Mr. Hottie as we speak! Update you soon. We’re about to land in Atlanta.
Just as you sent the message off to your friend, another text from Bradley arrived.
Looks like we’re going to have to turn off our phones, layover buddy. I’ll see you when we land. Food? I’m starving.
Grinning, you had to pinch yourself to check that this wasn’t some sort of elaborate dream.
Same. I’ll race you for some french fries.
You’re on.
When the plane finally landed and the captain turned off the seatbelt sign, everyone practically jumped out of their seats in a mad dash to see who could be the first to get their belongings out of the overhead bins. Since you and Bradley were in the window seats, you took your time, knowing you weren’t getting off the plane anytime soon.
You were surprised, however, when he suddenly popped his head over the back of his seat, grinning down at you. “Good thing our next flight doesn’t leave for a couple hours yet,” he said, indicating the crowd with a good-natured grin that made your heart melt.
You had almost been starting to think you’d exaggerated just how good-looking he was, but nope. He really was that hot.
“Plenty of time to grab those fries,” you laughed, smiling up at him.
When you and Bradley were finally able to step out into the aisle, he opened the bin above your head and reached for your suitcase.
“Let me take care of this for you,” he said, lowering it to the ground and lifting the handle so that he could wheel it up the aisle.
“Oh, you don’t have to,” you insisted, not wanting him to think that you expected him to carry your things for you.
“Hey, what are layover buddies for?” he winked, leading the way off the plane.
Once the two of you were standing face to face in the middle of the airport terminal, you began to feel a little shy and self-conscious again. It had been easy to talk to Bradley via text, but now that you were gazing up at his handsome face again, you suddenly found yourself getting just as tongue-tied as before.
Bradley seemed to sense your nerves because he smiled warmly at you, his demeanor just as open and friendly as it had been the entire time you’d known him.
“How about we hunt down those fries?” he suggested, waiting until you smiled and nodded before turning and guiding you towards the main concourse.
The two of you ended up finding a quick and easy little fast food counter, where you ordered a couple burgers, a large order of fries, and some vanilla milkshakes with whipped cream and cherries. As soon as it became clear that Bradley was going to pay for both your meals, you tried to argue and insist on paying your share, but he wouldn’t hear it.
“My mom raised a gentleman, and she would kill me if she thought I was even thinking of letting my layover buddy pay for her lunch,” he told you, winking playfully as he handed his credit card to the employee behind the counter.
You took your suitcase from Bradley as he balanced the tray with your food in his hands, leading you to an empty table towards the end of the concourse.
“Your mom must be very proud of you, I’m sure,” you grinned, reaching eagerly for a fry and popping it into your mouth. “Did you get to see her while you were in Virginia?”
Bradley smiled, though his eyes suddenly looked a little sad. “Yeah. Yeah, you could say that.”
Deciding not to press the matter, you instead turned the attention to his college reunion. That led to the two of you happily swapping stories about your time in college, which landed you on the subject of what you do now.
“A naval aviator? Really? And a TOPGUN graduate? That’s very impressive,” you gushed, mentally picturing him in a flight suit. You’d gone on a couple dates with some naval aviators from North Island, but none as handsome or as charming as Bradley. You suddenly groaned and covered your face with your hand when you remembered what you’d said to him right before boarding the plane. “So that’s what you meant when I was saying that flying isn’t my favorite mode of transportation,” you murmured, feeling a little embarrassed.
Bradley threw his head back and laughed at that, looking genuinely amused. “Hey, I get it. Flying isn’t for everybody. Trust me, some days I wish I had just opted for a desk job,” he grinned, his muscles flexing as he stretched in his seat. “But there’s nothing quite like it, when you’re the one doing the flying. Maybe one day I can take you up in the air and change your mind.”
He looked across the table at you and held your gaze, and you felt sure in that moment that you would have promised him anything he asked.
“So what’s your call sign then?” you asked with a smile, resting your cheek in your hand as you looked into his eyes.
“Oh, you know about that, huh?” he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning pink. “Well, uh, they call me Rooster.”
You had a feeling he expected you to laugh—maybe other girls in the past had—but you just grinned brightly in response. “I like it,” you said simply. “It suits you.”
He let out a small breath and smiled in return. “Thank you. My dad’s call sign was Goose. So I guess it runs in the family.”
“Your dad is in the Navy, too?” you asked curiously, lifting your milkshake and taking a sip.
Bradley cleared his throat slightly, looking down at his lap. “He was. He died in a training accident at TOPGUN when I was two.”
You sucked in a breath at your own carelessness and looked across at Bradley with empathy glowing in your eyes. “Oh, Bradley,” you murmured softly, reaching out and resting a hand over his. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he replied gently, a small smile on his face as he placed his other hand over yours. “But thank you.” He was quiet for a moment before he went on. “It was just me and my mom for a while, back home in Virginia. But she got sick when I was in high school, and she passed away my senior year.”
“Bradley,” you breathed out sadly, your heart breaking for him. You winced when you thought of what he’d said before, about seeing his mom while he was in Virginia.
“She and my dad are buried in my hometown, where I grew up. I go to see them at the cemetery whenever I’m back in town,” he explained, as if reading your thoughts.
“I’m sure that means a lot to them, and that they’re smiling down on you always,” you told him sincerely, squeezing his hand lightly.
He smiled up at you, the sadness in his expression lifting slightly. “I like to think so. I think they’d like you a lot,” he added, then looked away. He suddenly seemed embarrassed.
The two of you sat back, disentangling your hands as you sat in mildly awkward silence for a moment or two.
“What about your parents?” Bradley asked, clearly looking for a way to change the subject. “Do they still live in New York?”
It was your turn to look sad now. “Well, we actually have a lot in common, Bradley. Only I guess my story is sort of in reverse. My mom passed away when I was six years old. She got in a car accident on her way home from work. And my dad passed when I was a freshman in college. Lung cancer.”
“Shit,” Bradley muttered, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” you cut him off, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. “You couldn’t have known. And it feels kind of nice talking about it with someone who I know understands. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah,” Bradley nodded, his expression serious as his dark eyes rested on your face. “Yeah, I do.”
You and Bradley sat in companionable silence as you finished your meals, then checked to see how much time you had before your connecting flight.
“I guess we should start making our way over to the gate,” you suggested, glancing at the time on your phone. You had about ten text messages from Katie, but you were too embarrassed to open them anywhere near Bradley.
Bradley nodded in agreement, wordlessly taking the handle of your suitcase and leading you back across the concourse.
“Hey, we got so distracted talking about my job that I never even asked what you do,” he suddenly realized once the two of you were seated at your gate, both your phones charging in a nearby outlet.
“Oh, yeah,” you smiled, brushing a loose strand of hair that had escaped your bun behind your ear. “Funny enough, I actually work for the Midway Museum,” you told him, glancing up at him, only to find that he was already gazing down at you.
“No way! Guess we’re both stuck aboard aircraft carriers for work then,” he chuckled. “What do you do?”
“Well, my official title is digital content specialist,” you said, biting down on your lower lip. You felt like it always sounded a bit pretentious. “Basically, I help run the museum’s digital accounts—social media, their website, email blasts, things like that. My degree is in marketing and communications, so that’s basically what I do.”
“That’s amazing,” Bradley said, and you could tell that he genuinely meant it. Some guys just pretended to be interested in your job as a pretense for trying to get into your pants, but you could tell that Bradley actually cared about what you had to say. He was actually listening. “Is that what brought you out to San Diego?”
“It is, actually. I had been applying to a few different places, and when I got word from the Midway that they were interested in hiring me, I thought that maybe it was the fresh start I needed,” you confessed.
“Has it been?” Bradley asked quietly.
“I think so,” you nodded slowly, absent-mindedly twisting your bracelet around your wrist. “It’s hard sometimes, being so far away from my best friend, Katie—the one I was visiting. She’s pretty much the only family I’ve got left. But I like the life that I’m building in San Diego.”
“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it,” Bradley smiled, his hand lightly brushing against yours as he shifted in his seat. He looked like he was about to say more when the flight crew called your boarding group.
“Looks like we’re going to be sitting near each other again, 21A,” you teased, glancing down at his boarding pass as the two of you rose and grabbed your phones.
“Glad to hear it, 22A,” he joked in return, holding up his phone and waving it back and forth. “And now my phone is fully charged for our trip back to San Diego, so let the texting commence.”
Giggling, you nodded as the two of you walked down the rampway side by side and made your way onto the plane and to your seats without incident. When you got there, however, you saw that there had been some confusion with a young family that looked to have four children under the age of eight. It seemed as though their tickets had gotten split up so that they weren’t all sitting next to each other, and the mother was frantic.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” Bradley asked, quickly taking stock of the situation. When the woman looked up at him, clearly stressed out and worried he was going to yell at her, he smiled comfortingly. “I was just going to say that, if you’d like, you can have my seat. I’d be happy to take yours since it looks like it’s next to my friend here anyway. That way, we can all be comfortable and sit with the people we want to sit with.”
“Oh, thank you!” the young mother exclaimed, looking ready to hug Bradley. “Thank you!”
She and her husband quickly got their children settled, thanking Bradley a few more times for good measure, while he took your carry-on and set it in the overhead bin.
Once you had settled in your window seat, Bradley took the seat beside you, grinning impishly.
“Look at that. Now we don’t even need to waste the Wi-Fi,” he murmured, nudging you playfully.
“Things just have a way of working out for us today, don’t they?” you laughed, settling your duffel bag at your feet. “I’m just going to send a quick message to Katie, to let her know I made it onto my connecting flight,” you told him, reaching for your phone and quickly opening Katie’s messages so that Bradley wouldn’t see them.
“Good idea, I should text Mav,” Bradley said, grabbing his phone out of his pocket. At your confused look, he explained, “My godfather. He’s also in the Navy, and he also just so happens to be stationed out in San Diego. He’s going to pick me up at the airport.”
Nodding, you sent a brief text to your best friend, promising you would call her as soon as you got home, then settled in for the flight and tried to get as comfortable as possible.
As soon as you felt the plane jolt to life and begin taxing towards the runway, your chest grew tight and your grip on yours and Bradley’s shared armrest started to turn your knuckles white.
“Hey,” Bradley said softly, genuine concern in his voice as he glanced over and noticed how on edge you suddenly appeared. “You alright?”
“I’m fine,” you lied, keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead on the screen in front of you, which was currently playing some Delta commercial that your brain could scarcely register.
“I think your death grip on our armrest would suggest otherwise,” he pressed gently, his tone remaining light and good-humored. “You trying to take that thing with you?”
Startled, your nervous trance was broken and you glanced down to see what Bradley was talking about. Sure enough, your nails were digging into the armrest so intensely that you wouldn’t have been surprised if they left little crescent-shaped marks in their wake.
Letting out a shaky laugh, you looked up at the man beside you ruefully. “Okay, truth be told, I get a little anxious during takeoff,” you confessed, biting your lip in embarrassment. He would probably think that was silly. He was a fighter pilot, after all. His day job involved flying multi-million dollar aircrafts for the military. And here you were, acting like a scaredy cat over a commercial Delta flight.
Bradley’s eyes crinkled in a way that you found devastatingly charming as he smiled over at you. The look on his face was kind, without a single trace of mocking humor.
“Want to know a secret?” he whispered, leaning in closer to you so that his nose was nearly pressed against your cheek and you could feel his breath on your skin. “So do I.”
“You’re kidding,” you scoffed, shooting him a skeptical look. He was probably just trying to be nice. “But you’re a naval aviator!”
“Yeah, but I’m not the one flying this plane, am I?” he retorted with a lopsided grin. “It’s hard to put the reins in someone else’s hands. So I understand being nervous. Hell, I still get a little nervous sometimes when I’m flying an F-18. Just don’t tell anyone I said that,” he added, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
“Oh, of course not,” you giggled, smiling over at him. Glancing out the window, you realized that his conversation had distracted you so much, you hadn’t even noticed that the plane had finished its approach towards the runway and was officially waiting for takeoff.
Some of your nerves returned, and you gripped the armrest once more, but this time, you felt Bradley’s large, yet gentle fingers close over yours. Surprised, you turned your head sharply and instantly met his gaze. It was direct and disconcertingly open as he looked deeply into your eyes.
“It’s okay,” he assured you in a low voice, squeezing your fingers comfortingly. “We’re going to be okay.”
“My parents used to sing to me during takeoff,” you found yourself blurting out suddenly, your cheeks growing warm at the admission. “I can remember my mom doing it when I was a little girl, and my dad used to do it for me even when I was in high school,” you explained shyly, lowering your eyes to your lap.
At that moment, your stomach dropped as the plane suddenly began hurtling forward, seeking enough momentum to become airborne.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to recall the sound of your parents’ voices in order to calm your racing heart. But a new voice suddenly entered the mix as you felt your newfound flying buddy lean across the armrest, his warm body pressing against your side as he sang quietly in your ear.
“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain…”
Wait a second. You knew that song. Where did you know that song from?
“Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill…”
Yes, you definitely knew that song. It was on one of the records your parents used to play when you were a little girl. Was it Jerry Lee Lewis?
Gasping in recognition, you whisper-sang the next lyric in harmony with Bradley—“Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”
He laughed in delight when you began singing along, squeezing your hand with an affectionate grin. “And would you look at that,” he said, nodding towards the window. “We’re airborne. Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
Shocked, you followed his line of vision and were taken aback to see that you were already ascending into the clouds, leaving the city of Atlanta far behind. That had been one of the smoothest takeoff experiences you’d had in—well, you couldn’t even remember how long.
“I barely even noticed!” you exclaimed, focusing your attention back on Bradley. You smiled gratefully, your heart melting at the adorable puppy dog look on his face. “Thank you, Bradley.”
You noticed at that moment that he still hadn’t let go of your hand, and your pulse began to quicken, but this time for entirely different reasons.
“You’re welcome,” he murmured in response, his voice low and suddenly husky. It did something to you, that deep, raspy voice of his. “Happy to do it.” He squeezed your hand gently once more, then slowly—almost hesitantly—let it go.
“I haven’t heard that song in the longest time,” you told him, resting back against your seat. “My parents used to listen to it.”
Bradley smiled slightly. “It’s the one song I can actually remember my dad singing. He loved to sing and play the piano. My mom had tons of home videos of him doing it. But that song—that song I can actually remember hearing him sing, you know? I was so young when he—well—I can remember that one. And that’s why it’s my favorite to sing and play.”
“You play the piano, too?” you asked, impressed. “Wow, a man of many talents.” You nudged him playfully, a big smile on your face.
“I’ll have to show you what I can do,” Bradley replied, winking.
Your stomach fluttered at the implication that he might actually want to see you again after today.
“I’d like that,” you admitted, ducking your head shyly. You suddenly felt much more aware of everything around you, particularly every inch of your muscular seatmate. Goodness, he really was huge, wasn’t he? Chewing nervously on your bottom lip, you began fidgeting with your bracelet, tugging at it absent-mindedly.
“That’s a pretty bracelet,” Bradley commented, pointing at it as he watched you twist it back and forth around your wrist. “A gift?” he asked lightly, his tone almost a little too casual.
“Mhm,” you nodded, smiling fondly as you gazed down at it. You could still remember the day you opened it. “My dad bought it for me as a present when I graduated high school. I never take it off.”
“Ah,” Bradley nodded, appearing surprisingly relieved. He was quiet for a moment or two, looking like he was mulling over something. Then he turned towards you and asked, “So, um, is there anybody waiting for you in San Diego? Anyone, uh, special, I mean?” he asked, his cheeks and his ears turning red as he rubbed the back of his neck.
You felt your own skin grow warm in response. Was Bradley asking if you had a boyfriend? And was he embarrassed about it? Just when you thought this man couldn’t possibly charm you any more than he already had.
“Not unless you count my neighbor, Mrs. Flores. She really appreciates it when I walk her dog on the weekends,” you told him, your lips twitching as you tried to maintain a straight face.
Caught off guard by your response, Bradley let out a loud laugh, covering his mouth with one hand as he glanced down at you, eyes twinkling.
“I’m sure Mrs. Flores will be very happy to see you back again,” he nodded, tapping his fingers on his tray table.
The two of you sat in silence for a couple minutes until you finally glanced up and said, “I had actually just gotten out of a long-term relationship right before I moved to San Diego. It was kind of the catalyst for why I decided to take the job at the Midway Museum.”
“Oh, really?” Bradley asked, eyebrows shooting up. Then he cleared his throat, shaking his head. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear that. If it’s too personal, we don’t have to talk about it.”
“No, it’s okay,” you sighed, twirling your bracelet a few times as you thought back on your last failed relationship. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as it normally did. Maybe time really did heal all wounds. You took a deep breath before you elaborated. “Andrew and I were together for four years. For a long time, I really thought he was the one. Katie was convinced that he was going to propose on our trip to Greece. It was a dream vacation for me. I had the whole thing planned out for months and months. And I really started to let myself believe that it was going to happen.”
Bradley sat quietly, watching you carefully as he attentively took in every word you uttered.
“We were in Athens, and I had the whole day planned—all these tours and museums. But Andrew insisted that he was too tired since we had just traveled from Rhodes, and he begged me to let him stay behind at the hotel. Being the idiot that I am, I thought that maybe he wanted to put the finishing touches on his big proposal. So I went on the tours by myself. But the last tour ended early, so I came back to our hotel room a little sooner than expected.”
Your throat began to tighten as the story continued, the pain of what had happened next eclipsed only by your embarrassment that Bradley would soon know how pitifully your last relationship had ended. Why had you brought all this up?
