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sophierequests · 2 years ago

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i'll make myself at home // academic affairs part three

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Pairing: Jesper Fahey x gn!Reader

A/N: Guess who's back! My exams are finally over and now I have a bit more time to write. I also had this part sitting in my drafts for so long, but it still felt too unfinished to post. This post is mainly filler and relationship-building, but it's fluffy, so I hope y'all will still like it <3

This is part three of an ongoing miniseries! Find the miniseries masterlist here!

Summary: Meeting a university friend, domestic flirting and awkward flirting may lead to a flustered sharpshooter.

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Awkward conversations, one or three curses, poor proofreading

Jesper cursed himself for not having paid attention to the exact path when he stumbled upon your institute all these weeks ago. One couldn't really blame him though. The first time he found himself in front of the opulent building was after he had just managed to outrun a horde of wild Dime Lions, well, sort of. And the second time, which was actually just the walk back on the same day, he had been too lost in the memories of your brief, but painfully intoxicating, interaction to concentrate on the route he took. So maybe one could say that it was kind of his fault.

All the buildings around him looked the same, and if he was being completely honest, so did the alleys leading up to them. He could have sworn that he was starting to walk in circles.

With a sigh, he leaned against one of the neatly taken care of birch trees that surrounded the little artificial lawn in the middle of the campus square. It looked a little bit out of place for a university as prestigious and strict as the University of Ketterdam, but apparently, the students weren’t as stuck up as he believed. A few groups sat scattered all over the lawn, studying, eating, or simply engaging in casual conversations. Jesper wondered how his life would look like now if he hadn't decided to abandon his studies as thoughtlessly as he had. Perhaps he would have met you sooner, and perhaps the two of you would be one of the dreamy couples lounging on the grass without a care in the world.

This was terrible. Everything about this was terrible. You and he were worlds apart. He was a criminal, dangerous, deadly, and always on the run. And you? You were smart and talented, and so much more than he could possibly bargain for. You would never even do as much as entertain the thought of being with someone like him.

Right when he had intended to continue his pretty hopeless quest of looking for you, a conversation a few meters away from him caught his attention.

"I can't believe that he asked you to be his date for the anniversary ball and all you could do was gape at him like a fish! Every other sane person wouldn't even have hesitated to agree," a female voice chartered in an eager tone, gradually coming closer to where Jesper was standing.

"I suppose I'm not sane then," another voice replied, one he recognised.

Startled, Jesper whipped his head around to look at where the discussion was coming from. And lo on behold, there you were, walking next to a person that he assumed to be a friend of yours. Even though you looked quite a bit tired, the heavy-looking stack of books in your arms only emphasising that, he still thought that you were as pretty as ever. It was hard to keep himself from eagerly calling out for you, but he thankfully managed to contain his excitement.

Your friend scoffed and rolled her eyes. She was visibly peeved by your vague response. "Ugh, come on!" she groaned, bouncing on the soles of her feet like an erratic grasshopper. "He's nice, lovely even, and he showed genuine interest in going out with you. The fact that you told him that you 'had to think about it' is absolutely atrocious. Why don't you just give him a chance? It can't possibly go wrong."

Jesper bit the inside of his cheek, disappointed. Someone had asked you out. He should have probably seen that coming. You'd eventually find someone just like you, and maybe he'd eventually find someone just like him. Getting his hopes up that you two could actually be something more was foolish.

"I just don't know, Mila. Maybe I'll say yes. But I really have to think about it first. We’re friends, and I don’t want to make things awkward."

"Saints, it's almost embarrassing to watch you be scared of simple human intimacy." Your friend elbowed you in the side, nearly making you drop your books.

"It's equally as embarrassing to watch you jest about my love life while you and Elia have been in the talking stage for the last two semesters," you retorted, turning your head to the side and away from Jesper's view.

"Wait." Mila stopped dead in her tracks, yanking your arm back so that you were facing her. "You're not already taking that mysterious stranger you refuse to tell me anything about, are you?"

Mysterious stranger? Was she talking about him? Or was saving misfits like him a regular pastime of yours? It was safe to say that this statement surely caught his attention.

“I had hoped that you would have dropped this topic by now…”

“You randomly show up with a jacket that is a hundred per cent not yours, then you keep taking it with you for a solid three weeks, and now you want me to drop it?” She let out an incredulous snort at the mere suggestion of letting the story go. “I’m not letting this go until you tell me who this guy is.”

The sharpshooter felt his cheeks flush red, you were definitely talking about him. He wanted to listen to what you were saying for just a bit longer. He wanted to hear what you had to say about him. Would you call him a friend? Would you tell her how you met? Or would you care to mention him at all? It killed him that he had no answer to any of these questions.

But no amount of want could smother the acute awareness of the position he was currently in. He was half-heartedly hiding behind a tree while listening in on a conversation he had absolutely no business listening to. It definitely wasn’t a welcoming picture.

Pushing himself away from the tree, he stood up straighter. He couldn’t think of any other option but to bite the bullet and make himself known. He wiped away some of the dirt and moss that had gathered on his vest before cautiously sauntering towards you. You weren’t too far away from him so he was careful to not take wide strides. His mind was running wild with possible conversation starters that wouldn’t make him look like a complete creep, however, everything he came up with was quickly thrown onto a mental pyre.

Just act casual, he repeated silently. Talk to them like you would to anyone else. Maybe with a little less flirting. Or maybe with a little more flirting? All of this was easier when his heart wasn’t actively threatening to jump out of his ribcage.

The distance between you couldn’t have been more than two meters now, and the closer he got, the weaker his knees seemed to get. Your face was turned slightly to the side, so he didn’t think that you would have seen him coming. He dreaded having to be the first one to speak up, his usually careless and flirty demeanour went down the drain as soon as he had seen you.

In some strike of otherworldly luck, or maybe even pity, your eyes met his before he could even open his mouth. He wasn’t sure why you decided to look up from your friend at exactly that moment, but he was certain that he stopped breathing for a solid minute. Your eyes widened when your brain began to register who he was. A beaming smile appeared on your face and before you could stop yourself, you shook off your friend’s arm, handing her your stack of books and passed over towards him.

“Jesper!” you grinned, closing the distance between you and wrapping your arms around his middle. It was unexpected, especially after your stiff reaction to his surprise hug at the club, but it most definitely wasn’t unwelcome. He didn’t wait long to reciprocate the gesture, pulling you impossibly close as if he feared that you might disappear into thin air as soon as he would let go. You smelled exactly like his jacket did after you had given it back to him. Saints, he couldn’t get enough of it.

“Hello, sweetheart,” Jesper replied after begrudgingly letting you pull away. His gaze flickered over to your friend briefly, her mouth agape and her eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as some form of realisation flashed over her features.

“I didn’t expect you today. I actually just came back from the library” you began, staring up at him almost giddily. “You weren’t at the institute, were you? I hope you didn’t have to wait too long for me to show up, that would be a bit embarrassing in all honesty.”

You continued rambling for a bit longer but he didn’t have the heart to tell you that he hadn’t even managed to find it in the first place. Mila, who never ceased to stare at his jacket and then back at you, quickly strutted over to you, your books still in her arms.

“So you’re the mysterious jacket guy!” she smirked, wriggling her brows at you before stretching out a hand towards him. “I’m Mila, a pleasure to finally meet you. I thought I’d never get to know who this…” she pointed at his jacket, “this fashion statement belongs to.”

He took her hand, shaking it firmly. Her gaze was inquisitive and he felt oddly scrutinised. “Jesper, the pleasure is all mine,” he replied, trying his best to sound like he belonged. “I’m glad you liked my jacket.”

“Oh trust me, she did,” you grumbled, biting away a snarky comment.

“Well, looks like my presence isn’t required anymore.” Mila shoved the stack of books back into your hands, mouthing something he couldn’t quite make out in your direction before hurrying off. “Have fun!”

Suddenly, it was just the two of you again.

He straightened out the sleeves of his shirt, desperate to regain at least some sort of control over his appearance. “I, uhm, don’t worry about not being at the department. I wasn’t here long.”

“Phew, that’s good to know.” A small chuckle escaped your mouth, not really a laugh, but enough to send his mind into a frenzy. “I must admit I’m a bit surprised to see you. I didn’t expect you to genuinely take me up on that offer.”

I didn’t expect you to offer it in the first place, his brain answered.

“Darling, I’m still deeply thankful for you keeping my ass from getting beaten by Dime Lions, there was no way I wouldn’t take you up on that offer.” He paused, seeing your face light up even brighter than it was before. “Your splendid company is only an added benefit.”

He didn’t actually mean to say the last bit out loud, but in some way, admitting it felt very right.

“And here I thought you’d only keep me around as a safety net for the next time you piss off someone and have to look for somewhere to hide, Mr Fahey.”

“To be honest, I don’t think that I would be able to find my way back to your funky little institute without help. So safe to say, the next time I’m stranded here will probably end on a less happy note.”

You bit your lower lip as you haggled for the right words to say. “I was just about to head back to my flat. It’s way easier to find than the department, so if you’re still in need of a hideout, you could always join me.”

He grinned, wide and dumb, like the foolish little boy he was. "You sure you're willing to put that upon yourself, sweetheart? I'm like a stray cat, you invite me inside once and I'll probably never leave."

"Hm, that makes things a little bit more difficult, of course." This comment was meant to tease him, yet you were still a bit surprised when his brows shot up and his back spine straightened. Did he really take offence to this? “I don’t think my cat would appreciate any form of competition.”

Jesper let out a sharp snort, his shoulders falling when he understood that you had, in fact, nothing against him staying at your place. No, you were actively offering it. “You have a cat? And that fur monster didn’t manage to scratch up my jacket completely? I am impressed by that cat’s self-control.”

“Hey! Malachi is a very good boy!” you laughed, scrunching your nose and giving him an affronted glare. “And I always had your jacket hanging on the coat rack in my flat, he’s too lazy to jump that high. And too fat, but don’t tell him I said that.”

“I’ll make sure I’ll keep all my comments about Malachi’s weight to the absolute minimum.”

“Sooo, are you joining me or-”

“Yes,” he answered, a bit too quickly for his liking.

A smile tugged on the corner of your lips, warm and welcoming. Sometimes his humour felt like he was stalling, waiting for something that ought to happen at some point, but never ended up coming through. His restless nature had captured your interest from the first few words you had exchanged in the foyer of the institute, so you weren’t necessarily all that taken aback by the fact that it wasn’t only a trait he nurtured after almost being outrun by Dime Lions. Still, you’d probably need a bit to get used to his evasive nature.

During the walk to your flat, the two of you only exchanged a few words. He told you about the job that had cut your previous conversation short, and you told him about all the extensive readings you had done in the last few weeks, of which he only understood a few keywords.

You lived a bit further away from the main university building than he had initially expected. He could hear the noises of ships swaying in the vicinity of First Harbour and the shouts of sailors working at the docks. Thankfully, you were still far enough away from First Harbour to get a whiff of the godawful smell that penetrated everyone’s nostrils whenever one got close to it.

It was a modest apartment building, he reckoned. He assumed that it could hold about four flats, one on every floor. The outside was painted a bright yellow. An eyesore really, but so was every building the university rented out to students for a few hundred kruge. The staircase inside was similar to the one they had at the Slat; a long-winded creaky monstrosity with a few planks of rotting wood serving as a railing.

You led him up three flights of stairs, stopping in front of a pretty wooden door with a holiday wreath still hanging on it. He took a mental note to ask you about that later. When he stepped inside your flat, one word sprung to his mind: homey. Everything felt terribly homey. The pretty light brown wallpaper, the bookshelves occupying nearly every wall and corner, and the thousands of plants that were standing - or hanging - everywhere he looked.

Lazily, you threw off your coat, hanging it on the rack next to the door. Jesper carefully mirrored your actions, hanging his leather jacket next to your perfectly pristine black overcoat - the Barrel and Ketterdam University meeting. He turned around to make a sly comment about this observation, but you weren’t in the hallway anymore. Your shoes were still there, flawlessly returned to the shoe stand in the corner, but you were off in some other room, leaving him alone and almost a bit intimidated. Not intimidated because he was afraid, he wasn’t afraid, it was more the sense of uncertainty that intimidated him.

“The living room is at the end of the corridor to the left! Feel free to make yourself at home, I’ll join you in a minute.” your voice rang from what he assumed to be the kitchen, the rhythmic running of water and the clattering of cutlery confirmed this theory. “Do you want tea or coffee?”

“I’ll take whatever you’re having,” he replied, tossing off his shoes and roughly aligning them with yours.

“Tea it is then!”

Sock-footed, he tiptoed down the hallway, jumping at every floorboard that dared to make a sound. The kitchen was directly across the living room, so he threw a quick glance inside, smiling to himself when he saw you debating what mug you wanted to pick out for him. He secretly hoped that you would give him the kind of gaudy bright green one that stood right at the front of the cupboard. Not because he particularly liked it, he actually thought it was quite dreadful, but it looked like you seemed to use it quite a lot. And for some reason, he liked that thought.

Your living room looked exactly how he had imagined it. An old well-loved couch in the middle of the room, a padded armchair sitting on the other side, stacks of books and papers anywhere his eyes landed and, of course, another load of plants. He sauntered to the couch, politely wiping the dust off his pants before sitting down. The couch was comfortable, ugly but comfortable. Some of the springs groaned underneath him when he tried to shift into a more comfortable position, but that didn’t faze him too much.

What did faze him was the hunk of black mass that had just disappeared behind the armchair next to him. Maybe it was just a trick of his imagination, maybe he was too tired for all of this. But no, there was definitely something lingeri-

“Do you need sugar for your tea? I usually don’t need it, but just in case you do, I have a tray of rock candy on here.” You walked into the room, a fully-loaded tray of mugs and other clutter in your hands.

You placed the bright green mug in front of him, pushing a deep, giddy grin onto his lips. You had to have read his mind.

“Jesper? Everything alright?”

His head snapped away from the mug and back to you. “Hm? Oh, yes! It’s just- the mug. I like it.”

“You do? I actually think it’s quite ugly. It was a joke gift from my father on my eighteenth birthday and it is probably one of the most hideous things I own. Somehow I have still grown to love it though.” He picked up the mug, cupping it with both of his hands and feeling the comforting warmth of the warmed-up ceramic flow through him. “And it does remind me a bit of you.”

Saints, he did not expect that. “Of me?” He chose to ignore the fact that you had previously called it ‘quite ugly’ and ‘one of the most hideous things you owned’, only hanging onto your last sentence. “Is it because you also have grown to love me?” He was testing the waters.

The fact that you rolled your eyes altered all the bells inside his head that he had tested the waters a bit too much. “Not quite. My reason was actually that it’s equally as tacky as you,” you replied, very obviously joking.

He clutched his heart dramatically, falling back into his seat as if he had just been shot. His acting skills could probably put every single one of the actors at the Ketterdam Theatre to shame. “You wound me, love. How shall I ever recover from this kind of betrayal?”

You flicked a tea towel at him, not hard enough that it hurt, but definitely unexpected enough to get him to let out a whiny yelp. Sitting down next to him, you picked up your own mug and stirred a bit of milk into it.

He was about to open his mouth, either to give you an off-handed comment about your tea-drinking habits or to test the waves of your relationship a bit further, however, before he could do as much as open his mouth, a heavy mass of thick black fur jumped onto his legs. Embarrassingly, he shrieked pretty loudly, throwing his hands up into the air in shock.

“Oh, there you are, Malachi!” you giggled, visibly finding some sort of amusement in the situation. “Come here, baby. Leave our guest alone, I don’t think he’d appreciate you shedding all over him.”

Of course, the cat. He totally forgot about that.

“Baby?” Jesper snorted, taking in the very full-bodied cat that was currently trying to get comfortable in his lap. “That is a fully grown man! Do you make him pay rent or does he live here rent-free?”

The fluffy black tabby rubbed his head on Jesper’s waistcoat eagerly, soundlessly begging him to pay attention to it. You moved forward to take it from his lap, but Jesper was already fallen victim to the cat’s charm, gently petting its back and scratching it behind the ears.

“Won’t you look at that! He likes you.”

“I assume he got that from you,” Jesper smirked, grinning even wider when he saw the blush on your cheeks.

“Tacky,” you mumbled light-heartedly, without any malice.

A small conversation began to flicker between the two of you. It ranged from talks about the Dregs to heated conversations about the furniture in your flat. You told him about your life before you went to university; your parents, your friends, your country. You told him that your father had been hesitant to let you go, leaving home and everything you knew was a big challenge after all, but he eventually came to terms with the fact that he couldn’t hold you back from living out your full potential. He was uncomfortably reminded of his father, who mainly wanted him to go to university because he intended on keeping him away from the Grisha training in Ravka. He didn’t blame Colm for all of this, of course, he didn’t, but the ever-present question of what could have been didn’t want to leave his head.

At one point he must have made a joke, a pretty terrible one judging by the way he cringed afterwards, but suddenly you were laughing again. A bright and hearty laugh, almost like the sound of a bell. He loved it. And he loved what you said next even more.

“Saints, Jes, that is such a terrible thing to say, I shouldn’t even be laughing at this,” you giggled, putting a hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh that shook your chest.

“Jes?” he asked, a stupid smirk on his lips. This was the first time you had called him something over than his full name. It made him feel giddy for some reason.

You froze, noticing your slip-up immediately. “Did I just say that? I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed-”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Jesper argued quickly. “All my other friends call me that too, so you’re good.” He tried to play off his excitement as well as he could but at this point, he didn’t seem to have any control over the corners of his lips tugging upwards whenever you gave him the tiniest amount of attention.

“Oh.” You bit your lower lip in thought. “Jes it is then.”

And Jes it was. He had the feeling that you’d never call him anything else now. But of course he wouldn’t mind. How could he when his name sounded so sweet coming from you?

He could have revelled in this kind of conversation and playful exchange forever had he been given the chance. And had there not been the nagging voice in the back of his head that constantly pulled him back to the conversation you had with your friend only a few hours earlier, he probably would have done just that. The thought of you going out with someone that wasn’t him made his brain go into panic mode. He knew that he didn’t have the right to feel jealous about it, yet he couldn’t bear the uncertainty.

“Soooo,” he dragged out the vowel until you were focused back on him again. “I overheard you and your friend talking about some boy that asked you out, should I be scared about having to share your undivided attention in the near future?”

You threatened to choke on your drink when you heard that. He seemed to have picked up on way more of the conversation than you had thought. “I- uhm, no, it’s not like that,” you stammered, barely able to catch your breath. Jesper didn’t remember the last time he had seen you this flustered.

“Y/N, you don’t have to tell me about this. I’m just joking,” he assured you, his hand itching to touch you.

“It’s nothing bad, really. You just caught me a bit off guard with that question.” You chewed on your lower lip rather awkwardly. “There’s this anniversary gala at the end of the semester and a guy from my friend group asked me to be his date. He’s nice and all that, but I just don’t really see myself going out with him - not in any way, shape or form for that matter. And I’m certain that one of my other friends has been on the brink of asking him out for the entire year now, so I really don’t want to take that chance away from him.”

A massive weight fell from Jesper’s shoulders. It did not sound like you’d take your friend up on that offer, so at least he did not have to worry about that. “A ball? That’s awfully prestigious. Even for you.”

“Trust me, it is. The invitations for all the different merchants and university officials have already been sent out, and I can just tell that it’s going to be one hell of a celebration. I bet that boss of yours would have a field day.”

“Celebrations aren’t really Kaz’s thing.”

“Well, that’s surprising. Looks like he and I do have something in common.”

He cocked his brow, his head dropping to lean on his hands. “I didn’t think you were such a grump when it comes to a good party.”

“I’m not a grump, I’m just not in the mood to listen to my friends bombarding me with questions on why I don’t have a date and stuff. They do that every year, even though most of them are just as single as I am. It’s still a real pain in the ass though.”

“I’m sure I’m free on that day if you’re still looking for someone damnably handsome and incredibly charming to impress your friends,” Jesper quipped half-jokingly. He knew that it was terribly forward to even imply that he could be your date for a ball he quite literally had no idea about, but his mouth moved faster than the cogs in his mind.

You were visibly baffled by his offer - no matter whether it was meant as a joke or he was being completely serious. The thought of asking Jesper to be your date for the ball had crossed your mind before, more often than you would have liked to admit, but you would have never actually went through with it. That boundary had always felt too treacherous to cross.

“Would you?”

He startled, his fidgeting stopping in an instant. “Would I what?”

“I mean, uhm, if I would ask you to go with me would you say yes?” Your face was on fire by the end of your sentence and there was a voice inside your head telling you that this detrimental string of words just fucked up your entire friendship. “Strictly platonic, of course,” you added quickly.

“Is this you asking me?”

“Is this you saying yes?”

“How could I say no?” A mischievous glint flashed across his eyes, but you were too discomposed to notice. “I’d love to mingle with you and all your other overachieving university friends. If you’ll have me, of course.”

“I’d love to, Jes. And I’m sure you’ll get along with my other overachieving university friends just fine.”

When it was finally time to return to the Slat, Jesper couldn’t stop smiling. You wanted him to be your date.

Date. The word sounded too good to be true. And he supposed it sort of was. You explicitly said that it was merely platonic, but his mind was filled with thoughts of spending a whole evening with you. He was in way too deep to turn around now.

The note you had given him before saying goodbye was still in his hands when he left the University District. You had quickly jotted down the place, date and time of the gala and handed it to him, your hands lingering on his just a bit too long for him to act normal about it.

“There are two rules if you want to accompany me though: wear something nice,” you said after you had hugged him goodbye. “And don’t be late.”

That would surely be easy enough. Especially since he still had literal months to prepare for it.

Taglist:

Grishaverse fics in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light @pomagranteseeds @treasureofmy-heart

Jesper Fahey: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @writingmysanity @fall-writes

#jesper fahey x reader #grishaverse x reader #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows x reader #jesper fahey #grishaverse fanfic #grishaverse #netflix shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone

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pxppxrminty · 2 years ago

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Hi!! Can I please get a matchup for stranger things, both eras of Harry Potter and lotr please? I'm a straight female and my pronouns are she/her

Physical description - I'm 5'9 and I have long and curly dark brown hair and brown eyes. I have a fair skin tone, I'm slim and I've got full lips and slight dark circles under my eyes. I dress mostly in relaxed suits, blazers and coats and I love the occasional dress or sweaters layered over a white button down! I think my aesthetic is dark academia with a little bit of 90s mixed in?

Hobbies/likes - I love reading, my favorite genres are poetry, Russian lit, and mysteries! I love learning about new things and knowing a little bit of everything, I'm very interested in psychology, history, mythology and folklore, and fashion! I adore adventures, witty and playful banter, joking around and having indepth discussions on anything and everything! I adore all forms of art and I have quite a few creative hobbies! I listen to a lot of modern/indie rock and I love watching psychological thrillers and romcoms.

Personality description - It takes me a while to feel comfortable around new people but once I do, I become really talkative and outgoing. I love helping out and I'm the therapist friend, people come to me to vent or for advice and comfort. I'm smart and ambitious; I love being the best at everything I do. I sometimes struggle with the hardwork and conviction needed to get there though, and I'm deathly afraid of failure and disappointing the people I love. I'm quite the hopeless romantic and I love being in love! I also daydream a lot and I can get lost in my own world for hours. I can be quite dramatic and stubborn and I tend to be withdrawn and distant at times. I get frustrated easily and I'm quietly competitive. My love languages are quality time (receiving) and acts of service (giving)

Thank you very much!! I hope you have a wonderful day 🌟

Hiiii! Thank you so much for this request!! I’m so so sorry it took me so long to get to this! I’ve been dealing with some stuff offline, but I’m back now and I hope this will suffice!

I’d match you with SAM!

— Oh my gosh, he would adore you so much!

— I feel like at first he’d be super shy about showing you off and stuff but really he loves bragging about you to the others

— your guys’ matched stubbornness and determination can either cause friction or be a powerful asset against whatever you’re up against

— he’s always checking up on you and making sure you aren’t overwhelming yourself with work or with other people’s problems

— I definitely think he’s got a garden or something where he’d take you to relax if you’ve been over stressed

— he’d also be such a good listener

— if you took up gardening, he’d be ecstatic

— I mean little hobbit boi would be thrilled that he can share something he’s passionate about with someone he’s passionate about

— ugh cuteness overload

I’d match you with REMUS!

— ok my academic-rivals-to-lovers senses are tingling

— ok ok it’s cliche sure

— but c’mon

— once you both realize that you like each other, you stop fighting over O.W.L. practice exam scores and instead help each other study

— now that doesn’t mean you guys don’t stop being academic rivals, just more tame

— the Marauders had definitely teased Remus about liking you for ages before he got fed up and just asked you out

— now you just kinda got absorbed into the Marauders

— I feel like you guys are that couple that just like cuddle and read books together that every book nerd is envious of

— Hogsmeade dates are a must

— when you found out that he was a werewolf he was terrified you would shun him or break up with him

— when you assured him that you wouldn’t and that you weren’t terrified or disgusted by him he was so relieved

— he definitely fell in love with you then

I’d match you with FRED!

— Oh dear lord the chaos he’d cause in your life

— he’s always playing pranks on you

— he also constantly tries to remind you to loosen up if your in a work slump

— despite his chaotic nature, he really would love you

— he’d be your number one supporter and make sure to encourage you in everything you do

— And I mean everything

— he’s also definitely going to be big on pda

— constantly has an arm around you

— kisses all the time

— he also always knows what to do to engage you in a deep discussion

— like please he loves listening to you ramble

— so sometimes he comes over to you with a really bizarre or obscure question either about what you’re reading or about mythology

— just so he can hear you rant about it

I’d match you with STEVE!

— I feel like you two would have such like domestic old married couple vibes

— like he’d come home from dealing with the kids and he’s just like “let me tell you what those gremlins did today-“

— And then you’d have to unwind with a movie

— if you come and visit him at work, trust, he will be trying to (and probably failing at) showing off for you

— Also, now you and Robin are besties because that’s just how it works

— he loves your style and always wants to go shopping with you

— also I’m 90% sure that playing with his hair is necessary

— He’s also going to encourage you no matter what

— “It’s not just you against the world, you’ve got me too”

#matchups #the lord of the rings #stranger things #harry potter #marauders

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ao3screenshotss · 3 years ago

Note

25 days of Heathers by deadbreadrunning includes this gem written by one of our headmates

#‘and yet you still can’t eat milk’#is she like really academically smart but really hopeless at life #i feel like she is #thank you for submitting!!

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delvalentine · 3 years ago

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jjk college au yuta/reader thought dump…

Yuta Okkotsu - Open Studies

- major is currently open studies since he doesn’t know what he wants to do yet, but i feel like he’d easily graduate with honours in whatever field he sets his mind to

- was a loner in high school who longs to change in university despite lacking the confidence, struggling with his self esteem

- the type of guy who gets an all consuming crush after somebody holds the door open for him. so touch starved too he’ll think about accidentally brushing hands with the barista for weeks

- was randomly assigned as roommates with toge and joined the friend group that way

- such immense hopeless virgin energy. never even had a first kiss, shuts down when speaking to anybody ever, ruins his own opportunities because of his own social anxiety… but he just wants to be loved :(

- had a crush on maki and even confessed to her before finding out she’s never had feelings for a man before in her life .. they’re good friends now but the embarrassment still haunts him

- rika is not a curse in this AU but was his first childhood crush he can remember. they parted ways a long time ago but she is alive and well (🥲)

Toge Inumaki - BSc (Computer Science)

- he can talk because he doesn’t have cursed speech in this AU, he just prefers to use sign language or type on a phone so most people will think he’s deaf and leave him alone

- he was happy to befriend yuta and genuinely wants to help him however he can

- very smart when it comes to computers; can easily hack and doxx the shit out of anybody. he can absolutely be heartless towards internet villains and trolls and is somewhat of a robin hood, exposing corruption or sexual offenders etc etc

- exceptionally good at video games; probably a faceless streamer or vtuber who gets hella views because he’s just that good. he’d probably try to get yuta into games too but he sucks so yuta just watches which works for the two of them. he could easily excel in esports but isn’t interested since they’d ask him to show his face in competitions and he hates the idea of fame (and capitalism)

- yuta’s first real friend in uni

Maki Zenin - BSc Honours (Cellular, Molecular, & Microbial Biology)

- raging lesbian. loud and proud. got disowned because of it but she doesn’t regret coming out. she wants to become a famous and successful researcher out of spite to her homophobic parents

- is going to be the one to cure cancer probably. super academically driven and intelligent. captain of a martial arts club despite only being in first year

- affectionate bully, fiercely independent, hates vulnerability & a massive tsundere like canon 🥰

- yuta’s main wingman, always trying to set him up with anybody she can

- she doesn’t talk to mai much anymore since mai didn’t want to get disowned too, but like in canon, she still cares about her sister and is the only family member she doesn’t hate. she does wish mai would’ve supported her openly sometimes but understands why she didn’t.

Panda - BA (Anthropology)

- has heritage from a black parent and a white parent and is also a big guy, hence his nickname of panda, which is the name he prefers to go by. human in this AU

- isn’t it funny for a panda bear to study humans 🤯

- the chillest and most outgoing of the group, also rooting for yuta to find a girlfriend but more lowkey about it than maki

Reader / MC - BSc Honours (Cellular, Molecular, & Microbial Biology)

- a third year in their college

- in the same major as maki and is her upperclassman. really good friends with maki since you both have the same personality type of overachieving, bullying the people you like, and not taking any bs

- you’re not sure if this is the right major even if you’re academically gifted and ‘successful’. but it’s “too late” to drop out or switch majors you think, so you do it just to do it and fulfil others’ expectations

- recently dumped by a long term boyfriend and trying to recover.

- meets yuta at a college party but wasn’t interested (yet!) since he froze up and didn’t say much at the time

- slowly warming up to yuta as he pursues you; gently turning him down as a boyfriend but accepting him as a friend instead

- that friendship starting to feel different when HE becomes different; more forward, more confident, more personable, but still him .. you start to think about him on your tinder dates, wonder if it’d be okay to try going out with him even after rejecting him more than once (he never gave up)

- but you’re nearing graduation and then your ex wants to get back together and your family is stressing you out with demands and you don’t even know what you want anymore because sometimes being a young adult is too much to take

- is he the answer?

#yuta okkotsu #jjk #chye's fics #this is a draft for a college au reader/yuta fic that is entirely self indulgent with a reader insert label slapped on LOL

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olderthannetfic · 3 years ago

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LOLOL

I'm sure it's already obvious, but yes, my family retains an especially rich vein of folksy expressions from who the fuck knows when.

These include both relatively well known (if you’re 80 and a farmer) expressions such as “the cap sheaf” and “a tough row to hoe” and epically confusing shit like “kegeled up” (meaning balanced precariously, e.g. plates stacked near the edge of the counter--evidently from a word for bowling pins) and a word that sounded like “gleekid” that I could never figure out until an ex of mine was reading a famous Scottish novel and discovered it was ‘glaikit’. In my family, it’s used for book smart space cadets who lack all situational awareness in regular life. I gather that in Scotland it’s used more for the intellectually challenged than for the smart-but-hopeless. “Stem to gudgeon” is especially choice. Nobody on that side of my family has been a fisherman in about 300 years. “I can’t conscion it” is another star of folksiness from my maternal grandmother. I’ve found this one on the internet, and it appears to be a dialectical thing. (It means you can’t condone something in good conscience.)

My mom sounded both like she ate a dictionary and like she grew up on an Ohio dairy farm in 1910. I’d say I got it from reading too much, but I really didn’t. My family is just like that. And that was before Mom spent her teen years living with a bunch of Jewish academics in Chicago and became an Annie Hall clone who found Yiddish intriguingly exotic.

There are many lulz in my dialect is what I’m saying.

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writingsfromhome · 4 years ago

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Bad Timing I(.5)

A/N: This is the sort of backstory to Harry and you, I think it can be read on its own if you want, or before you read the first part too. It’s angsty af, but it has some death and sensitive topics jsyk. I tried to keep it concise but it got a little wordy as angst does. xx

Part 1

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

About 12 Years Ago:

“So are you coming to that party or not?” My roommate asks. She was one of the first people I’d met last year when we started uni and even though we came from different backgrounds we remained friends over the last year, even choosing to room together again. She got me to open up and find the extroverted part of me that was able to enjoy uni outside of academics.

“Ugh, I’m volunteering for the voting booths for the rest of the week. Maybe if I can make it?”

“You’re actually doing that?” She scrunches her nose. “I don’t get it. You’re just way too nerdy to be my friend.”

“And yet you loove me,” I squeeze her against me and she laughs. “It’s my mom, she said I had to do at least one extracurricular so I could meet friends this year.”

“You already have friends,” she points to herself, and with her came her group of friends that’d quickly taken me in last year.

And my mom doesn’t like that I hang out with you, I think. She thought we partied too much even though my grades stayed decent. “She wants me to have nerdy friends too, I dunno. They’re helping me pay my tuition until I get a job so I kinda have to play nice.”

“Parents suck,” my roommate flicks through her closet. I agreed, this was just something I would get through to get through. Then they would leave me alone for the rest of the year.

Little did I know the person they’d partner me with at my polling station was someone who would be in my life for the next decade.

“I’m Harry by the way,” he’d said after we received our orientation and assigned the building we were going to babysit the votes in. “Second year.”

“Me too! I’m Y/N. What’s your major? I’ve never seen you around.”

“Law--well I haven’t decided if it’s law but that’s what I’m in right now.”

“Really? Law?” I was openly judging, he just didn’t seem the law type.

“Well what are you in?” He demands.

“Business,” I cringe.

“Really? Business?” He has a cheeky smile on, one that would become familiar to me.

“Well, you just don’t seem like the law type. They’re usually more uptight, dress way too smart for me.”

“I know, it’s like, we’re not even in the courtroom yet,” he joins in and it makes me laugh--how he could poke fun at his own people. That’s when I knew we would get along fine, and I actually looked forward to the next few days getting to know him better.

“I’m definitely telling my mum about you, she’s been begging me to make friends outside of my circle. I’ll tell her I’m friends with a law student.”

“So we’re friends already?” We’d reached our booth and began setting up the partitions. He takes over when I set it up wrong.

“Obviously,” I say. “I actually like you which means you’ll have a hard time getting rid of me.”

“I’m alright with that,” he grins and I notice the laugh lines that are brought to life as he does. It somehow made him seem more genuinely.

We spend the rest of the time swapping stories, classes, rants. We check student IDs and hand out voting cards in between but it doesn’t feel like a drag anymore. At the end of the day, I invite him to the party my roommate was going to with our friends. If he was going, maybe I would too. He seemed like he might be fun at a party.

“Er,” he suddenly seems nervous. “I’ll have to ask my girlfriend, she wanted to hang out tonight.”

“Well bring her too!” I say excitedly. “Is she law as well?”

“No, she’s in the arts.”

“I like her already,” I push. “Bring her, my friends are fun you’ll learn how to have a good time.”

“I know how to have a good time,” there was the flash of his dimples again. “Text me the address.”

And thus began a friendship for the next four years, partying together, studying together (trying to), and hanging out in each other’s rooms. We would set each other up with other friends, double dated, went out for sunrise-hikes, and took long drives at night when we had to blow some steam off from being over-stressed, over-studied uni students. Our friend circles overlapped, the fabric of our lives eventually bleeding together. We were made of the same fibers, sticking together even after uni, when our friends got more serious about their careers. When they moved out of the country or to another city, we made sure to rent places close enough that we could still see each other often. And somehow, in the new chapter of our lives, without the partying and our other friends to buffer, we became closer than before.

We cared for each other--we didn’t deny that ever. And somehow that platonic love turned romantic as we depended on each other while we navigated adulthood. I can’t exactly pinpoint where things changed, but one evening our relationship was changed forever.

7 years ago:

“She literally wants me to stay until 7, and she was offended when I said no! I’m not even getting paid for that!” I was bitching to Harry about my shitty job.

“That’s bollocks” Harry shrugs. “Just say you’ve got family obligations or something.”

“I said that the one time she wanted us to come in on a weekend and she gave me shite work the following week! I just...I can’t afford to lose this job Harry.”

“That’s shitty, I’m sorry.” He takes the last swig of his beer. “Want another one?”

“I haven’t even finished this one,” I moan at my now warm beer that I’d been nursing for the last hour, too busy ranting to drink it. “It’s getting late though I should head home before it’s dark. Don’t want that nutter that hangs around my building to harass me again.”

“I’ll walk you home,” Harry suggests. He lived a 15 minute walk from me.

“No no,” I get up and take our dirty dishes to the sink. “I didn’t even ask about you, how was your day?”

“Same old,” he sighs against the counter. “I feel like I don’t fit in, everyone my age is finishing their law degree but I don’t think I want to.”

“I knew from the day I met you, you weren’t destined for the courtroom.” I pull him into a comforting hug. “Do what makes you happy, or what doesn’t make you want to say fuck it and quit your job to hibernate.”

“You really know the perfect thing to say,” Harry chuckles but he pulls me tighter against him. I stroke his back, reassuring him he’d be alright in the end.

“Y/N-” he pulls away to say something but freezes mid sentence. I raise an eyebrow but he’s still, staring at my face.

“Harry?” I ask, but he continues staring. “Hello? You alright?”

“Yeah,” he breaks into a sudden smile. That was weird--I make sure he’s okay before letting go.

Before I leave, I kiss Harry’s cheek goodbye--I was never shy in the affection I gave my friends and Harry’s bummed mood needed extra affection tonight. But what I don’t expect is for him to catch me before I pull away, staring intently into my eyes. The lighthearted energy between us disappears instantly as it dawns on me, how close we were, the unspoken feelings in his eyes, the hesitation before he presses his lips to mine.

I kissed him back then, barely understanding what was happening, before pulling away. I give him a smile but that’s just what he sees at the tip of the iceberg, underneath my mixed feelings churn away. My best friend just kissed me, and I wasn’t totally mad about it.

“It’s getting dark I-” I say as Harry says, “Sorry was that okay?”

We laugh awkwardly, neither of us sure what to do at this point. We decide to ignore it instead.

“I’ll talk to you later,” Harry lets me go and opens the door for me. “Watch out for the neighbourhood nutter yea?”

I stand in place, feeling the fibers of our friendship unraveling but feeling hopeless in mending the tear. “Take care Harry.”