“I’ll spare you all the details, but suffice it to say, I found Andrew in bed with one of the cocktail waitresses from the hotel bar. And to no one’s surprise, there was no ring and he never had any intention of proposing. So I flew home from Greece minus a boyfriend and with very little remaining of my dignity. Leaving everything behind and starting fresh in San Diego seemed like a really good idea, so when the Midway contacted me, I jumped at the offer. And here I am,” you finished with a self-conscious laugh, shrugging your shoulders awkwardly.
Bradley didn’t say anything at first, just continued to stare at you in a way that had you feeling distinctly exposed. Your fingers immediately went to your bracelet once again, nervously fidgeting and waiting for him to say something.
Reaching out, he placed his hand over yours and stilled your movements gently. “First of all,” he began slowly, looking directly into your eyes. It seemed as though he was peering directly into your soul. “Andrew is a complete and total loser. If he didn’t know what he had in you, then he never deserved you to begin with. It’s his loss, and trust me, he’ll be regretting it for the rest of his life if he has even an ounce of sense.” His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles, making your legs suddenly feel like Jell-O. “Second of all, I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve that, and I hope you know that the way that idiot treated you in no way says anything about you. I’ve only known you for a few hours, but I can see that that guy never deserved you to begin with.”
Feeling bashful, you lowered your head, trying to escape the intensity of Bradley’s dark eyes. It didn’t matter though—you could still feel his gaze.
“You don’t have to say that,” you murmured, not wanting him to think you had just unloaded all of this on him for sympathy points.
“I’m not just saying it,” he insisted, his voice serious. “You’re a special girl, and you deserve to be with someone who treats you that way.”
Someone like you?
The thought sprang unbidden to your mind, causing you to grow flustered. “Th–thank you,” you stammered, worried for half a second that Bradley could actually read your mind.
You were saved from having to make any further comment in that moment when the stewardess suddenly appeared with the food cart, asking you if you wanted any snacks or beverages.
You opted for a Diet Coke and popcorn, while Bradley took a Sprite and a bag of potato chips.
“What do you say? A little toast to my new flight buddy?” Bradley suggested teasingly, holding his can of soda out towards you.
You couldn’t help but smile, lightly tapping your can against his. “Cheers to us,” you laughed, taking a small sip.
“To us,” Bradley grinned. “You know,” he went on, after taking a gulp of his Sprite, “if you ever want to think about getting your pilot’s license, I’d be happy to have you as my wingman—er, woman.”
You laughed aloud at the notion, shaking your head. “Um, did you already forget about how well I handled takeoff? I’m not so sure anyone would trust me behind the controls of a plane.”
“I could teach you,” he shot back, waggling his eyebrows until you laughed again. “Or at the very least, take you up for a little joyride. I’d make sure to keep you safe.”
Your heart warmed at his words, and you found yourself wondering what it would be like to walk through life with this man, to have him be the one you came home to every day.
To have him be the one to make you feel like the most special girl in the world.
“I would like that,” you confessed, pushing your self-consciousness to the side as you looked into his eyes. “I would like that a lot.”
“So would I,” Bradley replied, his expression earnest.
For the next hour or two, you and Bradley shared some of the snacks you’d packed in your duffel bag and talked about everything and nothing at the same time. You had never felt so instantly at ease with someone who had been a complete and total stranger just a few hours earlier. The fact that he had been in San Diego all this time, right under your nose, and that it had taken a flight home all the way from Virginia for you two to actually meet felt like more than just a coincidence. It felt like this was exactly where you were supposed to be.
At some point, you must have finally succumbed to your exhaustion and fallen asleep because when the captain announced that you were making your final descent into San Diego International Airport, you were lifting your head off Bradley’s shoulder and blinking in confusion.
“Hello there, sleepyhead,” Bradley grinned, wiping a hand down his face and rubbing the sleep out of his own eyes.
“How long was I asleep?” you asked, stretching your arms over your head. “I never sleep on planes.”
“Well you definitely slept on this one. I’d say you were probably out for at least an hour and a half,” he told you, running a hand through his hair, which made his sunkissed curls stand on end. “I nodded out, too. Guess we both needed it, huh?”
“Yeah, guess so,” you nodded, smiling at him.
By the time you finally deplaned—after Bradley, of course, had insisted on taking down your carry-on suitcase from the overhead bin and rolling it through the airport for you—you were growing both eager and anxious with anticipation of what the end of your journey would look like.
You and Bradley technically already had each other’s phone numbers, so should you say something about getting together? Would that seem too brazen? Should you just text him tomorrow and hope that whatever spark had been ignited during your travels today wouldn’t be extinguished by the time you both got home?
All of those thoughts and more were running through your head as you and Bradley took the escalator down to baggage claim and the terminal exit.
“Do you, um, do you have somebody picking you up?” Bradley asked as the two of you stepped off the escalator. He stepped to the side to avoid the flow of the crowd, and you stepped with him. “Mrs. Flores perhaps?” he added with a teasing spark in his eye.
“No,” you giggled, shaking your head. “I was just planning to call an Uber.”
“No need,” he said, his chest puffing out ever so slightly. “Mav and I will give you a ride home. He should actually be here already,” he mumbled, almost to himself, as he pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his messages.
“Oh, you guys don’t have to do that. I wouldn’t want you going out of your way,” you hurried to tell him, noticing that Bradley still had his hand on the handle of your suitcase.
“Who says it would be going out of our way?” Bradley retorted with that impossibly charming smile of his. “Unless, of course, you’re more comfortable taking an Uber. I don’t want to make you feel like—”
“No, no, you’re not,” you interrupted, wanting to make it clear to him that you appreciated the offer.
Seemingly at an impasse, the two of you just looked at each other and started laughing.
“I would love a ride, thank you. If it’s not too much trouble,” you told him.
“Never,” Bradley insisted. “Besides, you put up with me all day. I owe you.”
“I could say the same thing,” you grinned, reaching into the front pocket of your duffel bag and pulling out your cell phone. “In the meantime, I should text Katie and let her know I landed safely and that you haven’t abducted me or anything,” you teased jokingly.
Too late, you realized your mistake.
“Ah, so you told Katie about me, huh?” Bradley smirked, looking just a tad too pleased with himself. “What did you say?”
“Oh, um, nothing, just that I made a friend while traveling,” you stammered in humiliation, your cheeks feeling like they were on fire. “I’m just, um, I’m going to step over there while you get your bag.”
“Sure, sure,” he laughed, winking at you as he hurried over to the baggage carousel to search for his suitcase.
“Oh my God, how stupid are you?” you muttered to yourself, mentally kicking yourself for your careless words as you sent off a quick message to your best friend to let her know you were alive.
A moment later, she texted you back.
YOU BETTER CALL ME THE MINUTE YOU GET HOME!!! I WANT EVERY. SINGLE. DETAIL!!!
Smiling, you dropped your phone back into your bag and looked up to see Bradley walking towards you, his suitcase in hand.
“Ready to head out?” he asked with a smile, watching as you grabbed the handle of your carry-on and did one quick scan to make sure you hadn’t dropped anything.
“Ready,” you nodded, following him outside to where a slew of Ubers and other cars were waiting to pick up their passengers.
“There’s Mav,” Bradley told you, pointing with his free hand towards the end of the pick-up line, where a handsome older man with dark hair and an easy smile was waving at you.
“Your godfather drives a Porsche?” you asked, your eyes nearly bugging out of your head at the sight of the vintage car. It was in pristine condition and you were certain it must have cost a small fortune.
“Technically, it’s his fiancée, Penny’s car, but she lets him drive it when he’s been good,” Bradley joked, resting a gentle hand on your back as he guided you through the crowd.
Bradley was quick to embrace his godfather when the two of you finally reached the Porsche, slapping him on the back before stepping back and holding out a hand to you. “Mav, I’d like you to meet my new travel buddy,” he grinned, introducing you by name.
Mav, as Bradley kept calling him, offered you one of those easy smiles as he held out his hand, which you took with a smile of your own.
“Ah, so this is the girl from the plane I’ve been hearing so much about,” Mav smirked, shooting a pointed look in his godson’s direction.
“Mav!” Bradley hissed through gritted teeth, his complexion instantly turning pink, even in the shade.
“Ah,” you smirked, feeling vindicated from your earlier blunder. “So you told Mav about me, huh?” you asked, nudging his side. “What did you say?” you teased, tossing back his question from before.
“Oh, he said plenty,” Mav jumped in, clearly enjoying watching Bradley squirm as he opened the passenger side door for you.
“Don’t listen to him. He’s crazy. All those Gs he’s always pulling have finally gone to his head,” Bradley protested, although he was smiling as he said it.
“Oh, I think I’m going to enjoy this car ride very much,” you giggled, winking at Bradley as you slid into your seat.
“Promise you’ll still like me by the time we get home?” Bradley whispered, leaning in close as he climbed in beside you.
You grinned up at him, thinking about how, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel so alone. San Diego suddenly felt much more like home than it ever had.
“Promise.”
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papyrus-in-practice · 2 months ago
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IT'S WORLD MENTAL HEALTH DAY, FOLKS!!!!
So, I wanted to post something a bit different!
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A common prompt I use with my clients is a positive affirmation jar which is a project in which the client decorates a jar and writes positive affirmation on slips of paper to keep in the jar. In the case that I run out of jars, I make boxes out of paper. A couple weeks ago, I had an idea while and that was to fuse this prompt and Superhero Therapy.
Superhero therapy was initially conceptualized as a form of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy that used superheroes or other characters from media to facilitate the acceptance of oneself and one’s emotions and the commitment to move forward. 
Clients engaging in superhero therapy may be prompted to reflect on their own experiences in life and identify a “superhero” they may relate to or look up to. “Superheroes” don’t have to be the cape-wearing people with superhuman abilities. They can be any characters we find in any media. What defines a “superhero” in superhero therapy is a character that you can relate to on some level and one that possesses strength, wisdom, or other traits you admire. 
Especially when diving into the topic of change, clients might be encouraged to imagine: if that “superhero” showed up at the exact moment you needed them the most, what kind of message would they tell you? This prompt takes that part and creates a physical object that can relay those messages when you need it most. 
Basically, what I did is I thought of characters that I felt I could relate to or look up to. These are my “superheroes”, characters that have strength, wisdom, or another trait that I admire. I drew these characters out and collaged them onto a box.
After the box was done, I wrote short lines that each character might say to me during times when I need encouragement the most. I made sure to label each one so I knew who was talking. I'm still adding some messages, so it's almost "done".
Since I tend to need encouragement the most when I’m at work, I put it in my office!
It was a fun project and I wanted to share it with y’all.
Quick disclaimer, this isn’t therapy nor any kind of substitute for therapy. This is more of a project I did to essentially play-test a prompt. Still, I think other folks could benefit from doing it, too. We’ve all got our own self-defeating thoughts rampaging through our brains and, sometimes, we need a reminder from our inspirations to direct us towards our values. Superhero therapy is a lot about naming and recognizing our unhelpful thoughts as thoughts. Then, we make the commitment by pursuing our values through the characters we admire
Characters from left to right:
Toriel(Toby Fox's Undertale)
Papyrus(Toby Fox's Undertale/Papyrus in Practice)
Sans(Toby Fox's Undertale)
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Doc(@tehrogueva Therapist!Sans)
Baggs(@megalommi Megalosomnia)
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Dream(@jokublog Dreamtale)
Nightmare(@jokublog Dreamtale)
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I also wanted to shout out @wishing-stones Rabble and Rampallians since I also felt really connected with their portrayal of Baggs, Dream, and Nightmare!
Luz and Eda(The Owl House by Dana Terrace)
Andromachus(Vampire Therapist by Cyrus Nemati, @littlebatgames)
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References: 
Scarlet, J., & Alves, W. (2017). Superhero therapy: Mindfulness skills to help teens and young adults deal with anxiety, depression, and trauma. New Harbinger Publications, Inc.
Washington, K. (2019, April 25). What is Superhero Therapy? Denver Health. October 10, 2024, https://www.denverhealth.org/blog/2019/04/what-is-superhero-therapy
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nebbyy · 8 months ago
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Please write a fanfic about King Baldwin IV from KoH, where he fell in love with female reader. The plot is up to you. Please make it a serious love story with slight fluff 🤗🤭
Baldwin IV x reader - Life always comes down to a game of chess
A/N: You have no idea how much I love you anon, this was one of the prompts I already wanted to write omgggg!! For this fic I kinda got inspired by this painting (which, for everyone interested, it’s “La belle dame sans merci” by Frank Dicksee), and you’ll see how and why reading it;)
Summary: King Baldwin IV receives an offer from an Italian nobleman to marry his daughter; unsure of whether to accept or not this compelling offer, Baldwin decides to do what he does best…
Warning: there are some mentions of christianity and religious references along with some hints at the misogynistic ideologies of the time (about the woman being “owned” by the dominant male figure in her life) ((I don’t condone this ideology at all but I thought it’d be fitting to add it anyway to give some accuracy to it)).
Word count: 2637
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King Baldwin couldn’t quite wrap his head around you. The day that he was informed of your engagement, he felt himself quite skeptical of the idea of marrying someone. After all, ever since his leprosy had been diagnosed he had to get used to the idea of living a life of solitude, forced into a lifelong chastity, for no sane man would ever marry off their daughter to a leper. With time, he had found solace in nurturing his own knowledge and virtue, elevating himself to a level of wisdom that very few could boast at his young age.
During the following days, the young king's mind was plagued with thoughts, considerations he was making to weigh the choice. The benefits of marrying Lady Y/N were many, first and foremost securing a connection to the land of Italian speakers, allowing for easier trafficking of crusaders arriving in the Holy Land, not to mention the abundance that would be the young lady's dowry. And not only did marrying her mean strengthening the economical side of his reign, but it also meant giving the impression to the public that the king's health condition was improving to such an extent that he considered that to be an ideal time to marry. His most trusted men and all of his advisors kept repeating to him, marrying Lady Y/N would’ve been  comparable to a blessing.
But despite all the benefits this union seemed like it would bring, Baldwin continued to hesitate to make a decision. What left him so undecided was the possibility that this was some kind of deception, a conspiracy orchestrated against him, hidden in the form of the most convenient of marriages. It was up to him to decide whether it was worth taking these risks in favor of the benefits that would come if his concerns turned out to be unfounded. 
Like everything else in his life, this choice came down to a game of chess…
It was this idea that prompted him to make a decision. Baldwin had a messenger called, to be sent to Pisa to give the news to Lord Y/F/N that the king wished to report his decision to him live, at his court. For the lord to arrive it would have to wait, but Baldwin has always been a man of exceptional patience.
Four months passed, when at the dawn of Lent it was announced by a Pisan messenger that Lord Y/F/N and his daughter had come to Acre, and would soon be coming to Jerusalem. Another week passed before father and daughter, riding two white horses and accompanied by an escort of knights arrived at the royal palace.
When he first saw you, Baldwin could have sworn he saw Mary himself. You walked with such grace that you almost seemed to float. Your face looked serene, despite the anxiety that had been devouring you from within ever since the day the invitation from the king of Jerusalem reached you; a blue veil covered your hair, framing your face and falling over your shoulders. You bowed to Baldwin as was proper to do before a king, yet he felt so tempted to interrupt you, prevent you from bowing to him, perhaps even bowing to you himself.
At that moment he felt like Lancelot before Guinevere, completely mesmerized by your beauty, one who seemed more fit to an angel than a woman. But, he gave no sign of his true emotional state; after all, a gorgeous woman does not mean she can be fit to serve as queen. Her answer will be decided when she has had a chance to hear you speak, away from the judgmental stares of the court, free from any influence that might change what you really think.
As the sun shone bright in the sky, the banquet took place inside of the palace. The king excused himself before going to eat by himself in his chambers as usual, leaving his guests in the company of his sisters and his court. Loud chatter filled the room, goblets were raised to get more wine poured, courses flowed onto the set table, a tribute to thank Lord Y/F/N for making such a journey to fulfill the king's request. All this noise, yet in your ears all became quiet when a servant approached your chair, whispering a few simple words, "The king has requested your presence at dinner."
Your blood froze in your veins in surprise, and you could almost feel your father's thrill as you rose from your seat, having the servant guide you toward the king's study. Walking through the halls of the palace, you could do nothing but feel so small in comparison, you almost seemed to disappear, enveloped by the magnificence of everything around you that, if all went well, you would have called your own.
You were brought back to reality when the heavy doors of the king's room were opened by the two guards who stood at his sides. An enveloping fragrance, a mixture of myrrh and frankincense filled your senses with a feeling of serenity, an almost familiar feeling. In the center of the room, a hooded figure, dressed in silk as white as snow. "Come forward, my lady. I apologize for my absence at the table but," she interjected for a moment, rising from her seat and revealing her face-or at least, what was not covered by the veil-"many might find my appearance somewhat...disturbing during a meal." He chuckled a little at that last part. You wondered if irony had become a kind of means for him to soften his own hellish condition. 
As soon as he turned around you could not help but study the appearance of what will hopefully be your future husband. Rumors about his condition had been swirling since the day he was crowned, so you had been prepared to be confronted with a horrifically disfigured man. Instead, although part of his face was covered by the thin veil, it was like an instinct for you to try to study his features. You could vaguely make out the golden hair that adorned his face, although it was covered by the veil. His voice had intrigued you; it sounded so jovial and yet so deep. A melody that sang of the young monarch's endeavors. It intrigued you, you wondered what his lips looked like, whether they matched the sound of his voice.
But what really caught your interest were his eyes. They were blue, but of a color so deep, so intense, it reminded you of tales you had heard about the northern seas, of the waters that dark and deep seemed to beckon sailors, to lead them to drown within them. Likewise you felt mesmerized by such intensity. And you wondered, how much of this would remain the same as his illness progressed.