I high tail it out, my thoughts going at an impossible rate as I sort out what happened. And we try to ignore it the next couple weeks,

We hadn’t made it official then, too nervous to face what this meant about our friendships. It was only at my sister’s wedding, that I realised what was wrong between us. I’d been mourning our old friendship, and avoiding him in the weeks since the kiss. But what I didn’t realise was that our friendship had been changing over the last year anyway, and getting drunk on champagne and dancing with Harry, while my sister celebrated the happiest day of her life, made me realise there was a cause for celebration here: a new chapter in our lives.

A couple days later, after a stressful day at work, I’d taken the tube to his flat and waited for him outside. He was surprised to see me there, not saying much except to open the door and let me in. As soon as he’d closed it, my lips were attached to his and we’d let our bags drop, coats, and any piece of clothing between us. After that night, we didn’t even try to deny how we felt about each other.

“I didn’t think I could ever be this happy,” he’s whispered to me after. I thought he’d fallen asleep but his whisper in the dark made me grin to myself. “Are you awake.”

“I am. Awake and happy.” I turn to face him, giggling. “Who knew this could feel so right.”

“Our first kiss was quite wrong though wasn’t it?” Harry says and it makes me laugh.

“That’s why I needed to do a redo,” I tease. “Can’t leave you to plan anything.”

“It wasn’t planned I swear, I was trying to be spontaneous.”

“Let’s not try ‘spontaneous’ again then,” I kiss him in the dark. He pulls me snug against him, I never knew how safe it felt. The safest I would ever feel, wrapped in the warmth with my best friend and now something else.

It was a good few months, testing the waters as our relationship underwent a transformation. All of our friends were supportive, but we never missed the glances between them. Apparently, they were waiting for this to happen. But as sweet as those first few months had been, finding out my mum was sick with a timeline was devastating. I came apart at the seams but Harry stayed through it all, holding me together. He’d proposed then, wanting my mum to be part of the ceremony. We had a small wedding, intimate but still magical. It was bittersweet, the amount of love and happiness I felt towards Harry and our loved ones around us as he said I do and as he took my arm and swept me across the dancefloor. But the amount of sadness crushing my chest kept me from being the weightless bride I always thought I would be.

Through it all, Harry stayed by my side. While we were hopeful, the day our hopes were dashed, the days and weeks I mourned. When my sister and her husband came to stay with their crazy toddlers and Harry kept them entertained giving my sister and I time together. I thought he was perfect, that I’d lucked out.

That lasted a few years, 3 and a half to be exact. There were months leading up to our split and we could point to a bunch of things that could’ve led to it. a) him wanting kids, and me wanting to wait or b) long hours we worked as we changed careers and tried to make our way up or c) how hard getting pregnant actually was. Maybe I pushed him away, or he didn’t love me enough to try and make it work.

I think I lied to myself, avoiding the tension creeping into the relationship. The tired excuses and time spent apart, the lack of usual affection, or casual conversations. I was an idiot, I realise every time I think about the end in retrospect. Maybe if I caught on earlier I could have fixed us before we fell apart. Maybe I could have saved us.

“There’s someone coming in Tuesday morning to fix the broken washer, will you be home?” I ask, still in bed and scrolling through my phone. I hadn’t meant to be up this early but Harry woke me as he got up and I couldn’t fall back asleep.

“No,” Harry responds, his back to me as he ruffles through the dresser. “I’ve got a thing that morning.”

“Well I’ve got to go in early Tuesday-I thought you might be home.” I say. I hear an edge to Harry’s voice but I try not to focus on it. He’d been a little cold all weekend and I was scared to think what it meant.

“You couldn’t be bothered to check in when you confirmed the date?” Harry asks harshly.

“I...guess not.” I put my phone down and wait for Harry to turn, maybe I could read his expression. Maybe he was stressed. “Harry?”

“What?” He turns, but he looks at me with no emotion. No stress, no frustration, not even anger. It’s the lack of emotion in his face that cause my eyes to prick with tears. Harry raises his eyebrows and I shake my head, untangling myself from the sheets so he doesn’t see any tears. I rush to the bathroom but forget to close the door out of habit.

“Y/N,” a kinder Harry appears by the doorway. His face has smoothed out the harsh lines, his eyes hesitant and cautious.

“What’s happened with us?” I blurt out. “Why are you so cold all the time? Am I doing something wrong?”

Harry’s face falls and he walks towards me but doesn’t touch me. “It’s nothing like that. It’s...I don’t know. We should talk.”

He reaches his hand out but I flinch away. “Did you meet somebody new or something? What are we talking about?”

“Let’s not do this here. Right now.”

“Why not!” I finally had enough. “I’ve been walking on eggshells for months Harry! I don’t know what’s wrong and I keep waiting for you to bloody tell me!”

“This isn’t working!” Harry raises his voice to compensate for mine. I’m immediately silenced by the volume, and then the words sink in.

“Is there someone else?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer, his gaze on the hanging vines by the window. My heart drops into my stomach like a boulder, and I find it hard to breathe. I clutch the porcelain sink and ask in a surprisingly even tone, “Harry. Answer me.”

“What we have, Y/N...it’s dysfunctional.” He says quietly, meeting my eyes. “It doesn’t matter if there’s someone else, we’ve been fighting for months. Things aren’t the same between us-”

“Who is she?” I ask. I needed to know.

“That’s not relevant,” he shuts my question down quickly. “I’m sorry Y/N, I...I don’t want to hurt you. I care about you, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then don’t,” I’d pleaded. “We can go to counseling, talk it through-”

“I can’t Y/N.”

“Because of her.”

“No, because this isn’t good for either of us.” He’d walked up to me, cradled my face. “We’re not good for each other, not like this.”

“Who is she?” I yank his hands away.

“She’s...it doesn’t matter, I swear nothing happened between us Y/N. Knowing who she is isn’t going to help this situation--”

“It is! If it weren’t for her, you’d be willing to work on us--to see a future. You...Harry how could you do this to me? To us?” The tears come with no control. “You’re moving on before we’re even over. How are you giving up on us like that?”

“I’m not!” his voice booms in the tiled bathroom. “I’m not bloody giving up on us! I tried Y/N, so many times. I tried! You just keep pushing at me to be someone I’m not and-”

“I can say the same thing about you!” I throw the brush in my hands into the sink. “We were good! And you got it in your head you wanted a baby even though we’re young, oh my god Harry you kept pestering me to change my mind even though I told you I needed time!”

“It’s not like we could have a fucking baby anyway,” Harry says bitterly before realising what he’d said. “Shit-”

“There you go,” I mock. “I knew it. I knew you were holding that against me. And that,” I jab my finger into his chest. “Is what’s made you so moody, so mean and why we’re always fighting. You held it against me.”.

There was absolute truth to what I said. Last year, Harry had brought the baby topic up. I’d told him we were only in our mid-20s, we had a lot of time, and we still had a career to establish. But he would bring up the topic often enough that I’d given in.To make him happy. And months went by, trying for a baby. Went we finally went to our doctor, she’d told us why it was so hard, it could take us years she’d said.

Harry came home that day dejected, and left me feeling like a failure. I think it tore us up.

“You wanted a baby so fucking bad and when I couldn’t, it made me feel like a complete failure. And I told you that! And you did absolutely nothing to make me feel better. You held it against me, Harry! You didn’t even try to tell me it was okay.”

“It’s not so fucking simple,” he says, his cheeks flushed pink. Maybe it was anger, or maybe it was embarrassment from being confronted with an ugly truth.

“It is. And now you’ve upgraded to a newer model, maybe her version comes with a fertile womb.” I take the cheap shot.

He doesn’t say anything though. And I don’t know why that hurts more than knowing he’d fallen for another woman while he was still married to me. My best friend in the whole world had just broken my heart into a million irrevocable pieces.

“It’s a bunch of things Y/N,” he finally says. “That’s just part of it. We’re not...we’re just not working!”

“Did you even try to make it work?” I ask, swiping my sleeve across my face. “Did you ever think how I felt? How you made me feel Harry? You’ve been slipping away from me without talking to me-” I break off. I couldn’t speak through the heartbreak, the thunderstorm of grief threatens to consume me and my sobs are the only thing that manages to come out.

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Harry tries to place a hand on my shoulder but I jerk away, moving to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Y/N...”

“Just go,” I say through the tears.

“We can talk more about this later-”

"Just go,” I say louder.

Harry’s phone rings again from the bedroom and he sighs. But he leaves me, crying on the bathroom floor. The sadness that was always in my peripheral consumes me. I’d carried this sadness for a long time--ever since I found out my mum was sick, the sadness plagued me. I’d neatly packed it up once I decided to move forward with my life like my mum would want me to, but now it comes back tenfold, marrying the grief of losing Harry like this. And I stay on the floor crying my grief away for hours, eventually crawling into bed and sleeping the daylight away.

When I wake, it’s 6 and Harry isn’t home. I take that as a sign and get up to pack up a few things. I call my sister who still lived in London then, and crash on her couch, staying there for a few weeks and ignoring any call or text from Harry. When I need to go back, for my things, I find him sleeping on the couch with the TV on, something I always found endearing. But I can’t afford to dwell on how much it hurt seeing him like that.

He must have woken from the noise because when he finds me, he tries to stop me and tell me that we still needed to talk.

“About what?” I ask, just tired now. Too many tears shed and too many hours laying awake thinking about the exact moment we went wrong.

“Us,” Harry looked tired too. He was probably throwing himself into his work with nothing like me to hold him back, I think bitterly. His girlfriend had probably already been to our house--his house.

“What about us?” I barely look at him as I begin folding away all my clothes.

“I don’t know,” Harry sits on the bed. “Don’t you want to talk?”

“I’ve got nothing to say, do you?”

Harry sighs, “I don’t know.”

“Nice talk then,” I say, shoving the rest of my things in just so I could get out.

“I just want you to know I care about you Y/N, I don’t want to hurt you.” He says as I pack.

“It doesn’t matter anymore. If you cared about me, and you didn’t want to hurt me you wouldn’t have done this to us.”

“I wasn’t trying to--I didn’t mean to go and fall for someone else-”

“Just stop,” I cut him off. I couldn’t hear it, how the man I loved fell for someone else. I couldn’t break down here. Again.

He said he cared but it didn’t feel that way. It hurt more than I wished to admit. He knew what I’d been through and he still betrayed me, tossed my heart like it was replaceable. The cut he left in me ran deep.

As I leave he tries to talk to me, but I barrel past him. He still reaches for me and pulls me into a hug, I struggle against him but he’s too strong. He wraps me in his arms until I go still but it’s too much. A sob escapes me, and this time he lets me push him off and leave, my bag banging into my hips every time I take a step. As soon as I got into my Uber, I can’t stop crying. There was an infinite pool of tears where Harry was involved.

3 years ago:

My trust and my heart had been been lost in the war between Harry and I. It only took him a month to mail my divorce papers which sat collecting dust on my dining table until he showed up at work one day and demanded I sign them by the end of that week. I’d taken the day off the day I mailed those in, mourning the end of something that was once so safe and beautiful.

When a close friend calls me on a warm July afternoon, I don’t consider her warning that I shouldn’t check Instagram. That I still had Harry’s friends on my list. I open Instagram before she can tell me why, and see it. Harry was getting married, again. To the woman he gave up on us for. I try to zoom in on a picture without liking it, she was pretty...and blonde. She looked familiar--probably from his office. It didn’t take him long.

It was like someone had taken a retractor to the wound I thought had finally scabbed over. The physical proof that Harry had moved on is just the salt on the wound.

I cry myself to sleep that night.

2 Years ago;

The guy in front of me drones on about his job, mansplaining to me how a mortgage worked as if I wasn’t in finance myself. I excuse myself to use the restroom, checking my phone to see a text from my sister. She’d moved to Scotland this year, to where her husband was from, and I’d missed her terribly in the last year.

A little birdie told me your demon-ex just got divorced 🥂

I stare at the screen, chest feeling tight. I felt vindicated somehow, but I also felt a small bit of sadness. What a fuck-up.

Good for him I had texted back. A part of me wanted him to hurt the way he hurt me.

I went back to my date with a renewed enthusiasm. I’d ordered more wine and got so drunk he was actually interesting enough to take home.

About 1 year ago

“Y/N,” a voice from my past says, one that haunted me some nights. I turn as I exit the shop I was just in. I blink at the sight before me, Harry in a vest and hat. He realises what I’m staring at and laughs awkwardly. “I’m in uniform.”

“You’re...police?” I look up to his face finally. He hadn’t aged a day, although the hat he wears makes him look a little silly.

“Yeah I joined the force uhm...almost 4 years ago now...law didn’t really suit me.”

I know what he was doing, trying to find a baseline to have a conversation. But he was dead to me, and I didn’t want to invite him back in when I was finally forgetting about him.

"Seems like you dropped a lot of dead-weight four years ago.”

I watch his face fall as he realises I wasn’t going to pretend to be friendly.

“Seems that way to you,” he says cautiously. “But that’s not how it happened.”

I shrug. “So. I heard about the divorce. Must’ve been hard being put through that.”

I knew I was being petty, obviously I never got the closure I want (according to my therapist) and I wasn’t over him hurting me the way he did (also according to my therapist). This was how I got my peace, and it wasn’t the best version of me but it was the only one I knew how to be right now.

“Yep,” he crosses his arms over his chest. “So, are you seeing anyone?”

He knew I wasn’t, I don’t know how but the way he stoops to my level I know he knows I hadn’t had a long term relationship since him.

“Not at the moment,” I say awkwardly. “Just focusing on my job...trying to get this promotion.”

“Sorry,” he seems to shake off whatever had come over him. “That was...nosy, I shouldn’t have asked.”

Having him be the bigger person sets something off in me, like there was an anger-bomb inside my mind where he lived and knowing that he was doing okay enough to be able to be the bigger person disrupts this calm I was trying to keep.

“Maybe you shoudn’t have stopped me to ask anything at all. We don’t have anything to talk about anyway.”

I turn around and start to walk away but he catches up, “I wasn’t trying to upset you-”

“Well you have a way of doing that. Please just leave me alone Harry.”

He huffs beside me, “After all this time, can’t we just bloody talk like two adults?”

I freeze and turn to him slowly. He seems to sense this was the wrong thing to say because he takes a step back. “After all this time? Are you serious? I was the one you left behind Harry when you went off to lives your best lift Harry. We’re not living the same life, and we’re not coming from the same bloody place. Don’t fucking patronize me and ask me to talk to you like an adult when you bring out the worst part of me. I meant what I said: I want you to leave me alone. And you know what, if we ever run into each other again, just don’t even talk to me. Pretend you don’t know me. I want nothing to do with you.”

He opens his mouth but his partner calls him from the shop’s entrance. He stays silent, letting me go. As soon as I turn the street corner I rush the rest of the way to the tube, collapsing into a seat and trying to sort out my breathing. It was a shitty feeling, knowing someone was going to be in your life forever because you shared so much history that even when that part of your life ended they were still there. There was so much apart of me, around me, that reminded me of him. And it felt so lonely carrying that around. I wanted to be done with him, I wanted my heart to purge him out. But it couldn’t stop carrying him around everywhere I go.

#Harry Styles #harry styles fic #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles series #detective!harry #backstory #this one made me sad to write #but ALSO #if there are any errors #no there is not

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dddemigirl · 4 years ago

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I’m close to halfway done with Midnight Sun and I have some thoughts. It bothers me how much SMeyer writes Bella as the definition of “not like the other girls,” but also how much I see myself in Bella. Disgusting, considering Bella is Smeyer’s self insert. The clumsiness, not wanting to be the center of attention, being nerdy, being terrible at sports and dancing. I can relate to that stuff. Certainly not the fiction protagonist I’d want to find myself in.

Some other things that intrigue me; was Edward always unable to put together Charlie‘s thoughts? I don’t remember that. Granted I haven’t read the books or watched the movies since I was a young teenager. I was also wondering about Tanya and the Denali Clan, did they have much of a role? Something that surprises me is how teenager-ish Edward’s actions/thoughts can be. When I first read the books I always saw him as mature, so sure of himself. I guess one would be if they were as old as he is but Midnight Sun really reminds us that this emo sparkle boy is mentally 17.

Speaking of the Cullens, I love how much I’m seeing of their banter and personalities compared to what I remember from Bella’s POV. I’m really into the potential vampire lore that Smeyer denied us. I feel like if this story wasn’t so focused on Edward and Bella we could’ve seen that stuff fleshed out. Where do other vampires live in the US? Where in other countries? What are their laws or activities? We see so little of other vampire clans outside of the big battle scene in Breaking Dawn (?) or when we occasionally are introduced to the Cullens’ vampire friends. You’re telling me that Edward is the only vampire to ever develop feelings for a human? That every other group of vampires just see humans as prey? I know the Cullens are considered different from many for being “vegetarians” and for living as a family but still.. Also! Stephanie Meyer, your obnoxious Mormon ass incidentally went and wrote Alice as sapphic. I bet you’d hate it if you knew some of your readers thought this. The way Alice talks about loving Bella?? Hello??? Edward even refers to Alice being Bella’s girlfriend. I know this is being used in the way straight women refer to their friends as “girlfriends,” which is super obnoxious to me as a lesbian, but come on..! Alice is sapphic and polyamorous. I’m calling it. She is happy for Edward and Bella and truly loves Jasper but she has feelings for Bella too. No one can take this from me. Okay, so onto another topic. We all hate how racist this series is, it’s so focused on white people and has racist writing choices. I would’ve liked if the Cullens were diverse. Not just in race but in sexuality, gender, perhaps there could’ve been disabled vampires? Think about it; these are killing machines with great physical ability, would any physical disability they had as humans be gone with their change to vampirism? I think it would be good writing and good representation to have say, a vampire in a wheelchair for example. As someone with dyscalculia and ADHD I would enjoy reading about learning disabilities as well. Meyer writes about how smart Edward and Bella are in academics. I grew up learning that I would never truly be perceived as smart because of my dyscalculia and other learning disabilities.

I also like the idea of a trans vampire, someone who spends their new life as an immortal working on their gender expression how they see fit and becoming happiest with their body. They have all the time in the world after all. Obviously give me all of the lgbt vampires please. Onto race diversity, I had a thought, could a Native vampire exist in the Twilight canon? Imagine a Native who feels conflicted with their new vampire identity and how their heritage warns them to stay away from the Cold Ones. Becoming the thing your family and community despise and having to decide where your loyalties lie, if your loved ones would even accept you? Smeyer did the Quileute tribe soooo fucking dirty. I am so pissed. Who the fuck... what the fuck? Who the fuck involves an indigenous community in their writing, without permission, and doesn’t give said tribe funds from their earnings from the book(s)?? This lady’s racist, homophobic, slut shaming, holier than thou attitude is so prevalent in her writings and it worries me because she influenced a whole generation of young teenagers with her books. I was one of them. Not to mention she tried to play off that Edward and Jacob’s treatment of Bella were somehow romantic and healthy! Today’s young adults saw that shit! You’re a grown woman Stephanie. You romanticized toxic behaviors in your books targeted toward a young and impressionable audience. I’m thinking about how many of today’s preteens and teenagers will go read the Twilight saga for the first time due to Midnight Sun’s release. They will think that racism, predatory relationships and shaming girls for liking popular things (See Bella “not like other girls” Swan for reference) is acceptable. I’m a hopeless romantic, a dreamer, so I hate when these books easily make me go “aww” internally even when I know it’s not “aww,” it’s unhealthy. I’m old enough to know what is a red flag in Bella’s relationships but not everyone who reads them is old enough to understand that yet. Baby me certainly didn’t see how Edward and Jacob were both not good for Bella. I was too caught up in the Team Edward and Team Jacob craze. (Baby me was Team Jacob by the way. I’m a trashy furry who loves werewolves, I can’t help it.)