You recovered from that momentary trance, wasting no time to bow, but this time Baldwin stopped you before you were able to bow more than your head: "Don't bow, please. Such reverences are not necessary here." You looked at him a little dumbfounded, but despite the king's unusual attitude you did not object. He stepped to the side, revealing a finely decorated chessboard, with all the pawns already set in place. "Do you play?" he asked softly, and you finally mustered up the courage to speak "It's been some time since I last did," as you approached the table, taking your seat opposite Baldwin. He took his seat again, and for the first time in your life you found yourself face to face with a king. 
You quickly realised that he had assigned you the white pawns, the small courtesy of moving you first. You took a moment to think of an initial strategy, and moved your first pawn. A horse. Baldwin raised his eyebrows, surprised by your decision. "Aren't you going to move the pawns first?" You kept your gaze on the chessboard, partly out of respect and partly out of fear, still unsure why the king would call you to his chambers, if indeed it was all just to have a playmate. "I always prefer to start with the horse. I like to think that the pawns would be frightened to charge against the enemy without a knight to guide them." You looked up, meeting his eyes that studied you intrigued. Chuckling at what you had just said, you continued, shaking your head slightly, "Forgive me, it was just a silly thought."
"Not at all, my lady," he replied, studying your every detail, "I find it fascinating." It was his turn to move, and as per rule, he moved one of the pawns, the one in front of the queen. "So you think good leadership is better than letting the individual decide for himself?" There was a spark that had lit up in his eyes, something playful. It was clear that you were intriguing him, surprisingly in your eyes, since you had been instructed to stay behind your father's shadow, not to express your thoughts or externalize your ideologies.
Everything had to be perfect, one could not risk the futile mind of a young woman ruining the marriage that would have been so beneficial to her dukedom, but above all to her family. Yet at that moment she felt that expressing what resided in her own mind was exactly what Baldwin wanted from her. Something lit up in her too, and he in turn caught the same spark in her eyes. Could it be that she had figured out the trick...? 
Another pawn moved, it was Baldwin's turn to move again. Your eyes seldom parted from each other, just for that moment necessary to make your own move. "Independence is not always what benefits a man. Certainly, it is tempting, but in moments of indecision it risks leading to oblivion. An infantryman needs a leader, a young man who is lost in the woods needs a hunter to guide him out..." Another move, the white bishop points directly at the black king "...an indecisive man needs an outside opinion to make his decision."
You smiled, and like the sweetest of plagues you infected him too. You had deciphered his little deception. An innocent deception, with the purpose of seeing with your own eyes how you, in a condition so similar to what is the duty of a sovereign, would have acted. 
After all, his life always came down to a game of chess....
"So you understood..." Baldwin whispered, again sitting in his place. For the first time in his memory, someone had managed to leave him speechless. His witty mind seemed to have died out all of a sudden, the knight in him unarmed by the woman sitting in front of him. Maybe the deception wasn’t as occult as he had planned, or maybe this young lady was really able to stand up to him.
You smiled at him proudly, be proud of your intuition but also relieved that your thought had not turned out to be foolish. Your pride had removed from your mind every rule, every admonition that had been given to you from the moment you set foot in the Holy Land; your mind was now like a river in flood, finally free to flow out according to its natural course. "I do not blame you, my lord. I realize that this is a difficult choice for you, and that the factors at stake go far beyond your individual will."
"And what do you think about that?" Your smile acquired a bittersweet scent, and you answered without almost hesitation: "I am only a woman, my will is that of my father and it will be of my husband. My family prays that this role will be filled by you, and for this to happen I have been instructed to be fit to reign at your side."
“That I can clearly see, but what truly urges me is to know what your own will says. If we were to marry, you would be the bride to a wretched man, one whose fate has already been announced by God. My demise won't be far off, you’ll be left a widow in a foreign land. And before this… curse gets the better of me, there is no saying that it won’t get to you too. If it did, you would suffer the same fate I had been given.”
It took you a moment to let his words sink into your mind. He spoke the truth, a future with him would be filled with sickness and uncertainty; you would have to live in a court far from your home, where everyone was waiting for the king’s death like a flock of crows flying above a dying man. You took a deep breath, feeling as everything came down to this very moment. “I won’t lie to you, my lord, the future that awaits me while standing by your side is not an easy one by any means, and I’m very much aware of that. I do not expect my future to be easy, for it would be an excess of greed. So if I can have a saying in my own future, I’d like to say that I would much rather all the time that is given to me by the Lord standing by the side of a man filled with virtue, than by the side of a man too full of himself to see anything just an inch away from his reflection. There would be no greater honor for me than to stand by your side, for as long as you still have to live, my lord. And if I ever was to catch this disease as well, then I would have no other words to say other than God wills it.“
At your words, the young king had to shake himself up, now more than ever necessary for him to say something, anything really. “For you, my lady, I shall always be just Baldwin.” His tone was softer than ever, a soft breeze that reached to you and whispered I am but yours now. It was unsaid, but decided. Once this meeting would be over, the king would come to your father, and confirm his decision to accept the proposal. Only problem was, this meeting seemed to have become endless. What was supposed to be a quick meal, accompanied by a game of chess, turned into a lively exchange of political views, then silly childhood anecdotes, then again into a walk in the inner courtyard of the palace. Baldwin tried hard to keep you in his presence for as long as was deemed decent for an unmarried man and woman. He kept you with him as long as he could, and when that was no longer possible, he led you back into the great hall, gently holding your hand over his. Soon after the announcement of your engagement, the wedding was set to happen during the following Easter, and the banquet made in honor of his guests was prolonged until the sun had been long set, this time in honor of his betrothed.
You think back to that day fondly, as you lay on your bed, in the comfort of silky sheets and soft pillows. One of your hands holds your head while the others traces the patterns of the scars in your husband’s face that have considerably worsened during the years. Aside from the bed, sitting on a table, forgotten as long as the night reigned over Jerusalem, were two crowns, along with two chess pawns. A white queen and a black king. Both came from the set that had been used the day the two of you met, a reminder for Baldwin of the day God had merged your destinies in one.
A/N: wowww that came out longer than I though oopss. ANYWAY, this was my interpretation of your request, anon, hope you like it!! Also, for everyone who’s gonna read this, feel free to leave any constructive criticism since this is my first fic and I would like to improve a looot more in my writing skills. That’s it now have a nice day y’all <3<3
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minthy · 2 years ago
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the sillies, (they are my new hyperfixation so bare w me)
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Am I self projecting? maybe..
uh, also, this comment gave me the inspiration so uh, yayay!!
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adhd!sans by: @/gudulle_vinyls (on tiktok)
anxiety!sans by: @hheisa
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edenesth · 1 year ago
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The Secret Admirer
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Pairing: school rival!San x fem!reader (featuring Wooyoung)
AU: high school au (enemies to lovers)
Word Count: 14k
Summary: As a new transfer student in KQ High, you start receiving anonymous love notes and gifts that leave you both intrigued and confused. It becomes a secret admirer mystery at school and everyone has their theories about who it might be. Could it be your crush, Wooyoung, as you'd hoped or the annoying Choi San?
A/N: This is lowkey inspired by ATEEZ's The Real music video. San looked so good here, he's literally unreal.
ATEEZ Masterlist
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Mingi let out a sigh filled with anxiety, his gaze fixed on the imposing school building that would be your new home. You pursed your lips, throwing an arm over his shoulder as best you could, your best friend towering over you by at least half a head.
"I'm really scared." He admitted, shoulders sagging under the weight of his apprehension.
In an attempt to ease his tension, you playfully nudged him on the head, "Oh, come on, Mingi. We didn't leave our old school behind just for you to remain scared here. I promise things will be better."
He managed a forced smile, wanting to show strength for your sake.
Your previous school was a nightmare, a toxic environment where bullies ruled the place, and even teachers struggled to maintain order. Wealthy students received special treatment, while the rest of the students became targets of the elite.
Poor Mingi had suffered the worst of it.
He endured relentless bullying that left him with severe anxiety.
As his best friend, you had done everything in your power to protect him, but the odds were stacked against you when you, like him and everyone else, were only from a regular-income family.
In the end, you two suffered together, united by the daily struggle.
You had talked to your parents about the situation, and together with Mingi's parents, they agreed to transfer both of you to a new and more promising school in the neighbourhood.
That's how you found yourselves standing before KQ High.
It was your first day at this new school, and while you were filled with optimism, Mingi still carried the weight of his old fears.
"Hey, no matter what happens, I'll be right here with you, okay?"
His genuine smile finally broke through, and he pulled you into a side hug, "Thanks, buttercup. You're the best."
You smirked and dramatically flipped your hair, "I know. Now, let's get going, dumbass. We can't afford to be late on our first day. Trust me, you don't want to be a laughingstock."
With his laughter accompanying you, you both headed towards the unknown, already feeling a little lighter and more hopeful about the new journey ahead.
Lucky for the two of you, the first period of the day turned out to be an unexpectedly pleasant surprise.
As you and Mingi settled into your seats in the classroom, you exchanged a look of amazement. This was already a stark contrast to your previous school, where you had grown accustomed to the oppressive atmosphere of fear and hostility.
Today, however, there were no bullies in sight, and the atmosphere felt refreshingly different.
Everyone in the class greeted you both with polite smiles and warm words of welcome upon your first meeting. It was as if they genuinely cared about their studies and the well-being of their fellow classmates.
The teacher, Mr. Kim, a kind and enthusiastic educator, introduced himself with a cheerful demeanour.
He took the time to get to know each student, making sure to pronounce everyone's names correctly and asking about their interests and aspirations.
It felt like a breath of fresh air compared to the apathetic instructors you had encountered before.
As the class began, you found yourself immersed in the subject matter, something that had rarely happened at your previous school. The other students seemed equally engaged, and there was an air of camaraderie as you all shared your thoughts and ideas.
During a group activity, you and Mingi teamed up with a couple of classmates, who were eager to include you in the discussion. They listened attentively to your input and shared their own insights. It was a stark departure from your past experiences of being isolated and ridiculed.
The minutes passed, and the first period drew to a close.
As you gathered your belongings, Mingi turned to you with a smile that reflected his growing sense of relief and happiness.
"Can you believe this, buttercup?" He whispered, his eyes wide with amazement, "No bullies, no weird stares, just normal people treating us like... well, normal people."
You returned his smile, "I know, Mingi. It's incredible. I think we might have finally found a place where we belong."
Mingi nodded, and together you both left the classroom, carrying a newfound sense of hope and optimism. The journey was just beginning, but for the first time in a long while, you felt like you were on the right path, surrounded by classmates who were genuinely kind and a school where learning was valued above all else.
But perhaps you might have spoken a little too soon.
In the blink of an eye, a rather intimidating figure appeared before you just as you were making your way to your locker.
The collision was unavoidable, causing the stranger to drop his stack of books. You gasped, immediately bowing multiple times and apologising profusely, not wanting to escalate the situation.
Considering how kind everyone had been so far, you expected this guy to graciously accept your apology.
Oh boy, you couldn't have been more wrong.
Reality proved quite different as he responded with a withering glare, accompanied by a muttered curse under his breath. He then scoffed, "Sheesh, get yourself a pair of glasses if you can't see properly."
Your heart sank, and you could feel your optimism from earlier wavering. It seemed that not everyone was as welcoming as you'd initially thought.
Should've known things were too good to be true.
Not one to back down easily, you rolled your eyes and clenched your jaw in annoyance, "Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that a rat crawled up your ass and died there, because what the heck, dude? There's no need to be rude, it was clearly just an accident."
Mingi's eyes widened at your audacious response, panicking.
He quickly grabbed your arm and attempted to pull you away, stammering, "N-no, she didn't mean that! We're new here, so she's not familiar with the rules yet. She reacts strangely to shock... ha ha... We'll just be on our way, sir."
You scoffed, tugging your arm stubbornly out of Mingi's grasp, determined to confront this douchebag, who you now knew as Choi San, thanks to his name tag. You huffed in irritation, "Sir? I think not. Stay put, Mingi. I've got this."
San responded with a smirk, his disbelief evident in his expression, "You? What are you going to do, Miss Smarty Pants?"
To your best friend's absolute chagrin, you rolled up your sleeves, sizing the bully up daringly, fully prepared to fight if necessary.
But before you could do or say anything rash, someone stepped in between you and San, "Whoa, whoa, calm down, let's all take a deep breath. There's no need to fight, I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding."
He turned to you after shooting San a quick glare in warning, "I apologise on behalf of my friend here. He's just having a rough day. I assure you, he's not always like this."
You wished you could respond with collected composure, but you were utterly captivated by the stunning young man who had just intervened. Mingi, sensing the atmosphere, joined you and bowed, "I'm truly sorry as well. She isn't usually like this, I promise."
The guy shook his head warmly, reassuring, "No, please, you have nothing to be sorry for."
While you were momentarily lost in admiration, your best friend took charge of the conversation on your behalf, "I heard you both are new?" The guy inquired, and Mingi nodded, introducing both of you.
He offered a friendly smile, "Oh, it's nice to meet you two. I'm Wooyoung, and this is San. We happen to be the president and vice president of the baseball club. Perhaps you could both come over and take a look once you've settled in."
Finally finding your voice upon hearing this invitation, you enthusiastically chimed in, "We'll definitely be there!"
San couldn't hide his annoyance, clearly vexed by your shift in demeanour due to his best friend's presence. After exchanging a few more pleasantries with Wooyoung, you went separate ways.
As you and Mingi walked home together after school that day, he couldn't help but express his concern.
He shot you a reproachful glance and said, "Seriously, you almost got into a brawl with San back there. You can't just let your temper get the best of you like that."
You took a deep breath, your expression softening as you explained.
"Mingi, I didn't want to fight. I just... I wanted to make sure we don't become targets like we were at our old school. Sometimes, you've got to let people know you're not someone to mess with so they'll leave you alone. It's not about aggression, it's about self-defence."
He sighed, realising your perspective, "I get it, buttercup, but let's try to handle these situations differently, okay? We're in a new place, and maybe things will be different here."
You nodded, understanding his point and promising to exercise more restraint in the future.
Just like your nickname, Mingi named you after the Powerpuff Girl who resembled you the most. While you enjoyed teasing him and playfully referring to him as your princess, you were like his protector; embodying the qualities of a tough hotheaded tomboy, much like the actual Buttercup.
The conversation then took a lighter turn as Mingi began talking about the president of the baseball club, "Did you see the way Wooyoung handled the situation? He's so cool. I hope I can be like him one day."
A dreamy smile crossed your face as you thought of the handsome baseball club president, "Yeah, Wooyoung is something else, isn't he? So confident and composed. It's like he's got this natural charm about him."
Mingi chuckled, catching the starry look in your eyes, "Someone's got a little crush, huh?"
You rolled your eyes playfully, but there was no denying it – there was something undeniably captivating about Wooyoung that had left an impression on both of you.
As you continued your walk home, you wondered what other adventures and encounters awaited you in this new and intriguing chapter of your high school life.
A week had passed since you and Mingi had started attending KQ High, and things were shaping up quite well.
The two of you had managed to make some new friends here and there, and the best part was that you could finally focus on your studies without the looming fear of being bullied.
As you both sat down for lunch in the school courtyard, the sun shining brightly overhead, you felt a sense of contentment. The atmosphere was different here, and it was refreshing to know that you could be yourself without constantly looking over your shoulder.
Mingi took a bite of his sandwich and then turned to you, a mischievous glint in his eye, "You know, I've been thinking. We should pay a visit to the baseball club soon."
You grinned, realising where he was heading with this, "I was just about to say that! I mean, Wooyoung and San did seem pretty cool, it wouldn't hurt to check out what the club is all about."
He nodded in agreement, excitement in his voice, "Exactly! We've literally already met the most important people in the club. Wooyoung's the president, and he's so sweet and welcoming. Plus, San's the vice president, he might not be as warm and fuzzy, but he's still part of the team."
You both chuckled at the thought of San's initial grumpy demeanour.
You were willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps Wooyoung had been right, perhaps San was just having a bad day.
Your best friend continued, "Besides, I hear the baseball club is pretty popular here. It could be a great way for us to finally get more involved in school activities."
With a determined nod, you replied, "For sure. Let's finish our lunch, and maybe we can swing by the club after classes today. I guess it's about time we step out of our comfort zone and try doing what normal students do for a change."
His eyes lit up with enthusiasm as he agreed, "Sounds like a plan. Who knows, maybe we'll discover a hidden talent for baseball or make even more friends along the way."
As you both finished your lunch and chatted about your upcoming visit to the baseball club, you felt a sense of excitement for the adventures and friendships that awaited you at KQ High.
The afternoon sun was dipping low in the sky as you and Mingi made your way to the baseball club's practice field. You were both excited to see what the club had to offer and meet more of your new schoolmates.
However, as you approached the field, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Wooyoung was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, San was there to greet you and Mingi.
You tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach, reminding yourself that maybe San had just been having a bad day when you first met him.
As you approached, his expression remained stoic, and he barely acknowledged your presence. He turned to Mingi with a polite nod and said, "Hey, you're Mingi, right? I'm San, the vice president. Nice to meet you."
Mingi smiled and extended his hand, shaking San's, "Yeah, that's me. Nice to meet you too, San."
You felt a pang of frustration.
San had greeted Mingi with politeness, but when he turned to you, his demeanour shifted completely. He didn't offer a handshake or a smile; instead, he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.
"And who are you?"
The blatant hostility in his tone caught you off guard.