My final thoughts for now anyway: in the dedication our wonderful author says that this book is for the fans who were first young teens when reading Twilight, something like that. She writes that she hopes we achieved our dreams. Not the exact wording but you get it. I remember when I read that dedication page I felt immeasurable sadness. I haven’t reached my goals, lived my dreams or become a successful young adult. I’m still that socially awkward, clumsy, unremarkable person I was when I first read and watched this story. (Ew. Once again why do I sound like how Smeyer describes Bella? I’m cringing.) I’m stuck being a nobody because I’m too scared to change. I know this rant is about Midnight Sun/the Twilight saga and isn’t about me but damn that shit hit me like a ton of bricks.

#alexa rambles #sorry this is so messy #midnight sun #twilight renessaince #the twilight saga #edward cullen #bella swan #jacob black #stephanie meyer #sparkly vampires #bella x edward #bella x jacob #team edward #team jacob #team bella

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leavetwn · 4 years ago

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* KAYLEE BRYANT, CISWOMAN + SHE/HER | you know SUZIE TANAKA, right? they’re TWENTY-ONE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, EIGHTEEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to VALENTINE BY HOPE TALA like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole ROLLERSKATES SCUFFED FROM YEARS OF USE, STARTING A JOURNAL ENTRY TWO YEARS SINCE THE LAST ONE, A SIGH OF RELIEF ONCE YOU'RE FINALLY ALONE thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is NOVEMBER 28TH, so they’re a SAGGITARIUS, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( claire, 22, est, she/her )

it’s me again ! bringing a character who i’ve played for a while now, just switched up & such for every rp, and now , i’m bringin her here. :^) i hope you enjoy her as much as i do! tw: mentions of mental illness (anxiety)

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 .

full name: suzie tanaka. nickname(s): su, anything your muse wants to call her tbh. age: twenty-one. date of birth: november 28th. zodiac sign: saggitarius. gender/pronouns: ciswoman, she/her. sexual orientation: bisexual. romantic orientation: biromantic. hometown: san francisco, californio. current residence: irving, north carolina. occupation: part time waitress at cutie pie’s thanks to her skills on skates. full time student at the local college in her junior year as a creative writing major. she minors in film pro eye color: brown. hair color/style: dark brown, upper-mid back length & she usually just wears it in a simple ponytail. it’s more manageable when she’s out. however, when she’s at home, she’ll leave it down. height : 5′3″. clothing style: you can’t really put suzie’s style into one category. it’s inspired by several different eras & many times she pieces it together. some might call it a bit tacky at times, but she thinks it looks cute. to her, that’s all that matters. tattoos: none. probably could never attempt to get one cause she’s seriously afraid of needles lol. piercings: her ears and that’s when she was fairly young. reference the tattoos portion for reasoning.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 .

when you were around six years old , you first realized that you were lonely. it wasn’t like you weren’t around other people. it was just that those people were mostly your mom and dad. occasionally your cousins would come over sometimes, but they were all older than you by at least four years. your parents were kind of eccentric, and for that, they experienced how harsh other kids could be very early on. they decided they didn’t want you to experience the same things, so since both were felt they were prepared enough to do so, they homeschooled you to keep you sheltered from those types of things.

you’re sure they had good intentions. that’s not something you questioned, but you wished they’d at least find another kid you could be friends with or have another kid. you found yourself bored by yourself, so you immersed yourself in things like books or whatever movies they had around the house. this is where your love of fairytales began, and you’d fantasize about living in one while you read or watched the stories unfold.

you lived in your head, and you still pretty much do. you’re an idealist, even though you haven’t seen much of the world. perhaps it’s the fact that you haven’t ventured very far from your home that makes you so, and while life could still be boring, you always had another book or movie to keep you company. you grew content being on your own, and the more that you were, the more you began to enjoy your own company.

that didn’t change the fact that you longed for friends. in all the stories you read or watched, the protagonist had one other person along with them for much of their journey. sure, you had people that you were friendly with, but it was never to the extent that you wanted. it was never a best friend or a close group — just someone you saw on few occasions. it also didn’t help how you felt when you were around others. the way you monitored every step you took, the way you crossed your legs, or going over the way you would speak to someone in your head over and over. you figured for the longest time it was because you were shy, but a diagnosis of anxiety gave you a lot more clarity and almost a sense of relief. those things started to make more sense.

being alone helped a lot when it came to academics. you spent a lot of your time studying or looking up random ass facts on the internet, and because of this, you’d call yourself fairly smart. you know your shit. it also helped a lot when getting into colleges. you didn’t aim too high though, not yet comfortable being all the way on your own. so, you chose the nearby university to attend.

you move out. you’re excited, and your parents are nervous but prepared. they’re not oblivious to the fact that this day would come. you’re ready to go out and face the world, but most of all, you’re ready to make friends. you’re ready to go out and experience the world, every small step at a time. you’re convinced at college you’ll become a brand new person, find yourself, and make plenty of friends.

it doesn’t go like that at first. of course it doesn’t. it’s a new environment, and it takes getting used to. but soon, people loosen up and warm up to you. you’re quick to make a couple of friends. it isn’t at all like the stories you’d read or watched when you were younger. it is happy and fun and joyous, but you realize that friendships take work. it’s a bit exhausting, as someone who had become such an introvert, but you manage and form close bonds.

as of now, you are working on your degree and managing life one step at a time. you’re doing pretty well, and things are looking up. you keep your head in the clouds still to this day, imagining what the future will be like. you’re still idealistic and optimistic, not that that’s a bad thing.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 .

i was being exaggerative with the ‘being at home’ stuff rip. i mean, she did spend a lot of time at home, but she wasn’t always there. her dad would take her out to rockin’ and rollin’, and i mean, she fuckin rocks when it comes to skating. it was kind of freeing to her as a child. she def got a pair of rollerblades as a christmas present, and she probably was the kid skating down her neighborhood road and shit from sunrise until her mom told her to take her ass inside.

maybe seems like she’s ditzy and she’s probably somewhat naive, but she’s definitely not stupid. she’s also a fast learner. she is, however, too nice for her own good. she’ll learn eventually, but she’s hopeful and an optimist at heart 💔

loves her dad but tells her mom everything. she doesn’t recognize it, but her mom was probably her first best friend lmaoo. they have a really good relationship. she has a good relationship with her dad too. he’s a bit more closed off than her mom, and she recognizes that but understands.

has an irrational fear that everyone’s like,,, staring at her & thinking she’s weird. really wants everyone to like her but she’s not sure how to make that happen (news flash, it won’t)

her fam is actually from san francisco but when she was 3, her dad got a better offer in irving so that’s how they ended up here. she knows this & she wonders what life woulda been like if she stayed back in san fran. probably wouldn’t have changed but she literally lives in her head and imagines shit like that’s her job at this point so yehhh

dreams of being a screenwriter and maybe even a director one day. she saw how film and books influenced her life as a kid & she wants to have the same impact, yk? v cute to me i love that. maybe she’ll write a book one day too who knows

i’m feelin like she has a ton of online friends cause she was seeking connection /w people so it makes sense. shout out to all her online pals who kept her sane & shit, but it wasn’t enough for her cause she really wanted those kinds of things irl.

is a hopeless romantic rip to her. just wants someone to sweep her up off her feet and give her butterflies but this aint no damn fairytale so let’s make it chaotic

character parallels: lily (dash & lily, 2020) , amélie poulain (amélie, 2001) , belle in some ways lmao (beauty and the beast, 1991) more to be added.

𝐈. ━━ ˟ ⊰ ✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 .

* friends, best friends, etc. — literally any friends at all. this is the connection she craves the most tbh. platonic over romantic periodt ! she just wants people to braid her hair and have deep, personal convos with about literally anything while legally blonde is on the television.

* a bad influence — i mean, she stayed inside mostly & is kind of an introvert. didn’t have tons of friends either, so she didn’t really have time to go to parties, etc. BE A BAD INFLUENCE SHE NEEDS TO LET LOOSE LMAOO. it’ll prolly take a lot to get her out but hey

* good influence — someone she’s a good influence on & who she helps in some way. i could see it happenin’. if you see it happening, i mean... hmu you know where i am mwah 💖

* crush — someone she’s head over heels with. i mean, it probably wouldn’t take a lot. in my head she be catching feelings way too fast. it’s just a thing, but yeah, it could go either way. maybe your character is into her too or she’ll end up getting her heart broken which is lmao bound to happen one day. could also be someone who’s crushing on her but she’s way to busy focusing all her romantic attention on someone else to notice? idk i’m just here for all the plots.

* annoyance — someone who finds her ass annoying/does not like her. she wants everyone to like her so it would be so confusing and upsetting and she would be like wtf did i do but i want it cause i love angst. sorry to all my muses out there luv yall but i’m just bein real

* again, anything at all — if you have an idea that you love, pls don’t hesitate to hmu and lemme know. i promise i will 99.9% of the time be down. the same goes for any wanted connection doodads that i reblog like if u see it and ur like omg i luv that... PLEASE hmu i luv u all already & just wanna have plots and write with you srsly

#irvingintro #well there u have it my last one done i am so THANKFUL AND HAPPY #takes a bow #the way it's almost 4 am see i did not lie i am up forever

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fimflamfilosophy · 5 years ago

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Characters: Tearing Each Other Together

After the world-sweeping success of my previous article (forty notes on Tumblr, wow!) and being driven out of my house due to mold for the second time in two months, I think the time is right to add another essay to the subject of character design and writing. But what’s left to say after having definitely solved the entire process of character writing the last time?

Well, suppose you can figure out the emotional state of one person. That’s well and good, and oddly harder for people than you might imagine. And I think the reason it’s so hard is because in virtually any show you’re not going to be given a character in a vacuum to learn that process from. They have some story, something they’re trying to overcome, and other characters they’re bouncing off of, and the actual process of conflict is more complicated than knowing who your characters are.

Hate, Love, or Indifference, It’s All A Struggle

So what’s the essence of a story? There’s some motive that’s trying to be achieved. A conflict. And I can’t stress this enough. Conflict. Because it’s one thing if you say your main character is a kid who wants to be the best Poke’mon trainer and completely another to have that be a concrete objective with a satisfying story and conclusion. Wanting to be the “best” isn’t actually conflict. It’s a dream. Being forced to travel the known world to acquire eight gaudy pins that probably cost twenty-five cents each to manufacture? That’s conflict.

And not only do you have to travel the world, you do so with a shrill red-head who explicitly hates you because you trashed her bike, and a sex-starved pervert whose life dream is to make Poke’mon mate with each other for a living. And that’s important. Without Misty and Brock, Ash’s journey is a lot less interesting for a lot of reasons. Misty calls Ash out every time he messes up, and aside from being on a watch list, Brock is a helpful older character who tells Ash, and therefore the audience, what’s what.

But let’s back up, because people understand the benefit of Brock and Misty at a basic level, but when you’re starting off, how do you know who those people should be? Well, every show, from sitcom, to comedy to drama, does its best to balance personalities against each other so there’s always some sort of conflict possible between them.

Now, “conflict” doesn’t mean they’re trying to kill each other. It could mean they’re falling in love with each other. Maybe it means they don’t have much in common but have to work together over long hours in isolation. The idea is simply that there’s something to overcome between these people. Misty thinks Ash is stupid - that’s a conflict which is often leveraged to push Ash forward. Brock, however, has a reactive role in the show, only functioning in conflict when a womanizer who grovels at the feet of ladies Ash is already helping anyway.

It’s odd because if Misty were older she would be set up very well as kind of an “opposites” romantic torture device with Brock. They’re even depicted as professional equals, which would have made their levels of expertise and experience more balanced. Had they been closer in apparent age, a “will they won’t they” romance would have fit adequately, with Brock’s constant hitting on other women serving as a major, hopeless, long-lasting roadblock to a serious relationship between them; it would work especially well because Misty is established to have an inferiority complex to her prettier sisters. It also might help explain why Brock hung around so long. But as it was, Brock’s main contribution to the inner dynamic was to act as a mediator, caretaker, and mentor.

But circling back to Brock’s dream of Poke’mon husbandry. Well, on the meta level that’s why he doesn’t leave. Because it’s not a motive, he’s not taking steps towards it, and it’s not going to happen, it’s just a dream. Until it does happen, anyway, and then they wrote him out of the show - but we’ll dig more into this later.

Balancing Imbalance

The best place to look to see good conflict set ups between characters are popular sitcoms. Consider the show “Frasier”: it ran for eleven seasons and revolved mainly around the personal spats of Frasier, his brother Niles, their dad, and the dad’s caretaker, Daphne. Frasier was arrogant, Niles was insecure, Dad was an earnest roughneck, and Daphne was well-meaning. Frasier and Niles were also elitist pricks at times so they couldn’t even always agree where to eat together, much less with their father who was happier having a burger with ketchup.

Every episode had some central motivator; an ice fishing trip, a joint investment, an awards ceremony - but these things were just catalysts to the main conflict, which was almost always something between characters. We’d seen it time and again, that Frasier and his Dad would come to blows over differences in taste. Niles would try to court Daphne while torn by his commitment to his failing marriage, over and over. But the pithy banter and the way they resolved it would always be new, so people watched this show, episode after episode, for over a decade.

And the simple beauty of it all was that each of the characters had something to do with each other. Whether it be filial obligation, lust, sibling rivalry, friction between introversion and extroversion, or taste in food, they always had some source of conflict to make a show out of. Niles and Frasier were both psychiatrists, but from different schools of thought and different working environments, so they even had chances to butt heads academically and professionally. It was rich with writing opportunities and it’s not any wonder it lasted so long.

Another sitcom, “New Girl”, which was about a group of roommates, had a good dynamic set-up between two characters, Schmidt and Nick. Nick is a messy slob and Schmidt’s a type A neat freak, creating a really obvious source of conflict to work with. But then they had a third character, Winston, who they lampshade as the token black guy.

Now, the joke that Winston is the “black friend” has pretty much no legs, so in the early seasons you see him acting as kind of a third party mediator, or maybe a wild card, and it winds up being funnier when Winston is unhelpful. So as the seasons went on, Winston gradually lost his damn mind. He becomes a cop and meets a woman so that he’d have some character growth and dynamic, but also develops into a man who would burn a building down as a prank. The writers had no idea what they were doing with him and he gradually flew further and further off the handle.

Don’t get me wrong, I really liked Winston as a character. Aside from being funny in the show, watching the writers gradually unglue him from sanity was its own meta comedy above that. I knew they were doing it on accident, but having such a good time with it that it was just going to keep getting worse. In fact a major component of the finale for the whole show is an insane thing Winston does. They wrap the show on the note, “Winston is crazy”. And it all happened because they didn’t figure out what Winston’s conflict was at the start. He didn’t have a source of conflict with anyone, so the man became a living breathing embodiment of conflict in general.

Your Story Ends With the Conflict

Now, the catch is, in any type of fiction, whether a video game, a roleplaying session, or a sitcom, the story ends when the conflict does, because if the conflict is over there’s nothing more to tell! It used to frustrate me to no end back when “My Little Pony” was popular and the other nerds on the internet used to ask, “How many times must Fluttershy learn not to be shy, or that being shy is okay? When will she overcome all that she is and eliminate the core element that creates conflict for her?”

The answer should always be that the character will learn their damn lesson when the show ends or when they’re written off it. If you are sick of seeing a character and don’t want to see them any more, the best thing to do is close out their issues, because once they have no conflicts, they have no story, and there’s no point in doing a show about them. Asking Fluttershy to stop being shy is asking to say goodbye to her, because she's a cartoon and her job is to entertain kids by being neurotic and yellow.

People think they’re so smart when they say they’d solve all a character’s problems if it were them. In the finale to the first season of Poke’mon, for example, Ash decides to gamble his whole championship run on Charizard, who’s a self-absorbed bitch of a creature that ultimately throws the match and leaves it an open question whether Ash might have won if he’d left the team primadonna sitting on the bench.

Some viewers see that and complain it’s the dumbest possible thing Ash could have done, but it’s probably one of the single most brilliant things the Poke’mon writers did in the grand scheme, because think about where it left us. Ash didn’t achieve his goal of proving he’s “the best”, but it feels like a fluke and if he got another shot, he might make it all the way. This gave the show a gateway to more episodes with Ash still having something to prove and a dumb mistake indicating he still had a lot to learn. Because he didn’t win, his story hadn’t ended.

In some cases shows can end characters just by addressing some dream goal they’ve been expressing since the first season. In the case of Brock, they intentionally removed him from the show by introducing him to some girl who was willing to work with Brock in the animal husbandry business. He’d been traveling all this time, his dream opportunity fell into his lap, and he was gone. What reason would he have to refuse, and why would anyone stop him? And of course, Brock’s dream job was incompatible with the central plot elements of the rest of the show, so that was it!

The Format Informs the Conflict

If you want to write something but you aren’t sure when it’s going to end, you need a concrete, long-term conflict that’s not just going to go away. For example, in “Scooby Doo and the Thirteen Ghosts”, there were thirteen ghosts. By design, that show should have ended after Scooby Doo found all thirteen ghosts. It actually ended earlier than that because it was cancelled, but you get the idea. When you have a finite goal, your run time is going to be finite as well.

At least in theory. In “JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure” they establish at the beginning of one season that everyone’s magic powers were based on the Tarot. Now, I don’t know the Tarot off hand, but as the show went on I knew that sooner or later they’d run out of Tarot cards, and in my mind I assumed the season would be over when the Tarot ended. But then I got a good chuckle when a guy showed up and his powers were based on a totally different theme, because I knew the writer had realized he’d stumbled into something good and wasn’t ready to end it. He invented a cheap excuse to keep going! And I think if “Scooby Doo and the Thirteen Ghosts” had been successful they’d have managed to unleash a whole lot more than thirteen ghosts because Hannah Barbera was not exactly a studio with a lot of shame.

Character conflicts like those in sitcoms are a great way to have conflict perpetually, because people don’t really change that much and there’s no reason why most of the fundamental friction shouldn’t be there indefinitely. But of course, character-driven conflict is going to be secondary in an event-driven show. “Jojo” actually does have a lot of character conflict, but the plot is primarily about the battles and the journey - if all the fighting ended Jojo’s characters probably couldn’t carry a sitcom, at least not without some serious hard work, a little genius, and a touch of elbow grease.

For event-driven conflict, you’ll want to establish a target - a moving target if you don't know when the story ends, and that can be pretty difficult. Old action shows and comics used to do it by having a rotating cast of villains, so that after one was defeated another would show up tomorrow, and it was assumed these guys regularly broke out of prison, or they escaped in rocket pods, or whatever, and they’d be back later with a new goofy scheme. In these cases you tend to find reactive heroes; they patrol the streets until a lunatic in tights and a garden-themed hat shows up and transforms everyone into people-shaped topiaries somehow.

For active heroes, you need to establish something that requires a lot of structure, like Ash’s journey to win the Poke’mon League. In every country he visits, they all have this asinine rule that you have to go to eight unique locations and kick the ass of someone who disadvantages themselves with an easily-countered mono team that all have the same exact weakness. You can’t be accepted into the League if you haven’t proven you own a water Poke’mon to utterly flatten the fire gym! Let’s be real, this nonsense is probably designed intentionally as a money gate - most people run out of cash before they qualify. Either way, it ends when Ash wins the league, and he lost the league so the show could keep going.