You felt your patience wearing thin as you replied, trying to maintain your composure as you gave him your name, "I'm Mingi's friend. We're both new here, and we wanted to check out the baseball club."
His response was a scoff and a dismissive wave of his hand, "Figures."
You exchanged a bewildered look with Mingi, who seemed equally taken aback by San's attitude. It was clear that the vice president had something against you, and it was infuriating to be treated so poorly when you had done nothing to provoke him.
Before the situation could escalate further, you decided to take the high road and simply said, "Well, we'll leave you to it then. Sorry for bothering you."
Mingi nodded in agreement, and you both turned to leave the baseball field, your excitement from earlier now replaced by disappointment and frustration.
You couldn't figure out why San had such a strong dislike for you.
A few days after your rather disheartening encounter with the vice president at the baseball club, you and Mingi were surprised to find Wooyoung approaching you both with a warm smile on his face.
He seemed genuinely apologetic as he began, "Hey, I heard about what happened when you first visited the club. I was away for a meeting that day, and I just wanted to apologise for San's behaviour. He was being unreasonable, and I've spoken to him about it. Sorry about that."
You exchanged a glance with Mingi, your initial tension easing at the club president's friendly demeanour, "No worries," Mingi replied diplomatically, "We understand that everyone has off days."
Wooyoung nodded appreciatively, then made an offer that took you both by surprise, "Well, how about I personally give you a tour of the club and introduce you to the other members? I promise you won't have any trouble with San this time."
You hesitated for a moment, your previous encounter with San still fresh in your mind. But the Wooyoung's sincere offer was hard to resist, and you nodded in agreement.
"Sure, that sounds great. Thank you, Wooyoung."
A few days later, you and Mingi met up with the club president at the baseball field.
He was as charming and friendly as ever, making you feel at ease. As he began to show you around and introduce you to the club members, you were impressed by the teamwork and talent on display.
But your anxiety resurfaced when you noticed San's presence.
Wooyoung had assured you that San would behave civilly, but as the tour continued, it became painfully clear that the club's vice president had no intention of including you in the proceedings.
He interacted with Mingi, offering insights and sharing stories about the club, but he completely disregarded your presence. It was as if you were invisible to him, and you couldn't shake the feeling of being an outsider.
You tried your best to remain composed and not let his behaviour get to you, but it was hard to enjoy the tour when you felt so excluded. Wooyoung noticed your discomfort but didn't address it directly, choosing to focus on showing you the positive aspects of the club.
Once the tour ended, you and Mingi thanked Wooyoung for his time and kindness, genuinely appreciating his efforts to make you feel welcome. But the unresolved tension with San lingered in the air, leaving you with mixed feelings about your visit to the baseball club.
After much contemplation, you and Mingi decided not to join any clubs for the time being, and instead, chose to focus on your studies and adapt to your surroundings first.
As the days turned into weeks at KQ High, your relationship with San seemed to evolve from animosity to outright rivalry.
Every interaction with him felt like a challenge, as he continuously sought to get on your nerves. He never missed an opportunity to one-up you, whether it was by bragging about his grades or teasing you for having slightly lower scores.
In the classroom, San always seemed to find a way to sit near you, making snide comments about your work.
If you scored well on a test, he would downplay it, claiming it was just luck. When your grades were slightly lower than his, he would never let you forget it, making sly remarks about your academic abilities.
Despite his childish behaviour, you were irritated by his constant need to compete. It was as if he couldn't stand the thought of you outperforming him in any way. Your rivalry with the vice president of the baseball club became the talk of the school, with classmates often teasing you both for your ongoing battles.
Amidst this rivalry, Wooyoung seemed to sense your frustration.
He became extra caring and attentive, making an effort to balance out his best friend's behaviour. The club president went out of his way to support you in your studies, offering to help you with difficult subjects and encouraging you to join extracurricular activities.
His kindness and understanding provided a stark contrast to San's behaviour, and you appreciated his efforts to make amends for his friend's actions. Wooyoung's friendship became a source of comfort and encouragement during your high school journey, and you found yourself growing closer to him as a result.
As time went on, you realised that despite the challenges posed by San's rivalry, you had a strong support system in Mingi and Wooyoung, who helped you navigate the ups and downs of high school life.
Your determination to succeed and prove yourself only grew stronger, fueled by the competitive spirit ignited by your rivalry with San.
During a brief break between classes, you were walking alongside Mingi, casually complaining about your favourite chocolate milk running out in the school cafeteria. It had become somewhat of a ritual for you to enjoy that chocolatey goodness during your short breaks, and its absence was deeply felt.
"I can't believe they ran out of my favourite milk again," You groaned to Mingi, shaking your head in disappointment, "It's like they always do it right when I need it the most."
Mingi, ever the empathetic friend, sighed in agreement, "I know, right? It's like they have a radar for when you're craving it."
As you approached your locker during the break, you prepared to grab your textbooks for the next class. However, when you opened your locker, you let out a surprised gasp.
Inside your locker, right next to your textbooks, was a carton of your favourite chocolate milk. You blinked in disbelief, your eyes widening, and your heart skipped a beat.
You reached for it and found a note attached.
Mingi's excitement was palpable as he watched your reaction, "What is it? Did someone leave you a surprise?" You pulled out the note and read it aloud, your voice filled with astonishment, "I hope your favourite milk can cheer you up. Enjoy!"
His eyes widened even more, and he couldn't contain his excitement, "Ooh, you have a secret admirer!" He exclaimed, his voice a little too loud for the quiet hallway. Your face flushed with embarrassment as the attention of your fellow students turned towards you.
You stammered, "I-I don't know who it could be."
Mingi grinned mischievously, putting two and two together, "Maybe it's someone from the baseball club, trying to impress you."
The thought had crossed your mind as well, but you couldn't be sure.
As the mystery of your secret admirer hung in the air, you felt a mixture of curiosity and delight. Who could it be that knew about your love for chocolate milk and wanted to make your day a little brighter?
As time passed, the mystery of your secret admirer deepened, and the gestures of affection continued to pour in.
Every day seemed to bring a new surprise, from your favourite snacks and drinks to essential items to get you through the day. The notes that accompanied these gifts grew sweeter by the day, and it was clear that this person knew you extremely well.
One day, you found a note that simply read, "I hope this makes you smile today," along with a bouquet of your favourite flowers.
Another time, a cosy scarf appeared in your locker with a note that said, "Stay warm and happy, always."
Your secret admirer seemed to anticipate your needs and desires, brightening your days with their thoughtful gestures. You felt a warm sense of connection with this mysterious person who seemed to know you so intimately.
Unbeknownst to you, your secret admirer had become the talk of the school.
Everyone had their own theories about who it might be, and gossip about the identity of this mysterious person spread like wildfire. Some speculated it was someone from the baseball club, while others believed it could be a classmate who had been secretly watching you from afar.
Throughout all of this, your rivalry with San continued.
He would often tease you about the "silly" gifts you were receiving, making fun of the person who would actually like you. Although his comments annoyed you, they also fueled your determination to uncover the identity of your secret admirer.
On the flip side, your bond with Wooyoung continued to grow stronger. He would occasionally do things that made your heart flutter, like lending you his jacket when you were cold or giving you his umbrella when you forgot to bring yours.
These gestures were so attentive and thoughtful that they set your crush on him into overdrive, something even Mingi wouldn't do.
As the days went by, the secret admirer mystery at school only intensified, and you found yourself torn between trying to solve the puzzle and cherishing the daily surprises that brightened your life.
One afternoon, as you and Mingi sat together in your favourite spot in the school courtyard, the topic of your secret admirer came up once again. Ever the imaginative friend, he threw out a series of wild suggestions, each more unlikely than the last.
"What if it's Seonghwa from the calligraphy club? I mean, you did have that one conversation with him." Mingi proposed, his eyes dancing with mischief.
You rolled your eyes at the idea.
"Oh come on, that's a bit too far-fetched, don't you think? Seonghwa is way too sophisticated to have a crush on me."
Mingi didn't stop there, "Okay, okay, how about Yunho from the biker's club? He did lend you a pen during that exam, after all. Could be a sign."
You couldn't help but chortle at Mingi's wild theories.
"Dude, you're trippin'. Yunho is practically a legend in this school. He's got way better things to do than leave me love notes."
Mingi shrugged, conceding, "Yeah, you're probably right. And then there's Yeosang, the untouchable genius and president of the student council. Maybe he's secretly smitten with you."
You burst into laughter, "Mingi, you're freaking crazy! Yeosang is way out of my league. Besides, why would someone like him be interested in me?"
Mingi finally gave up on his outlandish guesses and turned to you with a smile, "Alright, buttercup. Who do you think it is then?"
You felt your cheeks flush, and you hesitated for a moment before shyly admitting, "Well, if I had to pick, I kind of wish it was Wooyoung," He grinned, nudging you playfully, "Ah, so you've got a soft spot for the baseball club president, huh?"
You blushed even deeper and playfully swatted his arm.
"Don't tease me, it's just a silly crush. I doubt he's the secret admirer anyway," His smile was warm as he ruffled your hair, "You never know, silly. Sometimes, the person you least expect can surprise you."
After your admission about your crush on Wooyoung and Mingi's continuous teasing that lasted for days, the gifts and notes from your secret admirer strangely stopped. It was as if someone had flipped a switch, and your daily bright spots had disappeared. You had grown so accustomed to the surprises that you now felt like everything was going wrong without them.
One day, as you sat in an empty classroom after school, fulfilling your cleaning duty, you couldn't shake off the feeling of disappointment. You missed the small gestures of kindness that had brightened your days.
It was a particularly gloomy afternoon, you couldn't help but mope.
But your already sour mood took a nosedive when the last person you wanted to see made an unexpected appearance in the classroom. San strolled in with an arrogant smirk, clearly relishing the opportunity to get under your skin.
"Aww, still pouting because your secret admirer ditched you?" He taunted, leaning casually against a desk.
You tried to ignore him, focusing on your cleaning duties, but his relentless teasing was beginning to wear on your nerves. He continued to make snide remarks about your admirer, insinuating that you might have been sending the gifts and notes to yourself just to create the illusion that someone would like you.
"Are you sure you didn't send yourself all those things just to make yourself look desirable? I mean, who in their right mind would even like you enough to do all this?"
Each of his words stung like a needle, and you clenched your fists in frustration. You had no idea why your secret admirer had suddenly stopped, but the insinuation that you were faking it only fueled your irritation.
Finally, you couldn't hold back any longer.
Turning to face him, you snapped, "You know, San, not everything revolves around you and your constant need to belittle others. Just because you can't stand the thought of someone being nice to me doesn't mean you have to make up stories to feel better about yourself."
His smirk faltered for a moment as he realised the depth of your anger. You had rarely spoken up to him in such a manner, and it took him by surprise. Before he could respond, you turned away and focused on finishing your cleaning duties.
The emptiness in your heart weighed heavily on you, and you wondered why your secret admirer had disappeared and whether you would ever find out the truth.
As you continued to clean the classroom, feeling down after your encounter with San, you didn't expect anyone else to notice your mood.
But as you were lost in your thoughts, you suddenly heard a familiar voice calling out your name.
"Hey, are you okay?"
You turned to see Wooyoung standing in the doorway, concern evident in his eyes. He had apparently noticed your sombre expression and had come to check on you.
You managed a weak smile, not wanting to burden him with your troubles, "I'm fine, Woo. Just a bit tired, that's all." He didn't seem convinced but respected your response.
Instead, he offered, "Well, how about we grab some ice cream after this? It might help brighten your day." The offer caught you by surprise, and you felt a glimmer of hope. Ice cream sounded like a perfect way to lift your spirits.
You nodded in agreement, "Sure, that sounds nice."
As you walked to the nearby ice cream shop after school, Wooyoung did his best to engage you in conversation, trying to cheer you up. His genuine concern and friendly demeanour made you feel a bit better, but you couldn't shake off the nagging thought about your secret admirer.
Sitting in the ice cream parlour, you stared at him as he talked animatedly about various topics, you wondered if he could be the secret admirer. The thought played like a broken record in your mind.
Part of you wanted to ask him why he had stopped the gifts.
But the logical part of your brain reminded you that it couldn't possibly be Wooyoung. If he were the one behind the thoughtful gestures, he wouldn't be here with you right now, trying to cheer you up in person.
So, you pushed aside your doubts and worries, allowing yourself to enjoy the moment with him. As you savoured the sweet taste of your ice cream, you appreciated his kindness and friendship, even if the mystery of your secret admirer remained unsolved.
After your outing with the baseball club president, you found yourself pondering your feelings and the mystery of your secret admirer even more. The conflicting emotions swirling within you left you feeling confused and unsettled.
Unable to contain your thoughts any longer, you decided to confide in Mingi. As you both sat in his bedroom, you opened up about your feelings regarding Wooyoung and the secret admirer.
"Mingi, I just don't understand," You began, your voice tinged with uncertainty, "I've been so fixated on this secret admirer, but I really like Wooyoung. He's caring, attentive, and he's been there for me. So why do I feel so sad about the gifts and notes stopping?"
Mingi regarded you thoughtfully before gently pointing out.
"It sounds like you're describing two different people. If you like Wooyoung and he's been caring towards you, then shouldn't that be enough? Why does it matter if the secret admirer stopped?"
His words struck a chord, and you realised he was right.
Why were you so bothered by the absence of your secret admirer when you believed it to be Wooyoung all along? Did you secretly wish it were someone else? Had your feelings for Wooyoung not been as strong as you thought?
You let out a deep sigh, feeling the weight of your conflicting emotions, "I don't know. Maybe I got carried away with the idea of a secret admirer, it shouldn't diminish what I feel for Wooyoung."
Mingi nodded in understanding, his expression gentle.
"Exactly, buttercup. You don't need a secret admirer to validate your worth or the kindness Wooyoung has shown you. Sometimes, our own expectations and fantasies can cloud our feelings."
Reflecting on Mingi's words, you realised that your fixation on the secret admirer had indeed overshadowed your true feelings for Wooyoung. It was time to appreciate the genuine connection you had with him and let go of the mystery that had consumed your thoughts for so long.
As you decided to let go of the idea of the secret admirer and focus on your budding relationship with Wooyoung, life seemed to return to normal. You enjoyed the time you spent with him, cherishing his caring gestures and the genuine connection you shared.
But one day, as you sat in the school cafeteria with Mingi, you expressed your frustration, "Ugh, can you believe it? They've run out of my favourite chocolate milk again. It's like they do it on purpose."
Mingi sympathetically patted your shoulder, "I know. It's their conspiracy against you, clearly."
After lunch, you returned to your desk in the classroom, expecting another mundane afternoon. But as you opened your bag, you let out a gasp of surprise. There it was, a carton of your beloved chocolate milk, sitting neatly on your desk.
Mingi's eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the milk, then at you.
"It's happening again!"
You were equally shocked, your heart racing with a mixture of excitement and curiosity.
The return of your secret admirer was unexpected, and you wondered who could be behind it. Picking up the carton of milk and examining it, you find a familiar note attached. It simply read, "I thought this might make your day better."
The mystery had resurfaced, and you exchanged puzzled glances with Mingi. It seemed that your secret admirer was back, and you couldn't wait to uncover the truth behind these thoughtful gestures once and for all.
As the days went by, you noticed that Choi San seemed to be everywhere lately.
It was as if he had suddenly taken an interest in your daily activities. He would pop up in unexpected places, finding clever ways to get your attention, though his teasing had taken on a different tone.
His jokes had shifted from being insulting to more lighthearted and harmless. While you still found yourself annoyed by his constant presence, you couldn't deny that his newfound playfulness was less aggravating than before.
Despite your long-standing rivalry and the initial bad impression you had of each other, you noticed that San's behaviour had changed. He was no longer the relentless tormentor but rather someone who seemed to enjoy engaging with you in a teasing, albeit less hostile, manner.
You found yourself in an odd position.
While you didn't exactly hate him as much as you used to, the memories of your first encounters and the rivalry that had defined your relationship still lingered. It was hard to completely let your guard down around him, even though his intentions appeared to have shifted in a more positive direction.
As you navigate this newfound dynamic with San, you wonder if there was more to his change in behaviour. Was it possible that he had also grown tired of the constant rivalry and had decided to take a different approach in your interactions?
The uncertainty only added to the intrigue of the situation, leaving you both baffled and intrigued by his unexpected transformation.
One afternoon, you found yourself in the library, engrossed in a study session with Wooyoung. The two of you had been diligently working on your assignments and preparing for upcoming exams. The peaceful atmosphere of the library was perfect, and you were grateful for the club president's presence.
But your concentration was disrupted when you noticed San approaching your table. He wore an unhappy expression, and you grumbled in annoyance at his sudden, unwanted presence.
"Hey, Woo," San said with feigned nonchalance, "Mind if I hang out with you guys for a bit?"
Wooyoung, always the peacemaker, smiled and gestured to an empty chair, "Of course, Sannie. Join us. But please, be nice to her."
San acted as if he reluctantly accepted the invitation.
In between your study session, Wooyoung received an urgent phone call that required his immediate attention. He apologised for having to leave and promised to return as soon as he could.
You sighed as Wooyoung left, knowing that you were now alone with San. You asked, "Why are you still here, San? You said you wanted to hang out with Wooyoung," He shrugged, feigning indifference, "Well, I also need to study, you know. Can't be slacking off all the time."
You rolled your eyes, sceptical of his true intentions.
"Fine, whatever. Just don't disturb me."
As you continued to work on your assignments, you came across a particularly challenging math problem that left you frustrated.
San, who had been quietly studying himself, noticed your struggle. Surprisingly, he leaned over and said, "You know, I'm pretty good at math. Need some help?"
You were taken aback by his offer, not expecting such a gesture from someone you had considered your rival for so long. After a moment of hesitation, you reluctantly agreed.
"Okay, fine. Help me with this one."
His explanation turned out to be clear and concise, and you couldn't help but acknowledge that he was indeed skilled in math.
As he helped you in solving the problem, you thought to yourself that maybe he wasn't as unpleasant as you had initially thought. It seemed like he still had the capacity to be a decent person when he chose to be.
The following day, you sat alone in school as the rain poured outside, your chances of staying dry were dwindling rapidly.
Wooyoung was absent, and Mingi had to leave school early for a family emergency, leaving you to face the downpour alone. To make matters worse, you had forgotten your umbrella and raincoat again, a rookie mistake that left you feeling like a complete idiot.
You sighed deeply, hoping against hope that the rain would subside, but it only grew heavier as the minutes passed. After waiting for over an hour, you realised you couldn't stay in school forever.
With a resigned determination, you wrapped your arms around yourself and braced for the inevitable.
Running out into the torrential rain, you were immediately drenched, and your vision blurred as the water streamed down your face. It was a miserable situation, and you cursed your bad luck.
Like the idiot you were, you ended up tripping over something on the ground, scraping your knee painfully on the wet pavement. The pain was sharp, and you couldn't hold back the tears that welled up in your eyes.
You've got to be kidding me, can this day get any worse?
As you sat there in the pouring rain, nursing your injured knee, a shadow appeared in front of you. An umbrella was unfurled above your drenched body, shielding you from the relentless rain, and a hand was extended toward you.
You looked up in surprise, your vision still blurred by raindrops, and to your astonishment, it was San who stood before you.
The last person you expected to come to your aid.
"Need some help?" He asked, his voice surprisingly gentle.
You hesitated for a moment, torn between your ingrained rivalry and your need for assistance. But the pain in your knee and the relentless downpour pushed you to accept his help.
You reached out and took his hand, allowing him to help you up from the wet ground.
As you stood under the umbrella he provided, you felt a strange mixture of gratitude and disbelief because it was San, of all people, who had come to your rescue in your moment of need.
He walked you to the nearest bus stop, offering some protection against the relentless rain. Surprisingly, he was gentle as he helped you sit down and examine your scraped knee. You instinctively pulled away, insisting that you were fine, but he was undeterred.
He knelt down beside you, a look of genuine concern in his eyes.
The sight of him worrying and caring about you was so foreign that you wondered if this was the same Choi San you had known all along.
"Let me take a look." He said softly, reaching out to inspect your scraped knee.
Reluctantly, you allowed him to examine the injury.
He was surprisingly gentle, his touch careful to avoid causing you any more pain. It was a stark contrast to the way he had treated you in the past, and it left you feeling perplexed.
San reached into his bag and pulled out a bandaid, holding it up for you to see, "I always carry a few of these just in case." He explained.
You watched as he helped you apply the bandaid, his actions careful and considerate. Despite your reservations and the history of animosity between you, there was no denying that his concern was genuine.
Looking at him more closely now, you never fully appreciated how handsome San truly was. His slightly damp hair from the rain, coupled with the intense look of concentration on his face as he tried not to cause you more pain, proved to be more appealing than you had expected.
You couldn't believe this, he was making your heart race.
As he finished applying the bandaid, you wondered who this person was and what he had done to the real Choi San.
The conflicting emotions within you made it clear that things were far from simple, and you found yourself questioning your long-held animosity towards him.
After the unexpected kindness from San during the rainstorm and the way he had treated you lately, you felt confused and conflicted. It was a stark departure from the rivalry and animosity that had defined your relationship for so long.
Seeking some perspective, you decided to talk to Mingi about the vice president's sudden change in attitude. As you both lounged in your favourite spot in the school courtyard, you hesitantly broached the topic.
"Mingi, have you noticed how different San has been lately?" You asked, trying to make sense of your feelings.
Your best friend, ever the optimist, offered a reassuring smile.
"Maybe he's just grown tired of the rivalry too, buttercup. People change, you know? Perhaps he's realised that it's best to act civil and put the past behind us."
While Mingi's words were comforting, you still struggled with your emotions. The disdain you had for San had been ingrained in you for so long that accepting his sudden kindness and change of heart was a challenge.
A small part of you resented him for making you feel this way, for shaking the foundation of your long-held beliefs about him.
It was difficult to let go of the past and embrace the possibility of a different relationship with someone you had considered your rival for so long.
A small part of you worried about the possible evil intentions behind his change. The uncertainty left you feeling torn between your deep-seated animosity and the possibility of a new beginning.
As time went on, you continued to receive more and more endearing gifts from your secret admirer. The notes accompanying these gifts became sweeter with each passing day, and it was clear that this mystery person knew you well.
The thoughtful gestures brought a smile to your face, brightening your days and making you feel cherished.
Oddly enough, the timing of these gifts seemed to align with Wooyoung's actions in a way that left you wondering. Many of the surprises were things that he had observed you enjoying or had casually mentioned in conversation.
As a result, rumours began to circulate among your classmates, and the popular theory was that the baseball club president was your secret admirer.
The idea filled you with hope and a flutter of excitement.
The thought that Wooyoung might be the one behind these gestures made your heart race, and you couldn't help but imagine a future where you could be with him.
However, amid this whirlwind of gifts and speculations, San's behaviour remained an enigma.
He was still working on redeeming himself in your eyes, often intervening whenever you and Wooyoung seemed to get closer. It was as if he couldn't stand the thought of you and his best friend becoming a couple.
His actions left you perplexed.
You wondered what had prompted his newfound determination to change. The more he tried to insert himself into your life, the more it fueled your curiosity about the true nature of his intentions.
As the days passed, you found yourself caught between the allure of the secret admirer's gifts and the complicated dynamics between you, Wooyoung, and San. The mysteries and complexities of your high school life continued to unfold, leaving you in a state of both excitement and confusion.
Today, you were on a school trip to the museum for the history class.
The class was filled with a sense of anticipation and curiosity that seemed to revolve around you and Wooyoung.
Everyone around you, including Mingi, seemed to be paying close attention to your interactions with the baseball club president. It was as if they were fully convinced that he was your secret admirer.
You hadn't exactly been oblivious to the little squeals your classmates would occasionally let out whenever Wooyoung did something sweet, like draping his blazer over you when it was cold or taking his time to patiently explain what you didn't understand as you walked through the exhibit together.
San, on the other hand, trailed behind the crowd with a sour expression.
The vice president of the baseball club disliked the sight of you and his best friend getting so close. The rumours and speculations had reached their peak, and he couldn't hide his frustration.
When the group settled down for lunch at the museum cafe, you found yourself sitting with Wooyoung, Mingi, and a few other members of the baseball club.
San, unfortunately, had no choice but to mix with other classmates since your table was already full.
During the meal, your friends couldn't resist teasing the club president about his attentiveness to you, jokingly asking when he was going to reveal himself as the secret admirer. Wooyoung blushed from the teasing, and you stared at him, curiosity and anticipation building within you.
With a slight smile, Wooyoung bit his lip and locked eyes with you.
"Must I be the secret admirer for you to like me?" He asked, his voice soft but filled with a hint of vulnerability, "What if I tell you, I'm not that person?"
The revelation hung in the air, leaving everyone at the table shocked and speechless. You, in particular, felt overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events. You had been so convinced that he was your secret admirer, and now it seemed that the truth was something entirely different.
The mystery had deepened, and you were left wondering who could be behind the thoughtful gifts and gestures that had captured your heart.
As the shock of Wooyoung's revelation settled in, you felt a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts swirling within you. It was a perplexing mix of confusion, disappointment, and self-reflection.
Initially, you had been so convinced that Wooyoung was your secret admirer, and the prospect of that idea had excited you to no end.
But now, faced with the truth that he wasn't the one behind the anonymous gifts and sweet notes, you found yourself questioning why you had been so upset.
You realised that you had allowed your feelings for Wooyoung to become entangled with the idea of him being the secret admirer. It was as if you had equated your affection for him with the mysterious gestures and thoughtfulness of the anonymous person.
In reality, your crush on Wooyoung had been based on his kind actions and his charming personality, not on the deep connection that you thought you had developed because of the secret admirer's gestures.
Deep down, you couldn't deny that you felt a stronger connection to the secret admirer, as it seemed like this person knew you better than anyone else.
The gifts and notes had felt personal as if they were tailored to your likes and preferences. It made you question the authenticity of your feelings for Wooyoung, realising that they might have been built on a more superficial foundation.
As you grappled with these conflicting emotions, you told yourself that your feelings for Wooyoung should be independent and not dependent on what the secret admirer did or didn't do.
Wooyoung was, after all, his own person and your feelings for him should be based on who he was, not on the anonymous acts of kindness that had momentarily clouded your judgement.
After a moment of silence that seemed to weigh heavily on both of you, you could see a slight hint of disappointment in his eyes.
You couldn't let this moment pass without addressing his question.
"I'm sorry, Woo," You began, your voice soft and apologetic, "I do like you, I really do. But I need to find out who the person behind the anonymous gifts and notes is first, it's important to me."
His expression shifted, and he forced a smile, "I understand," He replied, his voice filled with understanding, "Take your time. I'll be here, waiting for your answer."
Mingi, who had been quietly observing the exchange, sensed your discomfort and decided to step in. He offered his gratitude to Wooyoung for taking care of you so far and claimed that he would take over looking out for you after lunch.
The tension in the air seemed to dissipate.
You were grateful for the understanding and support of both Wooyoung and Mingi. It was a complicated situation, but you were determined to unravel the mystery of your secret admirer and figure out where your heart truly belonged.
As the teacher continued explaining the historical artefacts at the museum, you found it increasingly difficult to focus.
Your mind was still trying to digest the fact that Wooyoung was not your secret admirer, and the revelation had left you feeling somewhat distracted.
Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly felt a presence beside you.
It was San, and he couldn't resist teasing you for not paying attention. His playful jab was enough to snap you out of your trance, and he challenged you to a quiz to see who could answer more questions correctly.
At first, you hesitated, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by the recent turn of events.
However, his persistence and friendly competitiveness eventually won you over. You accepted his challenge, and together, you both started paying closer attention to the teacher's explanations.
As the quiz progressed, you found yourself engaged and focused, eager to prove your knowledge. San's enthusiasm and determination were contagious, and he pushed you to think critically about the artefacts and their historical significance.
In the end, the quiz ended in a draw, with both of you answering an impressive number of questions correctly.
You were touched by his effort to help you get back on track and stay engaged in the lesson. It was a small gesture, but it made you realise that maybe, just maybe, your rivalry could turn into something different.
The bus ride back to school after the museum trip had ended found you somehow seated in the final row between Wooyoung and San. Mingi couldn't resist throwing you sly glances, wiggling his brows in a playful manner. You scoffed and rolled your eyes at his antics, trying your best to ignore him.
As the journey continued, the rhythmic motion of the bus and the hum of the engine started to lull you to sleep.
Your eyelids grew heavy, and soon enough, your head swayed and landed on Wooyoung's shoulder, causing a few students to let out affectionate coos at the sight.
San, however, had other plans.
He gently moved your head from Wooyoung's shoulder over to his own, a small, smug smile playing on his lips as he watched you unconsciously snuggle closer to him.
Mingi, sitting nearby, widened his eyes at the unexpected turn of events, making a mental note to tell you about this later.
Wooyoung, on the other hand, looked away and focused his gaze out the window, his expression unreadable but clearly upset. It seemed like both San and Wooyoung were having an internal battle between themselves, each trying to win your attention and affection in their own way.
The tension between the two of them simmered beneath the surface, creating an unspoken rivalry that was beginning to take a toll on their friendship.
In the days following the museum trip, Wooyoung seemed to sense your need for some space and gave you a bit of room to sort through your feelings and thoughts.
The revelation that he wasn't your secret admirer had left you somewhat confused, and you found yourself wanting to uncover the mystery more than ever.
Mingi, always full of wild ideas, suggested that it could be San who was behind the anonymous gifts, especially considering his recent drastic change in behaviour toward you.
It wasn't entirely impossible, but you couldn't bring yourself to believe it.
After all, the gifts had started arriving when you and San were still rivals, and he had even mocked you for receiving them, insinuating that you might be sending them to yourself. The idea that he could be your secret admirer just didn't add up in your mind, and you were adamant that it couldn't be him.
There's no way in hell it could be Choi San.
As you sat alone on the bleachers one day, deep in thought, San suddenly appeared beside you, holding a carton of your favourite chocolate milk.
Your eyes widened in surprise.
The chocolate milk had become a special symbol of your connection with the secret admirer, and it left you wondering how San could possibly know about it.
He offered you the carton with a casual smile, his gaze meeting yours as if he had something important to say. The puzzle pieces in your mind began to shift.
Holy crap, could he be..?
"I found this on your desk, I'm guessing your secret admirer must have left it there." You let out a sigh of relief, realising that, of course, he couldn't have been the one behind this gesture.
He was just being friendly and helpful.
As he settled down beside you, he noticed the contemplative expression on your face and asked, "What's on your mind?"
You wondered when it had all begun, this change in his demeanour towards you. He was treating you so casually, almost like friends, and it left you both intrigued and perplexed.
But you chose not to voice your thoughts out loud, not wanting to risk a quarrel with him.
Instead, you decided to be honest and opened up about your problem with the secret admirer, "It's the thing with my secret admirer... It sucks but it bothers me that it isn't Wooyoung. I just can't figure out why I'm so disappointed by the truth. I guess I just... really wanted it to be him."
To your surprise, San offered you genuine advice.
"If you're disappointed that it's not Wooyoung," He began, "Maybe it's because he's not the one you truly like. Perhaps it's the secret admirer that you really want to be with."
His words struck a chord with you, and you couldn't help but ponder them. His insights were unexpected, and you found yourself considering whether your feelings for Wooyoung had been based on the wrong foundation all along.
It was a moment of introspection that left you with more questions than answers, but at least now, you had someone to discuss them with.
"Tell you what, I'll help you find out who this mysterious person is."
San's willingness to help you figure out the identity of your secret admirer took you by surprise. After all, it was San who had initially ridiculed you for receiving these anonymous gifts and had even been quite mean about it.
You expressed your genuine astonishment, turning to him with wide eyes, "You're really willing to help me with this?" You asked, still somewhat taken aback by his sudden change of heart.
He looked at you, his expression softening with a touch of guilt.
He admitted, "I shouldn't have said those mean words back then. I didn't mean them, and I wish I could take them back if it were possible."
His sincere apology caught you off guard, and you could see the regret in his eyes. You appreciated his honesty and his willingness to make amends, and you were thankful for his apology.
With San by your side, offering to help uncover the mystery of your secret admirer, you wondered if there was more to him than the rivalry that had defined your relationship until now. It was a surprising turn of events, and you were beginning to see a different side of him—one that left you curious and intrigued.
"Hey, San. Be honest with me, why the sudden change in attitude?"
Your curiosity got the better of you, and you finally mustered the courage to address the elephant in the room.
You observed him closely as you posed the question, watching as he attempted to keep his facial expression neutral. It was clear that he was holding back a lot when he finally answered.
"I guess I just... realised how childish I'd been the whole time," He began, his voice measured, "And I grew tired of all the unnecessary fighting between us. I also should've said this earlier but I... I'm really sorry for the way I've acted in the past, I know I was a complete jerk."
His words seemed plausible, but there was something in his eyes that suggested there might be more to the story. It wasn't entirely the truth, but you chose not to press further, not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable.
Instead, you accepted his explanation and appreciated his efforts to change for the better. It was a step towards building a more cordial relationship, and you were willing to see where it would lead.
As he had promised, he diligently assisted you in unravelling the mystery of your secret admirer. Consequently, the two of you ended up spending more time together than initially anticipated, and through this process, you gained a deeper understanding of him.
You came to recognise that when San set his mind to it, he could be just as caring and attentive as Wooyoung.
At this point, you had lost track of how many times he had managed to evoke emotions in you that you had once believed only his best friend could elicit.
The Choi San you now knew was a stark departure from the person you had first encountered, but you had no complaints about the transformation.
It wasn't until that one fateful day that you truly grasped the depth of your feelings for him.
'Hey buttercup, soz I can't walk home with you today. Got a meeting with my project groupmates, I'll see you at dinner tonight.' - Princess Minki💕
As you prepared to leave school, a sigh escaped your lips upon receiving Mingi's text about his meeting with his project groupmates, you resigned yourself to the idea of walking home alone. You didn't want to bother Wooyoung since he had been giving you space lately.
However, to your surprise, when you reached the school gates, you found San standing there, waiting.
You blinked in confusion, "San? Why are you here?"
He smiled, "I'm waiting for you. I saw Mingi leaving with his groupmates, so I thought I'd wait and walk you home."
Your heart did a little flip at his unexpected kindness, "Oh, you really don't have to do that," You said, genuinely touched by his gesture. But he insisted, his tone firm, "I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you while you walked home alone. It's the least I can do."
With a grateful smile, you nodded, feeling a warmth in your chest at the realisation that perhaps your relationship with San was slowly evolving into something more.
During your walk home with him, every step seemed to resonate with a sense of closeness that went beyond mere friendship.
The world around you faded into insignificance as he held the umbrella over both of you, sheltering you from the gentle drizzle that had started. The soft pattering of raindrops on the umbrella's surface created a soothing backdrop to your conversation.
His attention to detail was astonishing, like the way he would glance at you out of the corner of his eye when he thought you weren't looking, his gaze filled with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine.