For roleplaying games, the same rules apply. With your players, you’re either going to establish a reactive goal - an adventuring guild hires a bunch of colorful salarymen with silly accents to go to a dungeon as part of their nine to five job - or you need players to set an active goal for themselves and keep the realization of that goal beyond their reach until you’re ready to end the game.

The Active Hero Acts

In my younger years, I learned to roleplay in almost exclusively player-driven games where we were expected to come up with our own goals and pursue them ourselves, but I’ve discovered that is stunningly rare in most roleplaying circles. Your typical D&D player likes to play the salaryman with a funny accent who doesn’t have to worry about the venturous part of adventure. His boss told him to go to the Cave of Everlasting Wonders and Torturous Screams, recover the Sword of Bad Portent, and then hand it over to the department of magic items where they’ll file the paperwork to get it delivered to the patron that wanted the sword for some reason. No need to have your own motives.

But what if you want to play a crime fighter who actually, you know, busts up all the crime? Clearly you can’t just wait for crime to happen passively - you’ve got to go after people. Act instead of being reactive. Purse snatchers are small time and in a more grounded setting the guys you’ll catch by being passive are just grunts being hired out by someone - usually kids in a lot of cases. You have to seek out the bosses.

Making an active character to fit into any setting can be challenging, and I’ve seen quite a few pitfalls. I think one of the funniest motives is always “the guy who wants to go home” due to its obvious failure condition. A lot of stories are about everymen who just want to get out of trouble, but those stories end when they get out of trouble! In many books, movies, shows, or roleplaying games, you’re almost always going to find opportunities to send that guy home, and you’ll have to either conveniently ignore it, switch motives and decide not to go home, or end the whole story with going home. These characters only work where the story is happening to them and it's all out of their control.

I’ve also seen my share of the “quirky genius inventor/scientist”. When someone designs a character mistaking a dream for a motive. They dream of building a better mouse trap, you see. That’s their inner conflict. And while this is a real world conflict, it’s difficult to make it a good story because actual science and invention involves a lengthy quantity of controlled experiments. You breed hundreds of fruit flies, expose them to nicotine, and try to isolate the gene that causes nicotine resistance. It can be fascinating work at its level but sometimes the most exciting part of your day is when you give yourself a steam burn cooking the fly food. The “quirky scientist” in fiction is usually more of a mentor, and if he insists on staying in his lab doing his work then he’s not even a main character - he’s a guy who explains fruit flies to the audience and then is never heard from again. Other times he’s the asshole who invented the story’s whole problem.

I once played in a game with “the quirky scientist who wants to go home”, and man was that a frustrating ride. The game itself was about occult magic and demons, and for most of the game the scientist was experimenting with teleportation magic to go home and was focused on that above the goal of finding and eradicating demons (the game’s premise). And when he finally met a boss demon that could teleport him home to his lab, he went! We wound up retiring a character who, to be honest, was barely even interested in the main subject of the story. Had he been in a film or a show, they’d have cut the character after the first draft because he served no purpose and wasted screen time.

So how do you make sure your character has a working, proactive goal, in a nutshell? Establish a goal that can be achieved by the character within the framework of your story through action by leaving his house (or after burning his house down so he can’t go home), and then make sure the goal is big enough that it will take many broad steps to get there - those steps need to be concrete and visible, not things that would happen off-screen. Most importantly, tie that goal into the main premise of the story, so that reaching the end of the story generally may achieve what the character wants.

If You Aren’t Trying, It’s Not A Trial

Okay, I understand that last bit probably requires more unpacking. But think of it this way. There’s a writing structure referred to as the “Hero’s Journey”. Basically it goes like this: the hero is forced into adventure, he meets friends and goes through trials, he hits his lowest point, he is reborn into a better man, he ends the conflict, story over.

What I’m talking about specifically right now are the trials. The “wacky inventor” is usually presumed to do all his research off screen because most media likes to focus on the results of the invention and the conflict. But if you were to focus on the trials of a scientist, it’d actually be about procuring research grants and potentially materials. You wouldn’t watch a show about a man who checks gene A-235 for nicotine resistance in flies, then goes on to A-236, then A-237.

If I were to write a story about a researcher, here’s one thing I might do: the researcher fails to find what he’s looking for in gene A-235, and when he goes to seek a grant to look at A-236, he finds one of his colleagues has convinced the university that the protagonist’s research is a dead end. Hearing this, the researcher realizes he’s about to lose his lab, so he writes a bit of a lie into his report on A-235. He says it may prevent cancer.

Now, the protagonist is, deep down, a good man. He thinks this will generate some buzz at the university and get him more funding, but he’ll do a follow-up and show the data doesn’t hold up. After that he’ll ask for money for A-236 and everything goes back to normal. But disaster strikes. His article, which was only supposed to show up in an obscure research journal, gets picked up by a major news network and winds up being spread all over. Suddenly he’s “the man who cured cancer”.

And as he’s trying to figure out how to navigate the issue, another researcher comes out and says that under peer review, he was able to replicate the results. He too shows that A-235 cures cancer! Now the hero isn’t sure. He becomes a celebrity and simply lies about his research because he has no real data, but try desperately as he might, in private he just can’t get the results the peer review insisted were there.

He struggles and struggles, coming to blows with his colleague who’s scrutinizing his research notes. Throw in a love interest who’s impressed with what this guy did, and actually I think I’ve just described the plot of some movie I saw a long time ago about faking cold fusion. I think Albert Einstein was a supporting character in it. In my version the twist would be the peer reviewer was also trying to get a grant by lying. Point is, the central conflict of the film certainly isn’t the scientific process, it’s all the crazy crap that happened on the way from point A to point B.

The story is in the trials. If nothing changes, if the character doesn’t have to change their way of life or go through anything special, it’s either not a story or it’s not your typical story. There are plenty of experimental films or well-regarded books that can make a certain banality become interesting. Stories that explain the simple struggles of day to day living for people on hard times. But the trials, the palpable challenges, that’s really the meat of it all. When you think of what your character should be doing throughout the story, he should be going through these efforts, these steps, these trials, all in the name of whatever his broader goal is.

Where You Start Affects Where You End

It also matters quite a lot when and where characters are introduced. A lot of tales follow some basic notes, and one of the more common elements is “crossing the threshold”, which prevents your characters from going back to their life before the adventure. It’s used because it compels the characters forward, as they have no other direction they can go. It can be anything: the character’s home town is destroyed, the character commits a crime, he accepts a contract, his mother dies - so long as it prevents him from going back. It’s especially useful in roleplaying games where you really need everyone to be driving forward.

In one such roleplaying game, I got in a spat with the guy who wanted to run the game because I was trying to make a leader character, but the game master wanted to base his game around a movie he’d seen with a single main character. He’d elected another player to be that main character, and explained to me he’d be starting the game after that character had already crossed the threshold and had begun his journey. This meant that everyone else were supporting cast and could go back to their normal lives at any time, because they were coming willingly from where they were and not really facing any drastic changes to their personal status quo.

I eventually resolved not to play in that game at all, because none of the character dynamics I wanted were going to work. It was supposed to be a “wannabe” superhero game, with the premise that everyone wanted to be heroes, except one player had already started the journey and it turned out another had already reached the end of that arc and was going to play a character that had been a hero going on years before the story began. There was no plan to really reconcile the narrative clashes.

If that game were to work as it was, without me being present, then the person playing the pre-established hero would have needed to take the mentor role. The other players besides the main character would have needed to be comfortable in auxiliary roles, and the group would have to play as though they were part-way into the story. Still learning to be a team but well past the initial stages of a plot, and they’d all need to think up reasons to be in this group individually on their own, because the threshold had already been crossed and they didn’t cross it together.

The friend running the game was actually dismissive of my advice here, arguing that I was overcomplicating everything with a meta analysis of narrative and structure when all we need is a basic drive to play, and I don’t think he realized he’d set himself up with a much more complicated game and less cohesive premise by going about things as he had.

The already established hero couldn’t be the mentor because a mentor character had already been created as an NPC. The auxiliary players weren’t really informed at the outset they’d be auxiliaries - especially not me who’d wanted to play the team leader. The player who’d been designated as the central protagonist didn’t want to lead or be the central protagonist. It could have worked, but it would have taken a lot more planning and many more concessions than a typical game.

In a more recent game, I’ve got another bit of an issue with the start misleading the general goals of the players. It’s a sci-fi game, and first, one player is doing “the quirky inventor scientist”; his current stated dream is vaguely to create transhumanist technology. He also wants to play the leader, so he established himself as the most important man nobody has ever heard of. He has spies in every major institution in the known galaxy and is a genius beyond comparison. He’s currently based in a rusting pirate ship in the middle of the space boonies doing nothing with his life save being the most important man.

Meanwhile, I set up a disgraced military officer with a revenge quest against his own nation. But the pirate crew my character joined turned out to not believe in structure nor leadership and they killed their last commander to have a system of “democracy”. My structure-minded character has tried to take the lead and drive us forward, but he runs into general deconstructive resistance and the “quirky scientist” wants to be the leader, but hasn’t yet expressed self-motivated goals.

It’s not exactly my most harmonious game and there’s quite a lot going wrong here, but here’s how it could have worked: first, establishing that the crew of the pirates respects no leadership places the entire crew in the precarious position of being “chickenshit” at the outset. That kind of incohesiveness is why a band of rogues gets easily defeated; it’s not the behavior of scrappy men of action, but hopeless men of inaction. A corrupted “democracy” collectivises failure while awarding success to whoever actually has the most power in the group structure - it protects the weak leaders from responsibility and disincentivizes good work by allowing those same men to reap rewards while offloading the burdens to those lower on the ladder. In essence, “If things are screwed up, blame the democracy. If things are good, I did it.”

What should have happened was the “quirky scientist” should have been in charge to start with, because otherwise he has no reason to be on board the ship. He’s the most powerful man in the galaxy, after all. If it were because he was financing the pirates to go on raiding and salvage missions relevant to his research, then it would make sense. He’d have a purpose and a position of leadership just as the player wanted. It would also establish the pirates have some command structure and a level of respect for it that allows them to function.

And the power struggle between the disgraced officer and the scientist? Perfectly reasonable character conflict that would drive actual, meaningful roleplaying and story. The scientist may bankroll the operation but the officer is the tactical talent and the two pull in opposite directions, as power-hungry men often do.

However, the opportunity to start with a sensible and meaningful social dynamic has passed, and on top of that the “quirky scientist” keeps his galaxy-wide power a secret, so it’s all kind of messy and “badly written” in the sense that most audiences would be generally rooting for the crew to fail, and they’d find the grand reveal of the scientist’s galactic power to be frustrating and unrewarding because it’s more of a plot hole than anything. So close on so many counts and yet so very far, and the opportunity to pull it together eventually is present but a more challenging and uphill battle than getting it right at the outset.

In The End, Did We Even Learn Anything?

Creating a character is easy, in my opinion. Creating a working story with a group of self-driven characters can be a lot harder. This is especially true of roleplaying games or of cooperation with multiple writers, where you need to be on the same general page with a committee. It can help a lot to establish the exact conflicts at the beginning, but as can be seen with Winston from “New Girl” or the later seasons of “My Little Pony”, what you have can morph beyond your control as things go on.

Sometimes you never had control in the first place. Sometimes you lose control because you conclude the original conflict of your story and struggle to find a new one - the brand is too successful to let go. Maybe an executive comes in and injects an idea that throws the entire balance of everything totally out of whack and now nothing works. Sometimes your friend thinks story structure is overrated. It’s a difficult juggling act.

So at the end of this essay did we even learn anything? It depends a lot on what you’re trying to do and what you wanted to learn. If you’re the more typical Dungeons and Dragons group, you don’t need to think much about this. Just make your characters and passively react to activities handed out by Dungeons, Dungeons & Co - your conflict is event-driven. Are you writing a sitcom? Well, balance a tangled web of conflicting character habits and write the ensuing disaster. Want to make a complex film about a group of highly motivated, proactive people with sophisticated individual goals that ultimately converge while still respecting their rich, conflicting, inner politics, and do all that writing as part of a team? Well, good goddamn luck, but with the right start and enough care you can make it happen.

#essay

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intjmd · 5 years ago

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Types of INTP

As many of you may have noticed, INTPs come in different flavors. Some of my closest friends are INTPs, and I have noticed some differences between them that I have not spotted in other types (ENFPs seem more homogeneous to me, I know a bunch and they have basically the same values, outlooks on life and even similar (or the same) interests). In consequence, I have decided to classify my beloved INTP to see if we can understand this better (or even arrive to the conclusion that some of my friends are mistyped). After thinking for a while, I have decided to keep it simple and describe only two different types or INTPs. I know it’s not enough, but I don’t have all the information that I would need to make an accurate description of other subtypes of INTPs (I think there might be at least another one). Feel free to comment, add or correct anything you may find here. Let’s go.

INTP 1 - AKA Chill INTP :

Looks/vibes:

This INTP looks like the most carefree person alive. Seriously. They are often cute and definitely have their style. Why do they say that INTP have a horrible fashion sense, then? Well, it’s just that their style is not the conventional style. They can be obsessed with certain parts of their bodies (e.g. perfect nails) and completely neglect others. Or they can aspire to look in a certain way (kawaii, really kawaii) that could look inappropriate in someone their age. They don’t care. They dress as they want, ignoring other wishes and advice. And sometimes it works out.

In general, they look rather sociable and happy. Try approaching them and you may be surprised. Sometimes, Chill looks even dreamy and you can tell they are fantasizing about having a dragon pet or whatever.

Habitat:

They dwell in their rooms and when they go out, they wish they were on their room. This type of INTP has watched more than 50 TV shows this last year, and probably reads a lot of fanfic. Their room is their sanctuary and is often filled with the interests of the owner, packed with action figures, tech, their clothes or maybe some painting that they did years ago and didn’t want to throw out.

Personality and interests:

Chill INTP is curious. He/She/That thing over there is an INTP after all. They remind me of an ENFP (Ne here) because the way they talk about about their passions and dreams. To put it bluntly: they can’t talk about a single topic for more than five minutes before changing the subject to something different. They do this with a bubbly/excited look and act like everything is possible for them (but then they are “too lazy” for achieving said dreams) (this has literally been said by two of them so it’s not an insult).

This Chill INTP loves series, fanfics, memes and the Internet as a concept. They have mastered every single shortcut of their computer and act like it’s part of their bodies.

Although Chill INTP looks approachable, they hate small talk and are very shy and private. Above all, they have trouble initiating conversations. If you befriend them, though, they will open up and flood you with an unending stream of ideas.

Academics: Chill is smarter than the average person, but also lazier than the average person. What’s worse, they know that they are smart and sometimes (only with their closest friends) can brag about it. While it’s true that they are bright and have no trouble understanding complex topics (actually the more abstract, the better), they lack motivation and often procrastinate. Sometimes, usually in hight school exams, they are able to successfully wing it and get good grades with almost zero effort. They will still whine a bit after getting an 8 in some subject that they didn’t even read, though. However, this “luck” (talent, actually, it’s raw intelligence plus a little bit of rhetorics and an innocent look) doesn’t last forever.

In the end, no matter how academically talented Chill may be, after missing a thousand classes and studying for maybe ten seconds, Chill fails. Hard. Usually for the first time in University. But it’s not that they can’t do it, it’s just that they don’t want to put in the effort right now. Maybe later.

Personal opinion:

This INTP is reaaaally fun to hang out with (I’m an INTJ, maybe we click because of that). They are witty, punny and can cheer you up with their innocence or random remarks. In addition, they get sarcasm (THANK YOU) and are not afraid of saying something regarded as “insensitive” if it’s true. This Chill INTP can be a bit stubborn, and will not change their behavior even if they admit it’s damaging them.

Overall, they are nice and don’t ask for much attention.

P.S: Chill INTP is NOT chill all the time. They can have breakdowns where all of their frustration gets out and they can cry in disappointment because the are not living up to their own standards. The agony disappears after a while, and they come back to their laptop and keep scrolling with a smile on their faces.

INTP 2 - AKA NERDY INTP:

Looks/vibes:

Nerdy INTP does not care at all about how they look. It’s a practical question, not a fashion contest, and they are going to pick anything as long as it covers the parts of their body that can’t be publicly shown. The plainer, the better, this way they can combine anything in their wardrobes.

Also, this INTP does not look “chill” at all. It’s more like a quiet fragile serenity that could explode anytime. There is a difference there. Chill INTP is very comfortable anywhere, even in the midst of a crowd, they just do their own thing and ignore everyone. Nerdy INTP is watching over you, analyzing your patterns and thinking, always thinking. This INTP is full of anxiety and is shyer than chill INTP. And when they are looking at a wall they are either thinking hard about the wall itself (colour, texture, design) or totally lost inside some theory inside their mind. The thing is that you know that they are questioning things.

Habitat:

Their rooms, but with zero clutter. It’s not minimalism, it’s a prison cell with the occasional coffee machine. They have a laptop, books and a bed, but that’s all. This INTP lives in his head, not on Earth. That’s why they don’t mind going outside, but they do this to think elsewhere, not to be elsewhere. Their heads are a mystery, I would describe them if I could.

Personality and interests:

Nerdy is not merely curious, Nerdy is utterly obsessed with knowledge and the truth. This means that they can research a single topic for like 40 hours nonstop and speak about it too, getting deeper and deeper and finding internal contradictions between the different sources until you (random listener) can no longer know anything. But they really understand it, and it just comes easy for them. They can keep their concentration forever and ever until their body stops working and they get into a random nap. Then they jump to the topic again.

Nerdy likes talking about different subjects. Unlike Chill, once Nerdy chooses ONE topic, he will remain in that area until nothing more can be said (which is approximately never) or until the other person changes the topic. Nerdy also strongly prefers one to one conversations, while Chill can manage up to four/five people at the same time.

In short, Nerdy seems much more focused and driven than Chill, but they are not natural achievers (#goalz #checklists) like an INTJ. Instead, they seek pure knowledge for the sake of it, to deepen their understanding of the world. They don’t need to change it, they just think that it’s interesting to dive into the most obscure and complex topics and master them. Their thirst is not for power but for wisdom.

Nerdy is as Internet addicted as Chill but it’s easier to find them looking for papers than watching Netflix on their own. They have three or four series that they love but they are usually complex (picture high fantasy) and the things they read are not the cliché YA novels in which Chill tends to indulge more.

Academics:

If Nerdy has chosen a career that sparks his interests, he will do great in his knowledge field. At least, Nerdy will spend hours and hours reading about this topic and becoming an expert. They will understand EVERYTHING and create a sort of “mind map” in their minds (just a map, then) with concepts and their connections. Nerdy is a bit lazy too, but their curiosity and intellect alone if directed towards the adequate career can take them to the top (or at least they are not whining at the bottom as sometimes Chill does).

Even if both Chill and Nerdy feel incompetent, Chill actually puts 3/10 effort and ends up getting a 5. Nerdy studies a lot (maybe not the most important things, they will probably get lost in the interesting bits) and try to do their best. Even if their results are great, they will feel as if they had failed because they are too perfectionistic.

To sum up, they work harder and get more results than Chill, but also set higher standards for themselves, which leads them to often overexert themselves and have higher levels of anxiety. This is why they do nOT look so chill.

Personal opinion:

For me, Nerdy feels like a caffeinated, stronger, sharper version of Chill. Maybe a little more hopeless and cynic, maybe more concerned with astrophysics than the newest One Piece episode. If Chill was fun, Nerdy is a hundred times funnier. However, Nerdy is also incapable of small talk (Chill knows how to, he just doesn’t want to do it and tries to avoid it) and has more trouble meeting new people. This INTP is only capable of speaking logically, and will destroy you incoherent arguments in seconds (yeah, every conversation feels like a debate). If you show any weakness, they will show no mercy. This side of them can bore or get tiresome for the more dictatorial (Nerdy will call out your bullshit, authority means nothing), harmony loving (debates are just debates, no feelings involved) (however, if you think that disagreeing equals hating each other, you are so fucked here) or happy-go-lucky (”Don’t think and be happy”) types.

If you are not ready to do some mental exercise, then leave alone Nerdy and go back to Instagram. If you go, try to chatter with Nerdy and then disregard all his ideas/hypothesis/arguments and it gets upset, you are a mere asshole. I actually love Nerdy INTP and think that his brain should be protected as World Heritage.

Things both (I think all INTP) subtypes have in common:

Curiosity about the most random things.

They hate small talk and initiating conversations.

They are so much fun for an INTJ.

They can be very insensitive when talking to other people (not a big bother for an NT)

All energy is redirected to their heads, their bodies are nOT fully operative.

They are always up for: COFFEEE, films or going to a new restaurant.

People love them and they don’t want to admit it.

They feel different but never complain about it (and never flaunt it as a virtue).

They have meltdowns and they saw them coming.

They love the Internet.

Kinky. Very specific kinks and you can’t kinkshame them. It’s better to join them.

They look innocent, like sweet cinnamon rolls but they are not.

P.S:

Maybe these two types are not well described and some of you think that Chill is just more well, relaxed Nerdy. Or that Nerdy has more willpower than Chill. I don’t know. I honestly think that both have different manifestations of the INTP functions and they are true INTP regardless of their differences. I also think that both are fun, smart and can become great friends.

P.S2:

@intp-the-thinker @intpmd this is for both of you, feel free to abort this unborn theory/hypothesis.

#intp #intptypes #intj

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lyla-jacobs · 5 years ago

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(( Devery Jacobs, 25, she/her, bisexual )) have you met LYLA JACOBS? they’re a well known POGUE in the outer banks. rumor has it they can be LOYAL & HONEST but also COLD & DISTANT. they’ve lived on the island for 6 years and work as a/an SECURITY AT THE COUNTRY CLUB. when you hear their name, you can always picture BIG BLACK TSHIRTS, RAINY DAYS IN A CAFE, SHOVING BARE FEET INTO THE SAND

hello hello I am kim. she/her. est timezone. florida gal. here is my baby lyla. this is a whole ass mess but enjoy.

Basic info:

full name : Lyla Nicole Jacobs

nickname(s) : Ly, J, LJ

preferred name(s) : Lyla

birth date : Nov 28th

age : Twenty Five

zodiac : Sagittarius

gender : Female

pronouns : She/Her

sexuality: bisexual

current location : Outer Banks, NC

Background info: tw: abuse mention

Born November 28th, Lyla Nicole grew up in foster care for most of her life. From what she was told, her mother was young and didn’t have the resources to take care of a baby so she was put into the system. Jumping from home to home, Lyla didn’t really have a staple relationship with people. She had come and gone from homes, and no one in her life really stuck out to her. She became very independent from the time she was 11. She is very hot-headed, and most of the time has an attitude, therefore she didn’t really do well in her foster homes growing up.

About 8 foster homes later, when she was 14, she ended up at a foster home with Bill and Sherry in Outer Banks. She never really had the best relationship with them, but she stayed because she wanted the independency and didn’t want to move high schools again to be the new girl. trigger warning: during her time in her foster home, her foster father would drink heavily and physically abuse her. She usually seen with a lot of clothing on, just because of the bruises and cuts she gets. end trigger warning

High school was easy. Lyla was smart, and always excelled in academics, but she really took towards art. She was a big artist, and loved to sketch. That became her sole passion for most of high school.

She has a hard time opening up, and usually ends up sounding snarky, but she is an extremely loyal girl who loves people. She doesn’t necessarily show her love, but she has a ton of muse and sketches people she ends up enjoying. During high school, she did open up to one person. Gabriel Morales. A boy she never would’ve seen herself falling for, but she ended up doing it anyway. He was the only person that she could truly take down her walls and be herself. She does has a girly side. She doesn’t show it much, but she is a true hopeless romantic.

Lyla had decided she wanted to go to college. She was able to get a full ride to an art school, but it happened to be in California. Her and Gabriel decided to do long distance but it didn’t really work out. Now here she is, out of college, and deciding to come back to OBX because that was the first place that truly felt like home.

Currently, Lyla is part of the security team at the country club. She takes her job seriously, and even has befriended some of the kooks, but really she’s loyal to the pogues. She lives in her own run down apartment, and probably has some roommates.

If you pass by the beach, you’d most likely see her in an 2XL tshirt with her feet in the sand as she sketches anything that comes to mind.

She could also been seen at the local coffee shop. Lyla loves coffee, and loves the atmosphere of it. She also just doesn’t ever want to go home, so she stays there for a while sketching.

wanted connections:

roommates??

kook friends?

enemies?

high school friends?

maybe foster siblings?

#bio #Intro #abuse tw #kildare.intro

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avidroyalfan · 6 years ago

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Avid, i saw your message on jessica's tumblr. Thank you for sharing it. If you dont mind, will you tell me how did you get out from your academic and life lowest point? I'm from third world countries, there isnt mental health resource from the uni, although there were 2 last year students who had committed suicide, there isnt any action from the uni. I dont even know to face my professor, he had given me time 3 months, and i did nothing. I just want to cry and end it all.

Hello anon!! First of all, I’m so glad you came here. You are worthy and deserving of happiness, love and fulfillment!! I know everything seems dark and hopeless now, but believe me, you will feel better, I promise.

I also want to tell you again that I understand exactly how you feel!! When I read the message you sent to Jess, and then again when I read this message, I felt like my past self was writing to me. I’ve had depression for more than a year now, although it was only diagnosed last June. I wasn’t doing anything at uni, but I somehow managed to hide it for most of the academic year, but at some point people, and my professor especially, started noticing I was doing absolutely nothing. My professor gave me additional time two times, and every time I promised myself that I was going to get it together and to work hard and prove myself but I just couldn’t leave my bed in the morning. Even when I did leave my bed, I didn’t have the energy to do the simplest things, even taking a shower and getting dressed was exhausting. So by the time I was ready to leave my home the only thing I wanted to do was go back to bed. After three months my professor told me she can’t continue working with me, that science is probably not for me, and that I should find something else to do. I was devastated. The uni’s management board summoned me for a meeting, and I was 100% sure they will kick me out and tell me to never come back. I couldn’t stop crying in the week leading up to that meeting. But they were actually much more understanding then my professor, even though they didn’t really know me personally. They told me they will give me three months so that I could recover and also think if I really wanted to come back, and if I decide I want to, they will help me find a new professor and give me another whole year to do my thesis (which is the amount of time you usually get for the thesis in my uni). During those three months I was able to have my mind rest a little bit, and not be stressed about deadlines and how unproductive I’m being. After about a month, I realized I missed science and research, which proved to me that I wasn’t “not made for science”. I was able to find the right medication for my depression (it’s not a magic trick, it takes time to find the right one, and it is very important to also have therapy in parallel). I traveled to France, where my grandpa lives, for three weeks. I highly recommend getting away from your usual environment and getting your head cleaned. I didn’t do any touristic things, just rested and didn’t think about the decision I had to take. Now I am back at my uni, with a new professor, who is much more suitable for my needs. Now I understand that part of the depression had to do with the previous professor and the way she handled things from the beginning.

These are the things that helped me get out of that horrible, dark time:

Professional help - for me this is the most important part. It is important to remember depression is a real physiological situation. Having it diagnosed and treated is the first step. This wasn’t done through my uni - they only suggested the psychiatrist, but she’s not working for the uni. My therapist is the reason I am where I am today (and she has nothing to do with my uni). I don’t know how the health system works in your country, but if you have the possibility to have professional help, do it asap. A good therapist is really important.Adressing the uni’s managment board - or whatever it is called in your uni. You might not know it exists - I didn’t know it did in my uni - but there are very high chances you have someone that is supposed to help students who have difficulties. If you can, have a diagnose before going to them. When people hear you’re already diagnosed they’ll be more keen to help you, because they know you’re not pretending or “being lazy”.Ask for some time for recovery and reflection - Explain your situation and ask for some time for yourself. Tell them that you want to be able to prove yourself, but that you can’t do it rn. If you’re afraid they won’t approve, you can ask for a sick leave. They will most likely approve of it when it’s presented like that.Rest and think - Take that time to mentally rest. Get away from your home/uni if possible.

Things to remember:

You are not being lazy, you didn’t become less smart over the last period. You have a medical condition, and it prevents you from fullfilling your potential. A runner can’t run with a broken leg, and we cannot function well with depression. It doesn’t mean you can never function well again, just like it doesn’t mean the runner can never run again. It will get better, with time and treatment.At the management board meeting, the head of board told me something very important and true: “You should enjoy what you’re doing. You should be passionate about what you’re doing”. I don’t know you/the reasons you’re studying what you’re studying, but it’s ok to change your mind. It’s ok to decide: “this is not for me, I want to try something else”. I’m not saying you should give up, and certainly not now when your mind is playing tricks on you, but just bear that in mind. At the end of the day, you’re the one going to your workplace every morning and doing whatever it is you’re doing for most of you waking hours. You should enjoy it. Do it for yourself, not for people around you. Another thing he told me: “You’re not here by mistake. You were accepted to the university, and it was because we thought you were fit to study here”. Remember that. I don’t know what or where you’re studying, but wherever it is, you’re not there by mistake or by chance. You’re there because you’ve proven in the past that you’re capable of being there. Right now your mental leg is broken, but it doesn’t change the fact that you CAN run, it’s just that your mental leg need fixing first.I hope you find the way to heal and to get out of this dark hole. I know it seems hopless now, but there is light waiting for you. You just need to hold on a little bit longer and it’ll find you. Don’t hesitate to come back if you need anything else, and please keep us updated

#ask #answered #anon #mental health #tw suicide

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maybeforonce · 6 years ago

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I keep scrolling trying to find something that accurately describes what I’m currently going through, but I’m not having much luck. I didn’t want to write anything tonight, maybe because I’m lazy or maybe because I don’t want to face my problems head-on.... (definitely the second reason).

I don’t even know where to start. I’m just feeling extremely numb and I don’t know how to handle it. I used to be able to cry so easily. I would cry too much, if anything. Now I can cry for maybe a maximum of 3 minutes at a time, maybe once or twice a week. I need more than that. I need to have a full mental breakdown and let out all my tears and truly feel the sadness, the pain, and the heartache. Feeling numb is incredibly unsatisfying. I feel so empty, unmotivated, dull, and hopeless. I wish I could just cry about it, but the fact that I’m trying to force myself to cry by listening to sad music is just making this whole thing more frustrating.

My life is pretty shitty right now. However, I’m unable to let myself feel miserable and complain about it because in the past few years I’ve really worked on being an optimistic person and being grateful for all the positive things in my life. That damn meditation and practicing gratitude really impacted me. Whenever I start to think about the things in my life that suck, my mind automatically begins to counter each point with a positive outlook that could come from it. For example, if I think about the fact that my dog just died, my brain automatically reminds me that we saved her from her terrible life and we gave her so much love and she helped our family in so many ways. Or, another example is that my mom is dying of cancer. My brain thinks, thank god she’s getting the best care possible at a really great hospital where they’re doing everything in their power to help her. Or, thank god I have all this time to recognize what’s going on and to be able to really appreciate the time I have with her now, rather than her dying out of nowhere and me missing out on opportunities to cherish moments with her like I do now. No matter how dark and sad my issues are, my optimistic mind doesn’t allow me to feel sorry for myself because I know that everything could be so much worse.

But I need to feel the emotions I deserve to feel. I deserve to feel miserable and heartbroken and anxious. I need to stop feeling guilty for feeling these emotions. They’re valid. The logic side of me knows this and is trying hard to make myself cry, but my inner self is preventing me from being pathetic.

Today I cut myself. I have felt so numb and I wanted to see if doing that would make me cry. I started with a pretty dull kitchen knife, light scratches, but it wasn’t very sharp. Then I switched to a pin which hurt a little more and made it sting. There was a little bit of blood. I didn’t cry because of the pain. I briefly teared up because I was annoyed at myself for being pathetic and attention-seeking. But that’s not what I was hoping to feel, so I gave up. I immediately grabbed my first aid kit and cleaned the wounds and put bandaids on them.

Weird how I go from hurting myself to taking care of myself in a matter of minutes.

Anyways, I wanted the pain in the moment but not lasting infections that I would have to deal with in the future.

I really feel like I’m becoming a very intelligent woman. I’ve always been smart, but I’m starting to feel like I’m looking at things from a more academic perspective and in a more mature way than other people my age. I just feel like I’m very aware of myself and my surroundings, moreso than a lot of people my age because I always feel like I’m teaching things to my peers. I still have a lot to learn and a lot to experience, but I’m starting to feel like I’m worthy of a college degree, a masters, and being a teacher so that’s cool.

I just really need to feel something soon because I feel very off right now.

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roseok · 7 years ago

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Sunflower Girl

COUNT—20, 848 words ↳ A/N: First series written in early 2016 too!

❝Taehyung: killer of flowers and wrecker of hearts. With a high school history you can’t get over and a problematic roommate you can’t avoid, life is great until you’re forced to live under Kim Taehyung’s roof.❞

Prologue

Knock

“Y/N,”

Knock

“I need to talk to you Y/N,”

It was a cycle. A vicious cycle of early morning wake-ups and pretending to be dead asleep to having your sister rip open your bedroom door anyway. Slipping under your covers, she nestles her tired body up against your back. Wrapping her arms around your waist, she buries her head between your shoulder blades and cries.

Lifting your gaze to the only source of light in your room you groan as your alarm clock emits the warning numbers of dawn.

“You know Mia, I wake up in two hours for my graduation ceremony,” you rasp, the morning tendrils clinging to your vocal chords. “What is it now?”

“Don’t leave,” she sobs, turning onto her back but still holding you tight. “Fuck, I guess it’s just the insecurities and loneliness talking, but I couldn’t sleep after thinking so hard about it and I don’t want you to leave the city. I don’t want you to leave me. I want you to come to my college and I want us to be close forever.”

Turning onto your back, you both stare at the glow-in-the-dark stars glued to your ceiling.

Their glow had faded significantly over the years and the thought of tearing them down after so many nights of saving you from nightmares scared you more than you’d like to admit as an adult. You thought that maybe, the karma of the universe would push you into the perils of catch up nightmares, so they stayed.

“Please don’t go,” she begs, nestling her face into your shoulder. “I’ll be good. I’ll even drink less alcohol, just don’t leave me alone in this hole.”

Letting a river of discomfort and grief flood your disgruntled morning self, you sink further down into your duvet with a frustrated sigh. You still hadn’t told your family that any semblance of an opportunity of going to a university far away had disintegrated in less than a week and that you had decided to stay instead. What else could you do?

“Mia, I’m not going,” you whisper. “Something happened and I didn’t end up getting the required grade for Brown. So, you don’t have to worry about being lonely, I guess I’m staying here. So go away so I can sleep before I murder you.”

“Something? Are you talking about Taehyung?” she asks, yawing into her hand. “If you are, I’m going to hug him. You and me forever. ”

“Don’t even say his name,” you croak, pulling the sheets back over your face. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to sleep so I don’t look like an axe murderer in my graduation photos.”

“If something was meant to happen Y/N, it would. Stop being dramatic, the kid doesn’t sound that bad at all. So he lied to you, big whoop. Did you die? NO.” she shouts, her voice too loud for the mush that was your morning brain. “I’m glad he did to be honest. I think I might hug him when I see him. Thats how glad I am.” she says, squeezing you tighter before leaving you to slumber the last remaining hours of being a high school student.

“Like hell you will,” you whisper as she leaves. “Kim Taehyung is a murderer of dreams and flowers and all things in between.”

She laughs as she closes the door behind her, “Be careful there sis, love and hate are separated by a very thin curtain. You might just burn it down with all that fire of yours.”

Sinking back into your sheets, you mull over every single interaction you’ve ever had with him. You didn’t have that many, but they filled you with regret and anxiety. You felt hopeless and tormented by his stupid grin, his stupid toe nail clipping eyes, his soft brown hair and his baritone laugh.

You hated him. You hated Kim Taehyung.

In your freshmen year of high school you decide against being surprised by anything Kim Taehyung does and will ever do. He was popular, smart and kind. He was the picture perfect student justly famous for two reasons.

First, he was incredibly good looking — a natural beauty. The second, he was the most boring good looking person on the planet. He lived in the school library, he routinely volunteered to tutor and his posture was always frustratingly perfect in class. He was a brick wall with girls, a brick wall with his friends and a brick wall to you. Everything he did was a calculated move towards his GPA, he was predictable and transparent.

He remained the star pupil of your school up until senior year, when out of nowhere Kim Taehyung did a 180 and became a mystery.

You were curious as to what might’ve caused the sudden change; the good boy suddenly going bad. He acted as though he had a grudge against the world, as though the world did something so shockingly inhumane that his actions and juvenile delinquency were warranted, but he just wanted to be himself. He just wanted to be able to express himself.

With his chestnut hair streaked with green, pink leather jacket and the cool that suddenly replaced his once stoic aura, Taehyung was a completely different person. And, you could tell from the size of the dark bags under his eyes and the hangovers he routinely nurtured in the classes he did actually attend, Taehyung was chasing demons into tequila sunrises.

He wasn’t any different from the group of boys he hung around. Which doesn’t come as a surprise to you, you are at the end of the day, the product of your environment. You just hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would be different and prove you wrong.

If only.

Walking to the student administration office determined and passionate. You decide that if Taehyung could change in such a short time frame than you could too. You didn’t want to follow the path your parents set out for you, and neither did he, you wanted to spread your wings, so you did.

You were going to find a university outside of the state and attend it. You were going to find what makes you happy and pursue it.

What makes you happy was 8 hours away and you needed to maintain an A- average to even think about getting in on scholarship. Brown was an elite college designed for hardworking students like yourself.

So thats what you worked towards. You had a goal and you were going to press forward and achieve it.

But as you became more determined and goal focused, Taehyung had loosened his grip on academic reality and began to lose himself in the swell of people and what they could offer him in terms of a good time. He was a freight train heading straight for you.

For the last 6 months of your senior year, the science classroom had become your cave. Your last assignment for your high school career was research on soil and sunflowers, which is why you spent most of your time by the back window where you could see every corner of the school.

These flowers held your hope of going to Brown.

It was english class when Taehyung approached you for the first time. You assumed at first that maybe his college friends had told him about the so called “legendary tales” of your famous freshmen sister and he had come to check you out, but he seemed genuine in his disinterest and just wanted to borrow a pen.

The second time he approached you, it was to return it. He didn’t seem at all curious or even aware of who you were and he certainly didn’t ask you about your sister. The small interactions were nice, although you were mostly ignored, he filled you with fascination and enough day dreaming material for life.