Each shared joke felt like a secret shared between the two of you, a bond that was growing stronger with every laugh.
And when your bag slipped from your shoulder, hitting the ground with a thud, you expected to bend down to pick it up yourself, but before you could react, he had already swooped down to retrieve it for you.
His act of chivalry caught you off guard, making your heart skip a beat. It was these seemingly insignificant moments that left you questioning the nature of your feelings.
As your steps echoed in rhythm with his, you felt a magnetic pull towards him, and your thoughts began to revolve around this unexpected connection that was steadily blossoming between you two.
Without realising it, your focus gradually shifted entirely to San when you were with him. Unlike with Wooyoung, your thoughts no longer wandered to the mysterious secret admirer.
He had a unique way of capturing your full attention, and you found yourself drawn to him in a way you hadn't expected. It was a surprising development that left you in a state of denial about the butterflies he was stirring in your heart.
As you neared your home, engrossed in a conversation with him, you didn't notice the car that swerved dangerously close to the sidewalk. It happened in the blink of an eye, and before you could even react, San sprang into immediate action.
"Watch out!"
In an instant, he had wrapped his arms around you, shielding you from the potential crash.
Time seemed to slow down as you felt his strong, protective embrace. Your heart pounded in your chest, and the world around you blurred into insignificance as you found yourself pressed against his chest.
Once the danger had passed, you slowly pulled away, your breaths coming in shallow gasps.
You stared up at San, your eyes wide with a mixture of emotions. At first, you had feared for his safety, but now, as you gazed into his eyes, you felt your heart racing for an entirely different reason.
His eyes locked with yours, so full of emotion that it left you breathless. It was as if he had been so afraid of you being in harm's way, and that depth of concern was something you had never expected.
At that moment, everything seemed to change between you.
The world around you regained its focus, and you realised that you were still standing on the sidewalk, in the arms of the person who had just saved you from potential danger.
It was a powerful, intense moment that left your heart racing and your mind in turmoil as you tried to make sense of the emotions swirling within you.
The next morning, as you walked to school with Mingi, your heart was still racing from the previous day's encounter with San. The memory of his protective embrace and the intense moment that had followed played over and over in your mind.
As you approached the school gates, you scanned the crowd, looking for any sign of San.
It was almost as if your subconscious was seeking out his presence. And then, like a scene from a movie, you spotted him coming your way from the opposite direction.
Your breath caught in your throat as he drew closer, a warm smile spreading across his face, "Good morning." He greeted you, his voice friendly and genuine.
"Morning." You managed to reply, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.
San continued on his way, walking alongside Wooyoung, who had been right beside him the entire time. It was at that moment that you realised something shocking: you hadn't even noticed Wooyoung's presence until now.
The realisation hit you like a truck.
It wasn't Wooyoung who had occupied your thoughts, even when he was right next to San. It was San himself who had captured your attention, making you question your feelings and priorities.
You couldn't pinpoint exactly when it all started, but the vice president of the baseball club had somehow become a constant presence in your thoughts. And you had lost track of how many times your heart had fluttered just from catching a glimpse of him.
Almost everything seemed to trigger thoughts of San, and you now realise that these were reactions even Wooyoung couldn't elicit from you during the time you were crushing on him.
Mingi observed you quietly, having heard about what had happened with San the previous day.
He chose to remain silent, knowing that you needed time and space to process your thoughts and emotions. As your best friend, he wanted you to find clarity in your feelings, whatever they may be.
As you entered the classroom with Mingi, your eyes were immediately drawn to your desk, where your favourite chocolate milk sat, accompanied by the usual heartfelt note.
But this time, the note held a surprise.
It didn't contain the usual sweet message; instead, it instructed you to meet up on the rooftop during lunch break.
Your heart raced as you read the note, your eyes widening in astonishment. Your secret admirer was finally revealing themselves, taking the first step towards unveiling their identity.
You couldn't believe it was happening, and a sense of excitement mixed with nervousness coursed through you.
Showing the note to Mingi, you both exchanged wide-eyed glances, realising that the moment you had been waiting for had finally arrived.
It should have filled you with happiness, but deep down, a conflicted feeling gnawed at your heart. You couldn't believe that, despite all your initial reluctance, you found yourself secretly wishing that your secret admirer would turn out to be San.
Everything about him screamed that he couldn't possibly be the one behind the anonymous gifts and sweet notes.
But as determination welled up within you, you considered the possibility of rejecting your secret admirer, someone you had admired from a distance, in favour of someone you had never imagined having feelings for; San.
The thought left you grappling with a whirlwind of emotions as you prepared for the lunchtime rendezvous on the rooftop, unsure of what lay ahead.
The rest of the morning went by in a blur, you hadn't even the slightest clue what Mr. Kim had taught you all in class.
"You can do this, buttercup!"
Mingi encourages, pulling you in for a quick hug before he pushes you towards the staircase leading up to the school rooftop.
Anxiety gripped your heart as you made your way up to the rooftop, each step echoing your pounding heartbeat. You couldn't believe the moment had finally arrived to meet the person who had been behind all the gifts and notes that had brightened your days for the past few months.
Your mind raced with questions, doubts, and a flutter of hope.
As you reached the rooftop door, you hesitated for a moment before pushing it open. The anticipation in the air was palpable, and you could hardly contain the whirlwind of emotions churning inside you.
Your heart nearly stopped when you stepped onto the rooftop, your eyes falling upon the back of a familiar figure.
A sense of suspense hung heavy in the air, and you couldn't bring yourself to move or speak just yet. The person slowly turned around, and as their face came into view, your heart sank.
It was... Wooyoung.
Your disappointment was palpable as you uttered, "Oh, it's you," in a tone that betrayed your shattered expectations. You couldn't control your reaction, and it hurt to know that it wasn't the person you had secretly hoped for.
Unfortunately for you, Wooyoung had seen your reaction clearly.
He smiled sadly, a mixture of understanding and acceptance in his eyes. He had come here not to reveal himself as your secret admirer but to confirm that you didn't return his feelings so that he could finally move on.
Realising that you had hurt him with your reaction, you immediately apologised, "God, I'm so sorry, Woo. I didn't mean to sound disappointed."
Wooyoung's smile remained gentle as he reassured you, "It's fine, really. I understand."
He took a step closer to you and spoke softly, "But I think you should know that I'm not the one who has been sending you those gifts and notes."
Confusion and curiosity washed over you as you turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest, "Then who is it?" You asked, unable to hide the eagerness in your voice.
Wooyoung smiled once more, but this time, his gaze drifted past you, "Your secret admirer is standing right behind you."
Your heart raced as you turned around slowly, each second feeling like an eternity as you wished desperately for it to be the person you'd come to secretly hope for.
Suspense hung in the air, almost suffocating, as you finally set your eyes on the figure standing there.
And then, you saw him.
Choi San.
Your heart soared at the sight of him, holding a bouquet of your favourite flowers in his hands. His smile was so sweet that it melted your heart, and you couldn't believe the person you had once despised could be your secret admirer.
Wooyoung, having fulfilled his own purpose, discreetly left you two alone for some privacy.
San walked up to you slowly, a playful "surprise" escaping his lips as he presented the bouquet to you. You accepted it shyly, your fingers brushing against the delicate petals, but you couldn't help the flood of questions that overwhelmed your mind.
Sitting together on the bench on the rooftop, you looked at him with a mixture of astonishment and confusion, "Is this some kind of prank?" You asked cautiously, your guard still up despite the sincerity in his eyes.
He shook his head gently, his gaze unwavering, "No, I promise you, this is not a prank," He assured you softly, his eyes locked with yours, "It really has been me all this time."
A wave of disbelief washed over you.
The person who had once been your rival, who had teased and challenged you relentlessly, was the same person who had been secretly showing you kindness and affection.
The contrast was staggering.
As you looked into his eyes, you couldn't believe how you had misunderstood him for so long, and why he had chosen to hide his true feelings behind the guise of a secret admirer.
There were so many questions, but one thing was clear: your perception of Choi San was about to change in ways you couldn't have imagined.
It was time to clear the air, to understand the mystery behind the secret admirer you had come to appreciate and admire, "Okay," You began, your voice tinged with scepticism, "You need to explain everything, from the beginning. How did this all start?"
San sighed, his eyes focused on the ground for a moment before meeting yours with a hint of regret.
"I guess it all started on that first day," He confessed, "It's true that I was having a really bad day when you bumped into me, I was actually going to apologise for being rude. But then you responded with so much feistiness that it intrigued me. I've never met a girl as gutsy as you, and I found it... attractive."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, "Wait, you found it attractive when I fought back?"
He chuckled, a faint blush colouring his cheeks.
"Yeah, I did. I was disappointed when you didn't react the way I expected during your first visit to the baseball club. I thought you'd fight back, but you left so timidly. So, I decided to ignore you the next time I saw you, hoping it would get a reaction out of you."
Your mind was reeling from this revelation.
The rivalry between you two had been initiated because he enjoyed seeing you argue back. It was a strange reason, but it explained a lot about his behaviour.
"So, you admired me because of our arguments?"
He nodded, a sheepish smile playing on his lips, "Yes, I admired your spirit and intelligence. But I also realised I couldn't express my admiration openly because of our rivalry. So, I chose to become your secret admirer."
You laughed at the irony of it all, "Wow, this is so unexpected. I thought you just enjoyed tormenting me," He grinned, a glint of mischief in his eyes, "Well, that was part of it. But there's more to it than just that."
As you continued to talk, you realised that the person you had once viewed as your rival had harboured feelings of admiration and attraction towards you all along.
San shifted uncomfortably on the bench, his expression more serious now, "There's... something else too." He began, his gaze fixed on the bouquet of flowers you held.
Your curiosity was piqued once again, "What is it?"
Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I... I know I stopped leaving you the notes and gifts at some point." You immediately knew what he was referring to, remembering how upset you had been.
He glanced at you, his eyes filled with a hint of remorse, "It was around the time I overheard Mingi teasing you about your crush on Wooyoung. It saddened me because I thought maybe it was time for you to focus on being with him."
You furrowed your brow, surprised by this revelation, "You stopped because of that?"
He nodded, his expression conflicted, "Yes. I didn't want to stand in the way of you and Wooyoung, especially since he's my best friend."
His lips curled into a small, self-deprecating smile, "And that's where I messed up. I thought it was a selfless act, but then I saw how upset you were at the absence of the gifts, and I decided to tease you about it. I wanted to see your reaction, and that's when I realised I really hurt your feelings."
Your eyes widened as you recalled that particular encounter, "I was genuinely angry that day," He nodded, his gaze downcast, "I deserved it. I realised that's not how you treat someone you like."
You both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his confession sinking in. It all made sense now, that was the point when he had suddenly started being nicer to you.
It was clear that San had been struggling with his feelings and the situation had become even more complicated when he saw you growing closer to Wooyoung, just like everyone else, believing he was your secret admirer.
The jealousy he had felt was something he hadn't expected.
"But... why didn't you just talk to me about your feelings?" You finally asked, your voice soft. He sighed, his shoulders slumping, "I guess I was scared. Scared that if I revealed everything, I might lose our friendship, and I couldn't bear the thought of that."
You reached out and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "San, you don't have to be scared anymore. We can figure this out together."
He looked up at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of relief and gratitude, "Thank you for understanding."
With your newfound understanding, you both continued your conversation, unravelling the complexities of your relationship and the unexpected twists and turns that had brought you to this moment.
The rooftop seemed to hold its breath as you absorbed all that San had shared with you.
The weight of the past few months, the ups and downs, the misunderstandings, and the revelations hung in the air. It was as though a puzzle had finally been pieced together, and you could see the bigger picture clearly now.
As you took a deep breath, you noticed that San was fidgeting, his gaze shifting between your eyes and the ground. There was something he needed to say or do, and the anticipation gnawed at you.
Finally, you couldn't contain your curiosity any longer.
"San," You began gently, "Is there something else on your mind?"
He looked up, meeting your eyes with a mixture of nervousness and determination. His voice was a bit shaky as he spoke, "Actually, there's one more thing I need to ask."
Your heart raced as you waited for him to continue, wondering what else could possibly be left unsaid after everything you'd discussed.
With a deep breath, he scooted closer to you, his eyes locking onto yours, "I've liked you for a long time now, and I've realised that I don't want to hide it anymore. I want to be with you. So, um... Would you be willing to be my girlfriend?"
Your breath caught in your throat, your heart pounding loudly in your chest.
This was the moment you had never expected but secretly hoped for. You looked into his earnest eyes, and a warmth spread through you, washing away any lingering doubts or hesitations.
A smile broke across your face, and it was filled with genuine happiness, "Yes, San. I'd love to be your girlfriend."
His expression shifted from nervousness to pure joy, a radiant smile matching yours. He reached for your hand, and you willingly entwined your fingers with his, sealing the moment.
It felt as though the weight of all the misunderstandings, rivalry, and secrets had been lifted, leaving behind a newfound connection and the promise of something beautiful between you and Choi San.
As your hands remained entwined and the smile lingered on your faces, he felt a surge of happiness and anticipation. The rooftop, once a place filled with secrets and uncertainties, was now a witness to the beginning of something new.
He leaned in closer, his heart pounding louder with each inch he closed. The moment felt right, and he was ready to kiss you, to seal this new chapter between you two. But just as he was about to close the gap, you suddenly asked another question, pulling him back from the brink of that sweet, anticipated moment.
"Wait," You said with a curious expression, "So, Wooyoung knew about you being my secret admirer this whole time?"
San blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected interruption. He chuckled at your inquisitiveness, "Well," He began, "Not exactly. He found out on the day of the school trip when my jealousy got the best of me."
You chuckled along with him, realising how strange and tangled the web of emotions and secrets had become. He continued, "We decided to have a fair competition from then on, letting you be the one to choose who you liked more."
Your laughter filled the rooftop as you shook your head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all, "I can't believe all this drama happened behind the scenes."
He grinned, his thumb gently caressing your hand, "Life's full of surprises. But hey, at least it all worked out in the end."
With that, he leaned in once more, and this time, there were no more interruptions. Your lips met, sealing your newfound relationship with a sweet and memorable kiss.
On that rooftop, amidst the laughter and revelations, you and San found the beginning of something beautiful, free from rivalry and filled with the promise of love.
As the days turned into weeks, your relationship with San blossomed, and soon enough, you became the talk of the school.
The first time the students saw you both showing up hand in hand, they gasped in disbelief. Whispers and surprised glances followed your every move. But the attention didn't faze you or San; you were too wrapped up in each other to care.
San became a constant presence in your life.
He'd walk you to your first-period class, bending down to plant a gentle kiss on your lips before heading to his own. During lunch breaks, he'd wait for you patiently, and you'd share meals and laughter with Mingi, whose perpetual presence as the third wheel now felt like an integral part of your daily life.
Wooyoung, once a central figure in your life, gracefully accepted your rejection. He moved on, finding happiness elsewhere, and he was genuinely happy for you and his best friend.
The baseball club's dynamics might have shifted slightly, but it remained as strong as ever, with you visiting occasionally to watch their practices and games.
Your relationship with San brought not only love but also newfound friendships.
San and Mingi grew exceptionally close, despite your boyfriend's initial annoyance at your best friend's constant presence. The two eventually bonded over their shared affection for you and their mutual admiration for each other.
With each passing day, your connection with San deepened, and you found yourself falling in love with him more and more. The days of rivalry were long behind you, replaced by a sweet romance that left you both feeling fortunate to have found each other.
On a bright, sunny afternoon, you and your boyfriend found yourselves on the school rooftop, enjoying a cute little picnic date. The rooftop had become your special spot, a place where you could escape the hustle and bustle of school life and just be together.
As you laid out a checkered blanket, he couldn't resist stealing a sweet kiss from your lips. Your laughter filled the air, and you playfully pushed him away before retreating into his warm embrace.
His fingers gently traced patterns on your arm as he gazed into your eyes, a look of pure adoration on his face.
San, his eyes soft and contemplative, looked out over the campus below before turning his gaze toward you, "You know, I've been thinking... Would you have liked me if I hadn't riled you up so much when we first met?"
Your smile widened as you considered his question.
It was true; your initial encounters with San were filled with endless banter and rivalry. But as you thought back on those moments, you realised something profound.
"Ooh, that's an interesting question. Honestly, a part of me is glad you did. It made your presence known, and, well, quite impactful," He smirked, "Impactful, huh? So, you miss those days of constant teasing and rivalry?"
Your heart skipped a beat as you weighed your response carefully.
The truth was, while those early days had been filled with challenges and unknowing sparks flying between you two, you wouldn't trade the bond you now shared for anything else.
Shaking your head, you responded, "Not at all! I much prefer the sweet boyfriend you are now."
His eyes sparkled with affection as he inched closer to you. He couldn't resist the warmth of your words and the love that radiated from your gaze. Tenderly, he cupped your cheek and pressed a soft kiss to your lips.
"God, I love you so much." He whispered against your lips.
Your heart swelled with happiness, and in that intimate rooftop setting, your love was sealed with a sweet, lingering kiss.
But just as the romantic atmosphere began to envelop you both, a loud groan interrupted your moment, "Jesus Christ! Get a room, you two! We're in school, for Pete's sake!"
You rolled your eyes and snapped your head up to see your best friend standing at the entrance to the rooftop, grinning mischievously despite the complaints as he approached with a familiar carton of your favourite chocolate milk in hand.
"Surprise!" Mingi announced, offering you the coveted treat, "I thought you might want this."
You laughed as you accepted the milk, realising that even on your private date, Mingi managed to insert himself into the picture. It was one of those quirks that made your friendship all the more special.