Hell, the boy was cute.

The third time Taehyung approached you however, he had figured out who you were and he played it smart so you wouldn’t figure him out.

Carrying a box filled with his last science experiment, he stops to encourage himself before making his way to class.

“Okay, Taehyung just play it cool. You’re cool. She’s just a girl. Its just a girl.” he chants under his breath. “Get in there, get to know her. Get her to like you. Get invited to the party. Invite the boys. Don’t be nervous.”

Making his way to the class, he opens the sliding door of the classroom and his eyes immediately fall on your familiar frame leaning out the back window with your chin against your forearm, your knees on the seat of the stool and your hair plunging down the sides of your face.

Staring into the classroom he notes that you were the only thing motionless in the beehive of the classroom, and Taehyung felt somewhat transfixed by the calamity that he thought might be your nature. What he hoped might be your nature.

He had always found that you were quite peculiar and compelling, but not enough to think of you as anything other than a blur in the face of blurs. He was nervous because you seemed smart. Smart enough to catch onto his plan. Smart enough to see right through him, but the allure of what your friendship could offer him outweighed any potential consequence.

Sitting down in the stool beside you, he places the box to the right of him and leans his chin on his fist to stare up at you. He wanted to be methodical with his charms, but from where he sat, it looked like you were chasing the sun and he found it amusing how the sunflowers that sat beside you almost looked like they were doing the same. He decided to run in blind, jump into the deep end with his hands tied. He was just going to be a friend. Theres no harm in that right? holla that rhymed, rm eat ur <3 out

Leaning closer to you, he clears his throat, “Hey Y/N, I know this is kind of weird but I was thinking that maybe we could be friends. I-I know its really late into the year and we haven’t r-really talked before but there is no time like the present right? What do you say?” he stammers, peering curiously close to your face.

Waiting for you to turn and reply to his overwhelmingly generous offer, he leans closer in curiosity. He questions if maybe he’s mixed you up with someone else and thats the reason why you’re ignoring him. But he knows you, and he knows he’s smart enough to distinguish you from the other blurs.

He’s so close to you at this point that he can see every freckle, every blemish and every crack of skin on your lips. He’s not sure why he’s standing so close to you, but he wants to offer his strawberry lip balm. He also wants to brush his fingers against the long length of your lashes or play with the ends of your soft hair. He feels like you’d be a nice enough person to let him, but he decides against doing any of those, you’d probably find that strange.

Cocking his eyebrows at you, he leans his head back against the window sill. “Hey, Y/N.” he says, licking his lips.

Beside the mindless chatter from other students, the clock ticking above the classroom door fills the silence between you as he waits for your response. He’s about to clap in front of your face before a gust of wind blows your hair away from your face, sending the apple and strawberry scent of your shampoo wafting towards him. He closes his eyes in awe as he lets the gentle scent clog his brain. He hasn’t smelt something so lovely in his entire life.

Looking back towards you, he admires the way your hair cascades down the back of your uniformed blouse but in turn, notices the earphones in your ears. Blushing scarlet to the tips of his ears in embarrassment, he laughs loudly at his silly mistake. Sitting back down in the stool, he rests his chin on his fist again and grins, you weren’t ignoring him.

After measuring and watering the sunflowers, you place them on the window sill beside you. Sighing into the gentle breeze you flood your brain with last nights conversation.

Your sister was arranging a massive house party at your family home. Your parents agreed and no-one bothered to ask you. How fucking rude

Mia lived in a college dorm but wanted to use the family house, where she no longer lives, under the guise of graduation celebrations. Your parents - proud and hippie, decided it was the worlds greatest idea, calling it an opportunity to “network.”.

Network my ass, any excuse to party for her was an excuse to be an asshole. You couldn’t imagine the kind of damage that would ultimately occur to your home. You didn’t want to. The idea made you grimace.

Taking a much needed deep breath, you slap your cheeks. Maybe listening to soft music will extinguish the fire you’re starting to feel grow embers in your heart.

Leaning out the window in half a daze, you put your earphones in and listen to the mellow tunes of Jim James - a favourite of yours.

Your ears are filled with the sound of rough hands and their tender love making abilities on the wooden fretboard of an acoustic guitar.

You wished wholeheartedly to be able to play guitar like that, to push people into a swell of thoughts as vigorous as he does to you. Maybe you should try learning this song Y/N, you can play, you might as well try. It can’t hurt.

The idea seemed to tug towards a favourable conclusion but before you could even continue on that train of thought, you’re being plucked from your daze and pulled back down to reality by a baritone laugh and the strong smell of cologne beside you.

Taking out your earphones, your about to tell the baritone laugher in close proximity to piss off but as you turn and face the stranger, you freeze in shock.

“Kim Taehyung.” you choke, embarrassingly swallowing the lump of anger you were about to gift his beautiful face. His cheeks were pink and his eyes looked like toe nail clippings in contrast to the impressive rectangle of teeth grinning at you; you couldn’t yell at such a face.

“So now you finally notice me.” he laughs, shifting the box beside him further away. “I’ve been trying to get your attention but you’ve been ignoring me for the past 5 minutes. Anyways, what’ya listening to?” he asks, flicking the tips of his hair out from his brows.

Sitting back down in your stool, you wrap your earphones around your phone and place it beside you. “Why do you want to know?” you frown, unsure and suspicious.

“Well, you looked so lost in thought. If music made you do that, I want to listen to it too and maybe get lost with you.” he says, rubbing his sweaty palms together.

“Uhh…” you mutter, your mouth not quite connecting with your brain. It was strangely bizarre how THE Kim Taehyung was talking to you, but you were too tired and shocked to question it. “Jim James. His song Exploding takes me places. I just fall in love with it everytime I hear it.”

Unwrapping your earphones from around your phone, you slip an earphone into his ear. You watch his eyelashes flutter unexpectedly at the soothing melody before looking back up to your eyes with an unreadable expression. He sits and stares at you for the entirety of the song.

He must not have meant to stare because when the song ends, he realises he had been and he tears his eyes away from yours in embarrassment.

You sink back into your chair as you wrap your earphones around your phone again. You feel like you just made some weird connection with him, it was unnerving.

Maybe you should’ve questioned him at this point, but as he agrees with you and talks about the music that has a similar effect on him, you’re transfixed.

You like the way he talks and the way his eyes pierce into yours to see if you’re still listening and the way he licks his lips in thought. You like the way he talks about music, you can feel an unspoken passion as you listen to him speak. Almost like there was furnace behind his eyes and he wanted you to feel the heat.

It made you excited for him but confused as to why he was pouring out his deep seeded passion so fearlessly to you. You didn’t even know him.

You can tell by the way he has to forcefully stop himself from saying anything more that he really hasn’t talked to anyone else about this. It seems to surprise him how much he’s managed to tell you because he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

He couldn’t understand what was happening all of a sudden. He felt like out of all people who would understand him, it would be you and he didn’t even know you. He regrets not choosing to use his methodical charm, he’s going in blind and he has a sinking feeling that you aren’t just some girl.

He was in love with the idea of making his own music and to have people like you fall in love with it. To fall in between the notes of his melodies and get lost, because he knew that sometimes in a town like theirs, people wanted to run away and he wanted his music to imbue a sense of passion. A sense of motivation to do it. He was happy and he wanted others to be happy too.

“Sorry, I do that. My mum says I talk too much and don’t give people the chance to talk.” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Are flowers your thing?” he asks genuinely.

Facing him, you grin. “Everyone thinks I’m obsessed with my sunflowers, they even call me the sunflower girl, but I just want them to grow well. They are my ticket out of here.” feeling a slither of a blush across your cheeks, you look over your plants with fondness. “I need to get out of this city. I want to get out of this city.”

“Whats in your box?” you ask, tearing your gaze from the flowers to his curious expression. You hoped changing the conversation would divert the tender subject. You really didn’t want to talk about being suffocated by small town people and their small town minds. You thought that it might offend him.

Taehyung doesn’t even know whats in the box. “Its a surprise,” he says, fondling the edge of it. He doesn’t know whats in the box because its not actually his work. He paid a junior in the library to fix him a last minute research paper and evidence of the “work”.

He could’ve done it himself but he hadn’t actually attended a single science class that year and had no idea what the assignment was on. Not wanting her to know about that, he diverts the conversation, much like how she did before.

“Hey, lets not talk about science. I’d much rather talk about you. I want to get to know the sunflower girl.” he eagerly admits, inching closer until his knees were touching yours.

Surprised by his flirtation, you move back in your seat, grab your sunflowers by their shared pot plant and hold them close to your chest.

You want to hide in a hole right now because the comment came out of nowhere and your body wasn’t ready and your cheeks are starting to heat up and you’re sure they are pink and shit.

“Why?” you cough. Is he flirting with me? Why would he be flirting with me? I’m not even that good looking…

“I just want to make friends with everyone before grad,” he laughs loudly, subduing your suddenly insecure thoughts. “And why not?” he grins, suddenly feeling confident with himself as he watches you shy behind the petals.

Leaning forward in his seat so his knees were touching yours again, he remembers his agenda and what he was supposed to be doing.

Not wanting to waste any more time, he strokes the sunflower petals hanging in front of your lips, he makes sure to accidentally stroke your cheek. He’s grinning at how perfect this moment is becoming, you sitting there with flustered pink cheeks, him with sudden unwavering confidence in his abilities to charm. It made his job easier and he felt less guilty doing it.

“Come on Y/N, lets put these in the experiment room and spend the rest of the class talking. I want to be good friends with you and we can talk more about the music you like! I feel like we have a similar taste,” He smiles, wrapping his arm around yours as he pulls you up and out of your seat. “So, what do you say? Yes?”

His excited chestnut eyes simmer down to crescent moons as he waits for an answer. You nod your head and mutter back with a small smile, repeating what he said earlier, “Why not.”

Taehyung pulls you closer to him as you both carry your experiments to the experiment room. He was giddy and excited, much like a child.

You can practically feel your heart swimming in your ears in response as you look up to Taehyung and his cheshire grin. You can’t help but wonder why he was trying so hard. What good would your friendship be to him.

You’re about to ask him when all of a sudden he moves his hand to the small of your back, gently prodding you through the door. You hate how much of an impact the small gesture has on you, as your thoughts break and fall apart, filling your body with tiny flickers of electricity.

Its in that moment that you realise that you’re a goner. You don’t even need to dwell on it. Your body and your mind like Kim Taehyung.

And looking down at your flustered expression, Taehyung realises right then and there that he’s got you hook, line and sinker.

You remember the exact moment Taehyung sent you a message when you got home. You were sitting opposite your sister as your parents showered her in loving attention for her potentially fake academic success.

You felt invisible whenever she came home and no matter how hard you tried to talk, you were the ignored younger sibling pining for attention and you hated it.

You stayed silent with your claws in at your end of the table on the basis that after the party, you would become the favourite. There was no way she could hold that down knowing her social circle and how crazy the party will definitely be.

Feeling an alert from your phone tucked into the pocket of your jeans, you stop playing with your peas and pull it out. The silence you had adopted at the table, turned into a series of gasps and muttering under your breath once you read the message.

“What you doing? p.s. its Taehyung.”

You don’t even question how he got your number before you reply back with a timid greeting, you were just thankful that he saved you from a boring ass dinner with your family.

You were practically glued to your phone messaging him that night. He was on a roll with the worst jokes you’d ever heard when your sister finally notices your lack of attention.

“Y/N, who are you texting?” she smirks suggestively, leaning behind you. “Is it a boy?”

“Its just this boy from school, we started talking today.” you grin, turning back to your phone. “He’s funny — thats why I’m smiling, we are just friends.”

Mia smiles at you and then to your parents knowingly. “I didn’t ask but thanks for clarifying. Whats your boyfriends name?” she laughs, lunging for the phone.

“He’s not my boyfriend!” you shriek, snatching your phone back. “Leave me alone.”

“Who is Taehyung?” she laughs, running after you. “I’ll find out! You can’t hide anything from me!”

She gives up chase when you lock your bedroom door behind you. You doubt, no, you hope that she won’t remember his name. Mia is the kind of girl to beat up boys that like you, she was so over protective that it hurt.

Sinking back into the paradise of your sheets, you fall back into an endless exchange with Taehyung.

You spend all weekend and till dawn hiding under your covers texting him. It was comforting to have someone to talk to on a similar wave length, you didn’t feel as alone.

You were surprised by how much you had learnt about him in two days and how easily he got you to open up.

He loved making music and acting, his parents decided to prolong the vacation they were on to a year and he hated how he didn’t have the nerve to talk to you earlier.

You both agreed that there was this strange understanding between you, potentially caused by how much in common you had with him, but something felt …strange.

You couldn’t put your finger on it. He seemed to have either mood swings or personality swings, it almost seemed like you were talking to two different people, but you didn’t question it. You put your faith in that maybe he was just tired.

Walking the back routes to school the following week, you notice a group of boys standing beside the back entrance. They were huddled into a circle, seemingly up to no good. They looked intimidating — cigarettes hanging from their fingers, serious and hard facial expressions, and they were listening to loud rap music. It was almost scary how unapproachable they looked and how much you suddenly wanted to run away without them seeing you.

Staying out of sight, you wondered if it was worth turning back and walking to the front entrance. You didn’t want any trouble and they looked exactly that.

Looking back up to the group again you notice the familiar silhouette of Kim Taehyung hiding in the corner of the group and immediately feel your heart ricochet against your ribs. He had wanted you to come find him when you got to school so he could introduce you to his friends, you didn’t think you’d be able to so quickly.

Slowly approaching the group, your confidence begins to waver. They looked like they were well into a serious conversation and you didn’t want to interrupt.

Stopping beside a tree, you grab your phone out to text him, but when your name is said in the centre of the group ahead, you stop.

“Dude no, Namjoon and I spent the entire weekend talking to her.” Taehyung groans, running his hands through his hair.

Jumping behind the tree, you press your back against the trunk. You weren’t sure if eavesdropping was entirely appropriate, but your instincts told you to stay and do exactly that.

“Its going to work! I heard that they were throwing it at her house. I just need to talk to her a bit more okay. Y/N is too easy, don’t even worry. She’ll invite me. And then I’ll get you guys invited, its a no brainer,” he yells, scraping his shoes against the concrete, “We get along, she’s actually kind of cool for a loner.”

“I just feel bad for her. We shouldn’t use people like this, its not kind.” his blonde haired friend mutters empathetically.

“Such is life. You gotta do what you gotta do Yoongi.” he groans, stamping out his cigarette. “Come on, we gotta get to class. Its the last week and Namjoon and I want to vandalise the math block.”

You stay behind your tree and watch them saunter through the gate into school. You were shaking with adrenaline and disbelief and anger. The heart that was creeping up your body at the sight of him, gyro dropped to the pits of your stomach and your blood boiled in rage.

You suddenly felt guilty, felt horrible and felt like he just violated your privacy. No, he did violate your privacy. Holding a hand over your chest, you struggle to exhale. The hurt lodged into your throat like a rock and you were afraid that your emotions would get the best of you and that you’d cry a river right then and there.

You had told him too much about yourself and the thought that someone who had an ulterior motive for your friendship knows what others don’t and shouldn’t know, made you want to curl into yourself and cry in frustration.

You just wanted to have one thing, one nice thing in your life and you wanted that to be him. You hoped that it would be him, but Taehyung was terrible and if life teaches you anything about misery, its that terrible comes in twos.

Opening the door to the experiment room, that afternoon, you gawk at the crowd of people around your flowers. “Why is everyone standing around my sunflowers?” you ask, your voice faint, suddenly wracked with nerves.

Either your project was stunningly beautiful or something was terribly wrong. You were almost too certain that it was the latter, your classmates were too competitive to care if you did well.

The group of people surrounding your work stare at you sympathetically before moving out of the way, creating a clearing for you to see the state of your plants.

Sucking in a sharp breath from the site of them, you drag your feet defeatedly closer and closer through the clearing, disbelief indisputably on your face.

Stroking one of the last remaining petals, you slump against the edge of the table when it breaks off between your fingers.

They had withered. The once vibrant yellow replaced by a dull brown.

The students surrounding you bowed and politely left, eager to leave the awkwardness of having to comfort a top student who had definitely screwed up the worlds easiest assignment. And in doing so, uncovered the experiment box that sat beside yours.

“Ripening Bananas - Kim Taehyung”

“Y/N Y/N Y/N!” Taehyung yelps gleefully as he enters the room, passing the group of students. The sound of his happiness as he jumps in glee, burns a couple holes in your defence as you try your best to hold back your emotions as he approached you.

“Why didn’t you come and say hi to me?” he asks, playful bouts of disappointment sketched into every word. You don’t look at him but you can imagine his face contort with that cute little pout he does that seems to make everything naught.

Taking a deep breath, you move out of the view of the flowers, so Taehyung can see.

“Your flowers,” his eyes glisten with sympathy as he pulls you into an urgent, somewhat sincere hug. “I’m so sorry. You must be so upset.” he says into the crook of your neck, with the heat of his breath making you shiver against him as he rubs circles into your back.

You know he’s trying to be comforting or play the part of a comforting friend but you stand rigid against him. It’s taking all of your willpower not to wrap your hands around his neck and squeeze the air out of him.

Pushing him away, you stare at him incredulously, suddenly filled with anger. “Your idea of a surprise was ripening bananas? Why did you put your box next to mine knowing my assignment was on flowers Taehyung? I even told you how much this assignment meant to me.”

Wrapping his hand around your elbow, he murmurs lowly. “What are you talking about? What did I do?”

Shoving his hand away you point to his box. “What did you do? Taehyung, ripening bananas produce ethylene gas that causes disruption of life to flowers. You put your box right next to my flowers. You killed my flowers.”

“I didn’t know Y/N, believe-

“The assignment was on respiration, how did you not know that?”

“I-I didn’t know?” he stutters. “I definitely didn’t mean to do this, I know how much they meant to you. I would never try to hurt you.”

“Are you lying to me right now?” you ask, stepping closer to him.

“I wouldn’t lie to you. I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” he yells, begging for forgiveness with his eyes.

“You wouldn’t lie to me? Thats hilarious. Save it Taehyung.” you say, holding your hand up. “Just don’t.”

Pushing passed him, he watches silently as you yourself process what just happened. You couldn’t even argue against your results, the assignment was designed to be autonomous and you were responsible for controlling the flowers environment.

You did enough research to pass but the state of your results couldn’t guarantee even a B. Your grade had dropped and so did any hope of leaving this place.

Holding the door handle, you take a deep breath. “It was nice talking to you and Namjoon over the weekend, but had you got your facts straight, you would’ve known that my sisters party is open house. And, I’m not easy. I was just being kind even if I am a loner..”

“How did you-

“It doesn’t matter how I know.” you interrupt. “Just don’t talk to me again.”

Taehyung jumps forward to grab your arm, making you turn and face him. “No, stop. That was nothing. I didn’t mean any of that. Why would I? We talked — I talked, I haven’t talked to anyone like that in years and I did with you! We, us, I liked it a lot and so did you. You can’t deny that, I know how you feel. ” he yells, holding onto your arm to prevent you from leaving. “I don’t know what it was or what we are and I admit I was being a douchebag, but do you really think I put in all that effort just to get an invite to a party?”

You could feel the tension hang in the air as if it were a tangible object and you could see his brain run miles behind his desperate eyes, it felt like he was saying he might’ve liked you. Wait, did he just admit that he did.