With the three of you now lounging on the rooftop, surrounded by the warmth of friendship and newfound love, Mingi couldn't help but reflect on how drastically things had changed.
He spoke with a playful tone, "You know, it's kind of funny. You two were literally at each other's throats for as long as I can remember. And now, look at you, all in love with each other."
You and San shared a fond look, both realising that sometimes, the most unexpected journeys lead to the most beautiful destinations. As you cuddled close, basking in the joy of the present moment, you knew that your love story was a testament to the power of change, friendship, and the unexpected.
Your love story had its share of twists and turns, but in the end, it was a tale of two hearts finding their way to each other, against all odds.
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Well damn, this turned out slightly longer than I'd planned.
Anyway, hope y'all liked this! Thank you for reading and as always, I'd love to hear all your thoughts on the story so feel free to leave as many replies as you want! <3
Also, do let me know if you wish to be added to the permanent tag list for all my works (or if you wish to be removed, I'd understand).
Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg
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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.
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archive-z · 14 days ago
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Billy Pilgrim has come unstuck in time or, what was on Daniel Molloy’s bookshelf in 1973?
Inspired by @volkswagonblues’ and @islandbetweeenrivers’ reading list of texts providing historical and cultural context for Daniel Molloy as journalist in the 1970s and 80s
This is, pretty much in its entirety (bar one or two references throughout the show and its extant material), assumptions I’ve made about the character. But, also: it’s my blog so I can do what I want. Dating works is somewhat inconsistent, as I opted for the date a piece was published in a collection or translation rather than when it first appeared in print if it seemed more realistic to have been acquired in that format.
I’ve found the archives of Rolling Stone and Playboy have been helpful in piecing together a who’s who of literary life in the late 1960s and early 1970s, especially for a intellectually precocious teen from suburban Modesto, CA transplanted into the centre of countercultural life in Haight-Ashbury.
From what I can gather, being born in ‘53 means Daniel was just a year shy of being drafted to fight in the Vietnam War, an experience that would have profoundly effected his peers just a year or two older than him. Throughout his teenage years, he’s got the spectre of the possibility of being drafted hanging over his head. It reminds me of pop-inspirational phrases like “you only live once,” which really puts his risk-taking, thrill-seeking behaviour into the perspective of yeah, this is someone who is trying to live life to the fullest every second of every day because the possibility of being drafted means that he might not make it past twenty. (Unfortunately! Louis & Armand also mean he might not make it past twenty either xoxoxo)
However, crucially, he did narrowly miss the draft, and despite that it would be horrible, I think there’s an acute sense of having missed out on this profoundly altering experience as well. Moving to Haight-Ashbury, he’s six years late to the Summer of Love ‘67, and the rose-tinted image of hippies, peace, and love is replaced by the grittiness of speedfreaks and serial killing (the Zodiac Killer being active throughout 1969, when Daniel would have been sixteen). He’s made it to San Francisco just a few years after its golden era, and i think this makes him even more determined to live, more determined to chase living life in order to make up for that, yknow?
i think the themes that he’s drawn to when reading are:
new journalism, and particularly when the journalist-as-rockstar persona is inserted into said reporting
the provocative, bacchanalian pursuit of pleasure, whether it be sex, drugs, or rock ‘n’ roll — and often sex mixed with violence in a way that is neither straightforward nor legible
travelogues and adventure stories that reflect his restlessness, particularly which let him romanticise far away places with thriving literary scenes like Paris and New York
a general aura of repressed queerness and crises of american masculinity (Capote, Tennessee Williams, Ginsburg, Hemingway)
war narratives as a vehicle for cold war/red scare anxieties
Without further ado, the actual book list:
Periodicals
Playboy magazine. People have long joked about reading Playboy for the articles, but it is the one piece of literature teenage Daniel is in-universe confirmed to have readily accessible, so I’m running with “Danny actually does read it for the articles, though” (and anyways, it’s Diana Ross’ Rolling Stones cover issue from Feb 1 1973 that he jerks off to). In 1973 alone, Playboy featured interviews with playwright Tennessee Williams; Huey Newton (co-founder of the Black Panther Party); news anchor and journalism’s elder statesman Walter Cronkite; science fiction novelist Kurt Vonnegut; and Pulitzer Prize-winning New York Times Vietnam war correspondent David Halberstam. Other Playboy interviews of possible interest: Fidel Castro, Orson Welles, Michael Caine (1967); Norman Mailer, Truman Capote, sexologists William H. Masters and Virginia E. Johnson, Paul Newman (1968); Martin Luther King Jr., Marshall McLuhan, Allen Ginsberg (1969). Also of note: between 1969 and 1971, Playboy was publishing faked letters to the editor that eventually developed into the Illuminati conspiracy theories.
In terms of reporting from major national newspapers in circulation, significant stories that come to mind are the New York Times publication of the Pentagon Papers (1971) and Bob Woodward and Carl Bernstein’s Watergate investigations for the Washington Post (1972-73). It’s harder to gauge the circulation of underground newspapers like the Berkeley Barb (CA) and the Village Voice (NY) but its entirely likely that a resourceful and enterprising young reader with a point of view in Modesto, CA could get their hands on a copy.
Prose, Fiction & Nonfiction
The Little Red Book by Mao Zedong. At Berkeley, The Black Panthers would raise money by selling copies bought in bulk at markup to students. Absolutely makes sense that daniel would acquire (and actually read) a copy. Growing up in the wake of McCarthyism/Red Scare nonsense def makes me think he would see flirtations with communism as provocative and cool/edgy, but never back that flirtation up with follow-through.
The Hell’s Angels, a Strange and Terrible Saga (1966) by Hunter S. Thompson. Throughout the 1960s and 70s, the Hells Angels had a sizeable presence in San Francisco and Oakland — from what I can find they lived dead centre of Haight-Ashbury up until ‘69 if not later. As a teenager in Modesto, Daniel would have been geographically quite close (if not actually in attendance at) the 1969 Altamont Festival Rolling Stones performance where a teenage concertgoer was stabbed to death by a member of the Hells Angels.
Fear and Loathing on the Campaign Trail in ‘72 (serialized in Rolling Stone magazine) by Hunter S. Thompson. The quintessential text to understand ‘73 Daniel, imo. Fuck Nixon, Fuck Reagan, fuck the National Guard killing student protestors. Thompson’s other works include “The Kentucky Derby is Decadent and Depraved“ (with illustrations by Ralph Steadman) and Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas.
The New Journalism: An Anthology (1973) edited by Tom Wolfe. In addition to excerpts of Hunter S. Thompson’s work already discussed above, the anthology collects In Cold Blood (1965) by Truman Capote, Slouching Towards Bethlehem (1968) by Joan Didion, The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test (1968) by Tom Wolfe, and Armies of the Night (1968) by Norman Mailer. I won’t do justice to summarizing the New Journalism here, but it’s def important.
Slaughterhouse-Five (1969) by Kurt Vonnegut. The quintessential Daniel Molloy fiction novel, to me. Exploration of post-traumatic stress disorder through an encounter with time travelling science fiction aliens. Takes on a new resonance for Daniel when he’s dealing with his own ptsd post-1973. Vonnegut’s other works include Cat’s Cradle (1963) and Breakfast of Champions (1973). On the subject of Cold War anxieties, there’s Catch-22 (1961) by Joseph Heller. I don’t have much to say about it as I’ve not read it yet, but it feels like the kind of thing teenage Daniel living in Schrödinger's draft call-up would take to. Maybe also John Le Carré’s The Spy Who Came in From the Cold (1963) and The Looking Glass War (1965), the latter particularly for the palpable air of repressed homoeroticism and WWII nostalgia/Cold War anxiety.
A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway (published posthumously in 1964). Daniel absolutely spent his teenage years romanticising being an expat America writer in the Paris literary scene. Substance use, war, and crises of masculinity throughout. In addition to Hemingway’s reporting on the Spanish Civil War (1937-1938), other works include novels The Sun Also Rises (1926), A Farewell to Arms (1929), and For Whom the Bell Tolls (1940).
George Orwell: Down and Out in Paris and London (1933), Burmese Days (1934), Homage to Catalonia (1938), Animal Farm (1945), Nineteen Eighty-Four (1949); and essays ”Books v. Cigarettes“ (1946), ”Decline of the English Murder” (1946), “Politics and the English Language” (1946), and “Why I Write” (1946). I think Orwell’s nonfiction writing would appeal to Daniel more than his fiction, especially when at the right age to romanticize the poverty-tourism of Down and Out. Also bonus points for Paris.
On the Road (1957), The Dharma Bums (1958), and The Subterraneans (1958) by Jack Kerouac. In particular, The Subterraneans is based on Kerouac’s interracial relationship with an African American woman in the 1960s. He’d also probably read Naked Lunch (1959) by fellow Beat poet William S. Burroughs.
Lolita (1955) by Vladimir Nabokov, both for its salacious notoriety and its unreliable narration. Like myself, Daniel feels like the kind of teenager who would read Lolita at sixteen as a provocation in a conservative environment, but come away genuinely enjoying it.
Poetry, Drama, Misc
Howl and Other Poems (1956) by Allen Ginsberg, particularly the edition published locally by San Francisco’s City Lights Books Pocket Poets series.
A series of miscellaneous titles I’d group together as “Daniel Actually Did the Assigned Reading in High School English Class” — The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Catcher in the Rye by J. D. Salinger (“Get off that bench, brother”), Of Mice and Men by John Steinbeck, and “The Second Coming” by W. B. Yeats. Most significantly, I imagine high school is where he’d be exposed to the work of American playwrights Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller. The Glass Menagerie (1944), A Streetcar Named Desire (1947), and Cat on a Hot Tin Roof (1955) by Tennessee Williams. In the context of his relationship with Louis, I think it’s fun to imagine he’s familiar with/attracted to the Southern Gothic by way of Tennessee Williams (again with the crises of masculinity, the spectre of war, the repressed sexuality). Williams and Death of a Salesman (1949) by Arthur Miller, present the life Daniel could have had ie. the alcoholic husband, housewife vacuuming on Valium, etc.
If there’s anything else anyone thinks I’ve missed, feel free to hit me with a reply or a dm or an @ or whatnot. stay freaky & support yr local library x
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monzamash · 1 year ago
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it's impossible to win — daniel ricciardo
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daniel ricciardo x you (femreader) | 2.5k summary – when you buy concert tickets with your ex but break up a couple of months before the gig, do you go or cut your losses? rating – mature (sexual references, coarse language) a/n – this was inspired by a lovely ask i received during my 2k celebration and based around the band alexisonfire x masterlist
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just sent you the AOF tickets.
i told you to keep yours. you love them as much as i do. read
The glow of your phone was too bright, too harsh and so was the reality you didn’t want to face any time soon. You couldn’t keep them. How could you when the reputation of being the ‘notorious ex girlfriend of Daniel Ricciardo’ – man of the people, loved by millions shadowed you everywhere you went?
He was loved more than most and certainly more than you.
She was never good enough anyway; a parasite, they said when the news broke on the petty gossip pages, exposing that you and Daniel were no longer together, itemising every little detail of your downfall for the world to see. Those years of memories, years of loving privately disappeared and in its place were painful ones to heal. They were the best years of your life, or so you thought – blissfully unaware of the distance slowly growing between you and the man you loved more than most – but it wasn’t enough.
You weren't enough to fight for and especially not enough to love more than driving around a racetrack eight months out of the year. He was never there, out of sight and out of mind, leaving you battling for his attention. You weren’t cut out for it, simply put by him while on the other side of the world. It started as a late night phone call to ease the ache in your chest and to keep him close but he couldn’t have been further away. Physically and emotionally. Drifting.
“Babe, this is what you signed up for.”
“No, it’s what I tolerate – it’s what I sacrifice to love you.”
You broke down, knowing this was the end of your relationship and the only thing you could genuinely put your name to. You had lost yourself completely to his life, no longer something you could call your own. Abandoned dreams and forsaken friendships all so you could be there for him; drawn in to his world, naively consumed by his safety and the promise of a life lived together, not divided by oceans – lost to the fishes.
That was until you re-emerged from the lavish hotels and the private planes, sans Daniel – sans your soulmate. The day you ended that phone call, you knew he would be the hardest one to let go of; eternally the one that got away and the one relationship you would have to tell future boyfriends about. And they would probably gasp and ask, not the formula one driver? and you would have to nod and quash their insecurities because everyone loved Daniel.
But nobody loved him more than you do – did. Not even close.
“He said you should use the ticket and honestly, I don’t even think he’ll show up. He hasn’t come to anything we’ve organised since you two broke up – he’s not the kid we knew back in high school anymore… That’s why you dumped his arse, right?”
Right, but you couldn’t say that.
“I didn’t dump him. I just…” Just told him that he’s wasted the best years of my life chasing him around the world.
“… Said that if he couldn’t be there when I needed him or spent more than two seconds a year with me then I couldn’t do it anymore. And that’s it.” Well, not exactly.
“Sounds like a dumping to me and rightfully so. Look, I love Danny but he’s hard to be friends with, let alone pretending to be in domestic bliss with…”
Yes, but you respected Daniel too much to admit that. Hannah was his friend too, all of them were. You were kids all grown up, now adults wading their way through the treacherous seas of the real world, pretending like they had it all figured out. Ungracefully and riddled with anxiety but finally immune to bullshit and aware of what to expect out of an adult relationship.
The standards were higher now than when you were young and in love. Daniel was your childhood best friend, after all. Or more accurately, the boy you met on the first day of high school, all crooked teeth and bundles of frizzy brown curls. You were acne-ridden and shy, the weirdo girl, they called you until you became friends with Danny. He knew everyone and was loved by everyone – that was the one trait that had followed him through life.
He was the class clown and a cute distraction from the torture of high school but you weren’t the only one who thought so. Lunchtime quickly became your favourite part of every day because you got to sit beside him and eat your Vegemite sandwich, knowing all the other girls in your year seethed seeing you with him. 'That weird mole and Riccardo being friends doesn’t make sense' they’d whisper thinking you couldn’t hear them. But you could and they were right about one thing – you were only friends.
The slightest scent of a spring breeze reminded you of the hours you spent sat under the shady gum trees, watching him playing footy with the other boys while you fiddled with your walk-man and scratched the discs beyond repair as you changed them out, battling with the Sony aux chord that was hanging on for dear life by a slither of duct tape. You were fifteen when Daniel handed you a burnt CD with a hand-drawn skull in the shape of a heart and the letters AOF written in bold black sharpie, smudged from his impatience.
“What’s this?” You asked with squinted eyes, looking up at him and the blistering sun.
“The best fucking album you’ll ever hear.”
He told you years later that he was so proud of himself, thrilled that he was showing you new music. His competitive streak wasn’t exclusive to the karting track – no, it snuck its way into everything he did, specifically when it came to album recommendations and especially with you.
“It’s called Watch Out by Alexisonfire… you know, that punk band I said you would love. Give it a try. I promise it’s better than that fuckin’ Offspring album you won’t stop listenin’ to.”
“Well even if I do like it, I wont tell you now dickhead.”
But he was right. So infuriatingly right. You loved it, maybe because you loved him. He was your best friend, your closest confidante, your twin flame – all cheesy grin and beautiful brown eyes. Lips so full that whenever he spoke, you couldn’t look away. Dangerously entranced by your best friend. A label that haunted you every time it slipped from his tongue and one you desperately wanted to rip off like a band-aid.
You thought those feelings would be the kind of ones you'd painfully bury and take to your grave, heartbreakingly unrequited – until you found a hand-written note crumpled up at the bottom of the ripped CD sleeve. The blotchy blue pen and creases in the lined paper made it hard for you to read his distinctive, yet messy boyish cursive.
song 4 – side walk when she walks (made me think of you)
The sound of frantic clicking bounced off your lilac coloured walls as you skipped to track four; a spinning screech filled the anticipated silence before the sound of a melodic guitar filtered through the muffled headset.
Dressed to kill, you look so right I am drunk with lust tonight Your wounds are opening wide And they might be just my size
Warmth rushed to your chest, your neck and up to your cheeks when you realised what it all meant. And it wasn’t the last time Daniel made your body feel like it was on fire, sitting on his messy bedroom floor and kissing until you couldn’t breathe, the soft sounds of your new favourite band playing on his stereo – heart beating so fast you could’ve died, happily in his arms.
But you weren’t horny teenagers anymore and that memory was blurrier now than it had ever been. It had been muddied with all the sad ones, the fights and the tears – the irreversible emotional damage that you had done to each other. You weren’t a saint, god knows and you took full responsibility for your part and so did Daniel. But that was where it ended – in a seemingly amicable split.
No love lost, only misplaced for a while.
It felt like all eyes were watching you as you walked into the small club, ears already tingling with the reverberation bouncing off the blackened walls – if only they could talk. Musky bodies and the hint of cigarettes filled the air while your combat boots stuck to the floor with every step you took into the lion’s den, making your path to closure hard fought. Maybe it was a sign to turn back; anything could’ve convinced you to swing by the exit on your left until you saw him.
He was dressed head to toe in black with a cap securely pulled over his eyes, hiding away from the curious ones. In any other crowd it would’ve been a piss-poor disguise, so obviously him but he blended in with the dark walls and the growing crowd, all wearing the unofficial uniform of an elder emo – baggy sweater, ripped skinny jeans and torn up Vans. And you were no different.
"You made it!!", a friend greeted, pulling you into a rib-crushing hug while you took in the circling faces. There were a few you never thought you would see again, people who were only your friend by proxy and ones he’d picked up along the way. And it was clear by the way everyone greeted you that he hadn’t dragged your name through the mud, maybe he kept the details of the break up quiet like you.
But the reality for Daniel was that he was too broken to even process what had happened. He came home to an empty apartment after a double-header with no way to contact you, to make things right. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night and he wasn’t entirely convinced that the couple of months you’d been apart was enough either. And he was right. The sharp pain in his chest and the way his hands shook when he saw you confirmed it. He was fucked.
“Fuck,” Daniel groaned and turned to his mate, “What am I doing here, man…” 
All he could do was let out a soft laugh and pat his friend on the shoulder, “You’re an idiot.”
Daniel readjusted his cap and let out a strangled, “I know.”
You promised your friend that you’d be fine, like water off a ducks back. All the side glances and murmurs meant nothing to you anymore, the insecurity you had now was nothing compared to when you were actually dating Daniel. Consumed in his bubble, unable to escape the crushing scrutiny. Another wag bites the dust, they said, gone with no explanation other than your obvious absence in the paddock.
It didn’t matter anymore; nothing could hurt more than losing him.
But you still felt it, bubbling away in the pit of your stomach. Years and years of loving someone doesn’t disappear over night, especially when you thought it would last forever. Nostalgia won the battle against the wound in your chest for a moment, still festering without treatment – knowing the only person who could heal it was miles away emotionally but was now in your line of vision. Seeing him in the flesh hurt more than you’d anticipated, more than you could’ve ever imagined. You still loved him, after everything.
The bubbles of excitement quickly dissipated and twisted into knots when you thought about what you had lost – a wave of anxiety washed over, churning away at any ounce of courage you’d mustered to even turn up to this stupid fucking show. You were cursing yourself, cursing your friend who had convinced you that he probably wouldn’t even turn up and that the odds were in your favour. She was so, so wrong.
“Ignore him and come dance.”
She was in damage control, dragging you away from the small gathering of friends and Daniel, who couldn’t tear his eyes away. His warm stare burned holes through your leather jacket as he watched you walk off into the crowd – and away from him again. It was becoming a habit of yours that he loathed. The house lights felt like a spotlight on your bruised ego but you pushed through the warm bodies, putting as much distance as you could between you and your past. The support band sounded great, mostly because it drowned out the soul-crushing thoughts swirling in your mind and brought you some much needed reprieve from your pity party.
You didn’t feel like yourself at all – you were the shell of the woman you used to be and you certainly weren’t the woman you wanted to show up as either. Strong, independent, single and thriving – you were none of those things, entirely the opposite in every way, so you had to dig deep and fake it. And you were a great actor but not tonight.
Not when you felt a gentle poke to your bicep. The lights rotating and strobing above made it impossible to see who was standing beside you, hand offering an icy bottle of Corona with a wedge of lime. It nearly slipped from your shaky fingers when you grasped it, whispering a soft thank you as the house lights went down and the swell of the surging crowd rumbled under foot.
“I wanted to have a chat but…” Daniel pointed to the stage, yelling over the drummer that had taken his rightful place behind his kit.
“Maybe later?” And you nodded yes, sending him a reassuring smile as the band began to play.
You could be diplomatic and hear him out – you owed yourself that at least and deserved closure from all the unanswered questions.
Daniel kept his distance, knowing he was in the wrong and that letting you go was the biggest mistake of his life. And it wasn’t long until his heart stalled in his chest when he heard that painfully recognisable guitar riff filter through the thick air, the one he couldn’t listen to without thinking of you and he could see the way your eyes glazed with tears when you heard it; the opening chords to the song he had dedicated to you all those years ago on that stupid burnt cd.
Maybe you missed him too.
“This ones called side walk when she walks.”
You reached down, without even looking and grasped his hand that was hanging loosely between your stiff bodies. Daniel interlocked his shaking fingers with yours and squeezed them as your head dropped to his shoulder, resting there while you both swayed to the music. You felt safe for the first time in months, comforted by his presence.
Of course you missed him. He was your person.
And this was your band; the band you shared together for over half your lives, their songs played while you fell in love with one another. They were the band you lost your virginity to, humming softly in the background and wishing that feeling would last forever. You remembered blasting ‘to a friend’ in the car on the way to your graduation and Daniel nearly getting pulled over by the cops, laughing until your sides hurt. And they were the band you would always save for your road trips along the coast, both there in Los Angeles and back home.
These were the songs that soundtracked your life with Daniel.
They were your band – and they’d brought you back together.
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a//n – this was wildly self indulgent so if you hated it, let me know lol but also lmk if you liked it because i loved writing it x masterlist | askbox
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mmishee-art · 2 years ago
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Felt inspired, I like Anxiety Sans ( by @hheisa )
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justwritedreams · 7 months ago
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Whatever it takes | San
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San x Reader, forbidden love au!
Genre: drama, fluff
Word count: 1.317
Warnings: cheating but it's a fake marriage so it's ok 😃
Author: Maari
Note: This is totally inspired by the Turkish series Kara Sevda so if you think San exudes Kemal, we're in this together. Something small for my inspiration to come back soon 🫡
Summary: Whatever it takes for endless love, including stolen moments.
Taglist: @foxinnie8
⪢ Ateez Masterlist
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Y/N took a deep breath as her eyes adjusted to the vast darkness of the room she was in, her legs were shaking with anxiety and her hands were freezing from the cold of the intense winter that night, but she couldn't help but admire the city below. It was so late and yet the city hadn't stopped yet, as well as the fine snow that was falling.
She was exiled at her best friend's house, who had a last-minute emergency and wouldn't be returning home that day - the responsibility of being a doctor -, perhaps exiled wasn't just the only word that defined her current situation.
The ring on her left hand burned her cold hand, that was how she felt every time she left the house, it seemed like the ring was pulling her back to her sad reality as if it were a chain.
Helpless and completely sad, she imagined she smelled a familiar yet distant scent. It was difficult to control all the anguish in her chest at the same time that she missed the dark eyes admiring her as if she were the most perfect work of art.
She hugged herself as the cold took over her even more, but it didn't last that long. Y/N felt strong arms wrap around her waist and she closed her eyes as she recognized the hug, her lip curling into an almost imperceptible smirk.
She felt his chin rest on her shoulder and she no longer had any doubts that this was real, not a dream like she was having every night she slept in her tower. That's why she placed her hands on his strong arm and let herself be hugged, until she felt like she was losing herself in the warmth of the body of the person she needed most at that moment.
“I should have already guessed.” she whispered, breaking the liberating silence.
“I needed to see you.” San's soft voice was close enough to her face that it made her body shiver.
She sighed and with a lot of effort, she broke the hug so she could turn around and face him.
Even with the lack of light, she was able to observe his every feature. The same ones that wandered through her dreams and daydreams, that accompanied her on her saddest days.
He was more beautiful every day. Irresistible, in fact.
“You know it’s dangerous.” she remembered and San put his thumb to her mouth, to shut her up.
He looked as sad as she did, because a few minutes like that wouldn't be enough to satisfy all the missing they felt for each other and they both knew it, but that was all they had left. For now.
“I can’t live like this, away from you.” Y/N felt her eyes water because for her it was equally difficult and she felt useless because she had nothing to do, she wanted to change that situation more than anyone. But it was so risky. “I can't sleep knowing you're living in the same house as that psychopath.”
It was Y/N's turn to make San shut up.
That night she didn't want to remember her reality, she didn't want to remember the family she had tried to help but had sacrificed instead, the false image she had to convey to the world or the husband obsessed with her who would never have a drop of her love.
She had a miserable life that suffocated her every day.
When she was with San, she just wanted to feel.
Feel that she was still the same girl who fell in love with the most fantastic man in the world, feel that teenager invincibility that everything could be fought with the love she felt for him, feel how much he loved her back with just a look.
Y/N caressed his face slowly, watching him calm down at the touch.
“Make me forget everything, San.” she begged softly, looking him in the eyes. “The way only you know how to do it.”
She didn't need to ask twice.
San took his hand to the back of her head and brought her face closer, sealing their lips so quickly that it bordered on desperation and in fact it was exactly that.
They didn't know how many days had passed since the last time they were together, for so many reasons, but they felt as if it was an eternity that evaporated in the same moment that their warm lips met again.
They closed their eyes as they satisfied the desire to stop with the distance imposed on them, their lips, already very familiar with each other, had the only job of moving slowly and intensely.
Y/N put her hands on San's arms as he pulled her closer, bringing their bodies together in a way that no force in the world could separate.
She sighed into the kiss, feeling her heart beating so fast that it could easily jump out of her body, but if she had only one request in life, it would be that one. Die in his arms.
That was her home. It was where she belonged.
And everything was much better when she realized that it was reciprocal.
That endless and genuine love. That's how she felt around him.
As if only with him she was herself.
Everything became a little faster when her hands went up to his shoulders and their tongues followed a familiar path. It wasn't the first time they kissed and never the last but it was as if it were, all those sensations were exactly just like the first time so long ago that they didn't even remember what they were like but they would never forget what it was like to be together.
Nothing would have ended, quite the contrary, San had already pressed her against the wall so that his body was pressed against hers when the phone rang shrill, causing their kiss to be quickly broken.
Y/N stared at San with heavy breathing, still a little dizzy as he looked like he wanted to throw the phone out the window and neither of them had the courage to get out of there and release the heat.
He held her face with both hands, making her face him firmly and intensely, he was holding himself back from kissing her red mouth again, but he wanted her to feel safe.
“I’m going to undo this nightmare and we’re going to run far away from here.” he promised and she smiled, excited. “It’ll just be you and me. As it should have been in the beginning.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt.” She placed her hands on top of his and he looked at her completely in love.
“I won’t be the one hurt this time.” he responded with determination and she knew exactly who he was referring to.
His archenemy and husband only in Y/N's role.
"I trust you." She caressed his hand in a simple affection, making him smile even with his serious expression.
“Trust us.”
She nodded and before she could wrap San in a hug, the phone rang again. She snorted and faced San, she knew she had to answer but she didn't want all that good feeling she was feeling to leave so soon.
San kissed her forehead quickly and pulled her by the hand to go to the phone, she looked at him before he put the call on speaker.
“Where are you, my wife?”
Y/N saw San set his jaw and stare at the phone angrily.
"In hell." she replied rudely.
“Great, that means you’re on your way home. I’ll see you later then.”
She rolled her eyes and hung up the phone, running her hand over her face, completely tired of it.
But if it depended on San, hell would soon pass.
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ravencincaide · 11 months ago
Text
Something wrong
Summary: It was his job to notice things when it came to you, he just wished you’d be a little bit more cooperative than just hide everything behind short responses or ‘I’m fine’ smiles. Chuuya was going to find out anyway so why delay? OR Chuuya didn’t like your friends and you’ve just given him another reason to like them even less.
Pairing: Fem! Reader x Chuuya Nakahara 
Inspired by request by anon: After hanging out with some friends she’s unusually quiet and not even special interest subjects seem to get her talking. 
Warnings: Cursing and fluff- a little too sweet for my liking, shameless friends, protective and a little angry Chuuya, Sweetness? 
Hope you enjoy~ ______________________________________________________________
Chuuya knew something was wrong the moment he pulled up by the cafe.
Normally he would have to park his bike, go inside, deal with your gawking friends who shamelessly checked him out and asked invasive questions and then politely yet firmly pull you away from them. If he failed in that task then he’d sit with a cup of irish coffee and a shot of espresso and pretend to be interested in the latest gossip of who slept or slapped who. Such minor things that would normally be way below him as an executive within the Port Mafia. Yet he’d do it, for you, and only for you. 
So when he found you standing outside the cafe, leg propped up against the wall, staring blankly in front of you, he knew he was going to have to bribe, torture or kill someone. Preferably with his own hands. Calming his bloodlust ever so slightly Chuuya began with the proper first step when dealing with an unknown enemy; the assessment of said enemy or in his case assessing the damage said enemy had done to what was his. 
“ Had a good day sweetheart?” Chuuya asked as he finally approached you after parking his bike a distance away. He was hiding his concern behind a tense smile and the shade of his top hat. 
“ Lets just go” you mumbled, neither confirming nor denying his question. In response Chuuya stretched out his arm for you to take. You pried yourself away from the wall, came over and rested your hand on top of it. Your shoulders seemed to relax ever so slightly as the familiar scent of him- coffee, cigarettes and leather filled your senses. But not for long; you tensed again as you heard the little ring of the cafe door. Then froze as the clacking of high heels and familiar giggles sounded behind you. It seemed awfully convenient that your friends would decide to leave the cafe at the very moment Chuuya came to get you. A fact that definitely didn’t slip Chuuya’s observation skills. His attention was entirely on you however; how you seemed to shy away from your friends instead of greeting or smiling at them. The way you suddenly found the ground very interesting. 
“ Awww Nakahara-san how adorable it is that you’re picking up Y/N” one of the girls said and they giggled between each other as if sharing some inside joke. He felt you tense and noticed your reddening ears.
Chuuya could practically taste your sadness. Fucking Bitches. 
Still he had to act polite before he burned the wrong bridges. It wasn’t like he cared what they thought of him but he needed to be careful of what they thought, did or said to and about you. 
“ We’re in a bit of a hurry, excuse us” Chuuya reached up his hand and ever so slightly tipped his hat in their direction before turning his back to them. Then he began walking. As he heard them squeal and noticed you drag your feet, he dropped his right arm and wrapped it around your waist; bringing you closer to himself. His left hand found yours and held it gently. “ Cold m’precious?” he mumbled. 
You shook your head slightly. 
Then it was your anxiety and humiliation which made your body shiver against him. He tsk’ed under his breath and led you through the crowd, skillfully avoiding the masses and then down a much more secluded alleyway. A rarely-used shortcut towards the mall. 
Silence dragged on between you two but for the sound of your shoes click-clacking against the cobblestones. Or the swoosh of his coat as you’d round a corner and then continue walking in the same awfully slow pace and deathly silence. 
“ So wanna tell me about that new book you were reading this morning?” Chuuya’s eyes flickered down to you, for once hoping to hear anything and everything about the book that had you so engrossed;  Spicy, corny or bad, he wanted to hear your sweet voice describe the best moments and clarify internal jokes. To see the blank look in your eyes disappear in favour of a passionate glint and bright smile. A happy expression- exactly what his girl was supposed to wear. 
“ Mm not really” you replied with a heavy sigh, your gaze focused entirely on the cobblestones and where you set your feet. You acted as if you didn’t know that he’d shift gravity to make sure you didn’t stumble, let alone fall. And even if you did then he’d be there to catch you in a heartbeat. 
Something was definitely off. Bad book? Character death? He somewhat understood. Thus he tried a safer topic; “ What about that author you like sweets? D– Delaney something?” 
“ Joseph Delaney is dead.” you answered bluntly, shutting down any follow up questions or discussions about his works or what you loved so much about him. 
Now Chuuya was certain that whatever happened in that cafe was personal. 
“Doll, how about we jump into the bookstore on our way back? It’s been a long time since you’ve read me anything before bed” he smiled a little to himself secretly missing those precious bedtime moments with you. It wasn’t like he, a port mafia executive, needed them but–
“ Don’t pretend to care!” you suddenly snapped, making Chuuya’s eyes widen and his head snapped down to look at you, not sure if he heard you right. 
“ Sweetheart–” 
You just huffed and dropped his hand, crossing your arms over your chest, effectively silencing him. “ Please don’t act like stupid things like these are exciting for you! I get it, okay you don’t need to pretend anymore, or whatever” you continued walking, this time without his arms around you. You didn’t check whether he followed, didn’t even look at him, clearly fighting back tears of humiliation. 
Silence lasted all of two seconds, followed by a dark; “ Okay which of those bitches said something to you?” Chuuya growled. His words made your eyes widen and you spun around to see your normally sweet boyfriend look ready to murder. The blue of his eyes was replaced by a burning red. He was adjusting his leather gloves with his mouth while his second hand checked his pockets, counting the number of bullets he carried on him. Those were usually a cleaner kill and delivered a much louder warning than smashing someone against the pavement. 
You gaped as you realized he was serious and rushed back towards him. Then you gripped onto his arm with both of your own, barely halting his bullet-counting. “ Chuuya you can’t just go killing people!” you gasped, gripping onto his arm tighter “ Please?”
The ‘please’ worked better than any amount of strengths you could have used. Still it did not calm the clear bloodlust radiating off of him. “ Why not?” he huffed, almost pouting “ No one’s gonna trash m’girl and live” 
You pulled his arm towards yourself and gripped his hand in between your own. “ Because they’re my ..friends, I really don’t want them dead. And also I don’t want this day to be ruined because of something small– especially us time” You flapped your eyelashes at him, a pleading look on your face. 
Chuuya lasted all of five seconds against that look.  “ mm’kay” he finally grumbled and buried his head in your shoulder. “ But you, sweetheart, need better friends” ,
You breathed a sigh of relief then felt your mischievous side take over for a brief second;“ Friends like Dazai?” you teased him ever so slightly. 
Hearing your words, Chuuya let out a loud groan and pulled his head back from your shoulder, giving you the most unimpressed look he could manage. He was barely holding back the tirade about why Dazai was not his friend. Before he could start on it however, his attention was caught by the way you dragged your bottom lip between your pearly whites in slight nervousness. 
This action gave him ideas. And the fact that you two were alone in a secluded alley did little to help soothe his imagination. Chuuya’s lips pulled up into a boyish grin as his hands found your waist and brought you closer; “ Just shut the hell up and kiss me, pretty girl.”
He watched you eagerly as you took your time before your lips finally met his in a tender kiss.  Chuuya was certain he’d pull out the truth and what exactly they said to you sooner rather than later. And then it would be up to him to decide how they’d pay for their foolish foolish actions … 
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