How ridiculous.

Was he doing it in some last ditch effort to seem innocent, like his actions were warranted? You couldn’t trust him. He still approached you with an ulterior motive, and knowing that he did, discounted most of the priceless rom com interactions you had replayed countlessly in your mind. You didn’t even want to look at him, you despised liars.

“Yes, yes I do Taehyung.” Shaking his arm off of yours. “Come to the party if you want, just don’t bother me again. I can’t believe I was so stupid to even maybe kind of like you. Did you have fun making fun of me behind my back while I poured my feelings, ambitions and insecurities over text to eyes that should’ve only been yours? Did you and Namjoon joke about them together? Did you even once consider how I would feel? Did you even consider me as a friend?”

“Y/N, it wasn’t like that.” he snaps. “At first it was, but things changed.”

“Yeah things changed my ass, you got caught out lying. Theres more to life than pleasing your friends and hurting strangers Taehyung.”

“Strangers?” he asks, his eyes filling with a flame you couldn’t recognise. “Is that what you think you are to me?”

“Oh, I’m not? You think a week of talking under false pretence makes you qualified to be more than that? Look, I’m done. I want to go home and cry over how stupid I am. For the first time in my entire life I felt excited over something as trivial as a morning message, I got butterflies and I felt nervous coming to school because I knew you’d talk to me again. After everything that I’ve been through, I thought that I’d throw caution into the wind and open my heart. What a mistake that was. You aren’t as nice as you think you are Kim Taehyung. And now I know that too.” you yell, finally fed up with this entire situation. He’s surprised by your tone of voice and his face pales and his lower lip quivers. He looks sad or hurt, you don’t know which but the image stays painted on the back of your eyelids when you give him one last once over before running down the hallway.

You kind of hoped Taehyung would chase after you to apologise, to say something, but Taehyung was afraid you’d maul him if he followed, so he didn’t.

He didn’t even say sorry.

Stopping in the empty school hallway, you promised yourself then and there that you would never fall in love or even in like with Kim Taehyung. You were nearly charmed, you were nearly romanced by it all too.

You were so stupid.

After the graduation ceremony, you walked to the hair salon and asked them to cut and dye your hair. Getting a shade lighter from your natural dark brown hair, you decide bangs could be cute and get that too. You donate all of your clothes to charity and you throw out every single piece of high school paper.

You felt better and you felt stronger.

Your first year of university was nice. You made lots of friends in the music department and put a lot of effort into your social life. You were opening your wings and becoming a social butterfly.

It felt nice. It felt right.

It was in the second semester when you realised that you attended the same university as Taehyung. He was in the acting department, so your classes were on opposite sides of the campus.

You thought he would be gracious enough to avoid you. You weren’t forgiving enough to a person who didn’t seem at all apologetic, even if he was young and stupid at the time.

You were stubborn.

He did try to talk to you when he noticed you sitting alone in the library or waiting in line at the cafe by uni for your usual vanilla chai latte. He couldn’t understand the campus craze about that love story and how the entire female student body would order it in some weird romance fetish.

Standing three people behind you in the line, he watches you swipe your card into the eftpos machine and make small talk with the famous chestnut barista.

“I’m not a doctor or anything but these drinks are like tranquillisers and are so good for my dysfunctional sleeping patterns.” you grin, handing the machine back to him.

“It’s good to hear that I do more than just rope hearts in with those drinks. Hey, speaking of hearts, Mia was telling me the other day that she barely sees you. Spare me a favour and go see her? I want to be able to kiss my girlfriend without your sister barging through the door and ruining the mood. I love your sister but I love my girlfriend more.”

“Ew, okay. Thanks for telling that?” you raise your eyebrows as the other barista hands you your drink. “I still can’t believe how famous you and your girlfriend are. It disgusts me. Anyways, have a good day Hoseok.”

“Sounds like someones lonely. If you want a boyfriend, I have friends who are single. Just say the word,” he winks, making you blush. “You have a great day too Y/N, I’ll see you later.” he laughs, waving at you as you leave.

Deciding against caffeine, Taehyung runs after you as you leave. This would be attempt number 7 at trying to talk to you. Rounding the corner of the cafe, he swears under his breath when he watches you pant as you get in your car and leave.

You ran. Again,.

Truth be told you saw him in the line as your waited for your drink. You felt his scolding gaze on your back the entire time and knew he would try and talk to you as you left, but running away from those situations before they could happen became your signature move.

Your relationship with him, without actually having any resemblance of a relationship, was tiring. Innocent glances from across lecture theatres or when he saw you at parties, curious glances in study groups and awkward tension if you were too close. The tiring part was avoiding him.

No-one could understand why you’d want to avoid him. He was good-looking, stylish and smart, but your friends helped you run away anyway. They kind of liked being affiliated with Taehyungs group of attractive friends, but found the tension between you and him too suffocating to bare. So out of respect for your friendship, they didn’t ask questions and they didn’t intervene.

Again, you were thankful.

Taehyung couldn’t hide it anymore. He was sick of your flat tyre attitude and your motivated agenda to always avoid him. He just wanted to be friends with you, so he could live comfortably. He wanted to apologise and move on, but you wouldn’t let him.

At the very end of your first year, and the beginning of summer school. You moved in with your sister. You couldn’t afford to live in the dorms anymore and you were glad you had her apartment to fall back on.

You couldn’t sleep and your neighbours were loud and everything was a clusterfuck of suck. Of course you knew your sister liked to throw parties and casual get togethers, you figured it would be a weekend only thing. Just so long as you got good sleep on the weekdays, you were happy.

What you didn’t know about the arrangement was how exclusive she had become with Taehyung and his friends.

True to form, on the day of your high school graduation, she found Taehyung and pulled him into an affectionate bear hug in pure unadultered joy. She couldn’t thank him enough and Taehyung seemed to marvel at the affection and felt less guilty. Atleast someone came out of the situation happy.

After meeting his friends and becoming fond of his older friend Jin, they attached themselves to her parasitically. They enjoyed the benefits of her friendship, while you eternally rolled your eyes. Had you known that Taehyung would almost always be in the same domain, you probably would’ve just found a job instead and stayed in the dorms.

But you didn’t. You weren’t going to let him dictate your life.

The casual drink ups she hosted meant late nights at the library or at a cafe, staying over at friends houses and doing everything you can to avoid him. It was practical and beneficial for your academics. You got lots of work completed before their deadlines and lots of guitar practice in between.

You were happy.

Sitting at his second year introductory lecture for his music paper, Taehyung flicks the freshly died red tips of his hair out from his face as he waits for the lecture to begin. “So boring.” he moans, shifting his body to comfortably mould into his seat.

Dropping his head onto the arm he had sprawled across his desk, he closes his drooping eyes. Usually he’d be concerned and worried over the absence of his desk partner, but he was so tired from the festive events of last night to even care. His thirst for alcohol was drying up and he found himself sober almost all of the time, in search for something that will make him feel even more alive.

You were still ignoring him and he was becoming increasingly aware of your presence and your stupid strawberry apple scented shampoo that drove him crazy. He didn’t want to but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you whenever you were near.

At this point he had tried everything but talking to you to get your attention and he needed something that would make you stay long enough so he could.

He watched you run away like you were the plague a million times before he realised that it bothered him. Its not like he had dated you or thought of you as anything other than potential. Its just that it was weird and it didn’t feel right that you hated him so much.

They were just sunflowers.

He mulled over how much he screwed up a potentially great friendship and was willing to work hard to gain your trust, to be friends again.

He wanted to listen to music with you or stand in cafe lines laughing with you. He wanted to study and have deep 3am conversations with you. He wanted you to pass by him with a smile and a wave like you did with everyone else. He just wanted you to be okay with him.

It was the simple things really that made him feel like he was a firework, burning up all on his own and all because of you.

The door to the lecture hall opens and bangs against the wall loudly but Taehyung doesn’t look up. Instead, he nuzzles into the crook of his elbow, feeling the lull of sleep slowly pull him into the void.

“I’m sorry I’m late. Oh, it hasn’t started? Oh thank the heavens,” you say, panting to the teaching assistant seated by the door. “My seat? Oh, next to the sleeping boy? Alright, thank-you. Sorry again.”

You rush down the aisles of desks to find the last vacant seat.

You had accidentally put your alarm on PM instead of AM and only had 10 minutes to run like hell to class. You weren’t able to apply make up or tame your wild wet hair in time. You looked like shit, but atleast you were well rested.

Placing your bag on top of the desk, you slink hurriedly into the chair beside him eager to get this class over and done with. Leaning back in your chair, you relax your breathing and fan your hot red face.

Pushing in your chair, you take out your notebook and pen, preparing to take any important notes. The movement ushers your sleeping desk partner awake and he groans at the displeasure.

Licking his lips, Taehyung sits up and looks at his rude desk parter with the intention of telling them to soften their movements so he can sleep a little longer. But he stiffens and the words die in his mouth when he realises who his desk partner is and then suddenly, Taehyung doesn’t think this class will be boring anymore.

“Y/N.” he smiles.

“What are you doing here?”

Opening the front door to an ocean of drunk college seniors wasn’t exactly what you had in mind on a Friday night. The plethora of sweaty bodies and the throbbing of bass music made it nearly impossible for you to enter the safety of your home.

It was kind of intoxicating, the feel of it all. How the lights cascaded down in strobes of red and green, and how the crowd of dancers throbbed against the music, hungry to climb the peak of the beat. You were surrounded, completely surrounded by strangers in your own home.

Only God knows how many people have trashed your room now, have peed in your plants or have consummated drunken regrets in your bed.

But where was all the furniture? you thought. You were sure a lamp used to live by the door, and a couch against the far wall and you remembered family portraits hung everywhere, but everything was gone. The house was completely empty of your stuff.

Pushing through the brick walls of strangers, your eyes get pulled up from the ground by some magnetic force to Jins concerned chestnut orbs across the room.

Waving you over with a smile, you spot Mia beside him talking to her friends. You didn’t exactly hate her friends but because they practically lived in your house, you held them each accountable for every Friday night and every piece of broken furniture. This party was out of control though, there was no way in hell that Mia threw this on her own knowing the reputable harm they could suffer trying to find another rental apartment when they would eventually get evicted.

Anger built up in the pit of your stomach at the sight of her laughing, the infectious sound spreading to her friends. How could she laugh this off when the impeding homeless status loomed so high above your heads.And wasn’t there a TV there before?

Walking passed Jin, you shove Mia’s shoulder. “What is this? And where is all of our stuff?”

“At Taehyungs.” she slurs in response. “And guess what! No rent! So you don’t have to work at that cafe!” she yells happily, affectionally rubbing your face with her sweaty palm. She was drunk. Very drunk.

Shoving her hand away, you step forward in anger. “That doesn’t explain why you have a whole college of people in our house. If someone breaks a window, or a wall, we can’t afford to fix it.”

“Y/N, I tried. I really did.” Jin smiles apologetically, letting Mia lean on him.“Taehyung should be around if you want to talk with him. I’m sorry that this had to happen without you knowing.”

Poking the inside of your cheek with your tongue, you gape at him incredulously. “Jin, lets skip the bullshit apologies. Sorry didn’t stop you from drinking your gin or inviting your friends. And I have a working phone too you know.” Running your hands through your hair, you take another deep breath.

You can’t remember a time where you weren’t frustrated with these people. “Just look after her.” you spat, stepping away from the group and turning around in search for a drink or for something that could make you less annoyed at the world.

Spotting a chilli bin of alcohol leaning against the wall, you rush over and open the lid. Grabbing the first beer bottle your excruciatingly sober fingers could find, you twist the bottle cap off against your forearm and slowly bring it to your mouth. You weren’t sure if jumping into the cess pool of beer was a good idea, what was the rhyme, beer before grass your on your ass, grass before beer you’re in the clear?

You never understood what that exactly meant, were you supposed to eat some sort of grass? Is that why guys like to drink beer outside? Either way, you planned to be on your ass blind drunk by 1, or in twenty minutes if you were lucky. Hoping to be lucky, you scull the drink at full force and slam the bottle down on the table beside you. The alcohol swirled a cautious reminder of your lightweight status as you felt your stomach already detest the quick consumption.

“Holy shit, that was impressive.” a voice cheers beside you. Turning your face to acknowledge the person invading your silent rage, you almost immediately roll your eyes. The boy was leaning leisurely against the wall in ripped black skinny jeans and a white button up with a black leather jacket. And the boy was Kim Taehyung.

Suddenly feeling frustrated again, you bite your bottom lip. No amount of alcohol can iron out the wrinkles Taehyung makes in the sheets of your rage, even if he did look sexy as hell doing it.

“Tough day?” he asks, taking a sip from his bottle. “You look like you want to kill someone.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you scoff. “Just go away.”

“Maybe I will.” he frowns, dangling the bottle in front of your face. “Or maybe I won’t.”

The see-through bottle of vodka that hung loosely from his fingertips cried out an incessant need to be wasted and the more his crescent moon eyes burned holes into your skin, the more you wanted to rip the bottle from his stupid murderous hands and save yourself from having to converse with him.

You hated Taehyung and you were pretty sure Taehyung hated you back. You did spend a good year and a half completely ignoring him, so not without good reason.

Knowing that though didn’t stop you from ripping the bottle from his slimy fingers and bringing it to your mouth. He already hated you, so theres no point in being nice really. “Y/N’s a bad girl hey?” he laughs, watching you practically inhale his alcohol.

Regretting your decision almost immediately, you close yours eyes against the strong burn of vodka. “You know Taehyung, I could say the same about you.” you choke, still feeling the burn of the vodka in your throat.

Taehyung relaxes against the wall in a silent fit of laughter. “That would’ve burned me had it not burnt you first.” he grins, tilting his face to study yours.

“Why are you staring at me?” you ask, still grimacing from the vodka.

“I want you to smile at me. We are desk partners and you refuse to show me them pearly whites, how could I not want to see you smile,” he stammers, crossing his arms over his chest. “I want to hear your laugh too.”

You weren’t sure if it was the intimacy of his attention or the alcohol that was making you blush, either way, you wanted no part in it. “Bold demand from you Mr. Popular Kim Taehyung. Go away, you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk, I just —you never do and I want you too.” he says, stepping forward.

You groan loudly at his eagerness to trap you into a conversation. Putting your arms in the pocket of your jumper you yell over the music. “Well I would if you got the hint, or the hints for the past two years that I don’t actually like you.”

He laughs, stepping close to whisper in your ear. “We’re roommates now. Can’t we just forget high school and move on with our lives. Well, mainly you because I’m over it,” His breath sends a shudder down your spine as he adds in a low voice. “I’d really like to be friends with you.”

He was so close to your face that you could see the pores on his nose and how red and dilated his eyes were. It only made you grimace harder. “I can see right through you Taehyung. Hot guys like you only want one thing.”

“You think I’m hot?” he grins, winking at you suggestively.

Standing straighter you poke your finger into his chest, pushing him away from you. The room was already suffocating enough, closeness between you and him wasn’t exactly helping the anxiety you felt.

“Oh please, even you think you’re hot.” you grimace. “Don’t look at me like one of the girls you think you’re going to get. I refuse to like assholes like you.”

“What if I’m not like the others?” he asks, his eyes twinkling under the strobes of light. “You refuse to like me? We’ll see about that.” he grins, putting his sunglasses on and swiping another bottle of vodka from the chilli-bin. “Just want to mention that I feel blessed that you stopped ignoring me two months ago and everyday feels like a dream when you aren’t being the ice queen to me. How about we get out of here?”

“You can go and take all your five hundred people with you.” you grin, satisfied with your comeback. “Desk partners don’t ignore each other, especially when they have to actually do work together. You should count your blessings that I decided to be nicer to you.”

“I do everyday. Wait, is that half of a smile I see? Must be my lucky day. Come on, lets have some fun.” he beams, pushing off against the wall and pulling you within the crowd of people.

“Let me make myself clear Taehyung, this does not change how much I do not like you.” you frown and he mirrors your expression.

Pulling you harder towards him, he yells loudly over the music. “Thats good to know because I hate you too. Come on.”

Clinging to his extended hand, you watch his back get swallowed by the crowd. Had it not been for his hand holding yours tightly, you probably would’ve let go.

You have no idea where he’s taking you but in that very moment, you don’t care. Where the vodka goes, you go. The alcohol made you feel free and the idea of being around the campus hottie and notorious sunflower murderer, made you feel more alive than you cared to admit.

In your first year of university you had made some pretty horrible friend choices. They showed you a life outside of the books and inside the clubs - a boring adventure you had pretended to love so much that sometimes now, you crave it.

Taehyung tugs your hand and pulls you down the hallway, you hadn’t even realised you were holding your breath until he turns to ask if you are okay. You half smile and grab the second bottle out of his hands. Maintaining your eye contact with him, you take a drink.

“I am now.” you murmur, wiping your mouth with your arm. “Was this your idea of getting out of here?” you say, taking in the emptiness of the hallway outside your old bedroom door.

He laughs lowly. “You looked like you were going to have a panic attack or something back there. Thought you’d appreciate some air.”

You blink back his words. “Thats actually kind of thoughtful but I think I’ll be fine after a couple more drinks. Oh, and if I get drunk …stay away from me okay.”

He salutes you and opens your door. “Lets drink in here, its better than out there.” You nod and he clinks his bottle with yours. “We’re not stopping until these bottles are empty okay.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.” you yell, running into the room as he closes it behind you.

You swayed to the music as a rush suddenly filled your veins. Taehyung was laughing and drinking and swaying with you and the feeling of not being alone felt so addictive it felt almost right. Its not until the morning after where you fully understand the gravity of your choice of drunk company and why addiction is usually a bad thing.

The splitting headache that threatened to tear the hemispheres of your brain apart, held your drunk adventures with Taehyung captive and you weren’t sure if that was a good or a bad thing. Looking down at your almost naked body, you can only assume that whatever happened between you and him wasn’t good.

Why do I have no shirt on?

Sliding back into your jumper, you closely observe your skin. You didn’t have hickies or any other evidence of sex —good. You were alone — also good and the bedroom door was locked — amazing.

“Y/N, wake up please. Seriously oh my god, fucking wake up already!” Mia yells, pounding profusely on the bedroom door. “Y/N, we need to leave now!” she panics, kicking the door. Opening the door, your immediately pulled behind your sister and dragged out of the house.

Apparently you only had approximately twenty minutes to get out of the apartment before the police would be called and Mia had been frantically trying to unlock the door and get you out. Pushed into Mias car, you can only smile at the eighth forced eviction since living with her and how Mia’s party had completely trashed the house.

How someone managed to put chairs into the tree on the front porch, burn the grass into the shape of a giant dick and destroy the mailbox was beyond you.

Banging her head against the steering wheel again she laughs. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. That sleeze - our landlord, he came over two nights ago and ….I had this feeling but I ignored it. Probably shouldn’t have ignored it, I mean it could have been you instead.” she stops, banging her head again and resting it on the steering wheel. “I just didn’t want to think he would do it, you know. Or that anyone of his esteem would.”

“What are you talking about?” you murmured, placing your hand on her shoulder. “Mia whats happened?”

“I thought it was suspicious that our rent was so cheap. That dirty bastard tried to touch me —I let him in thinking that he was fixing a drainage leak and he cornered me in the lounge. I kept saying no and he wouldn’t listen. So I socked him in the nose like dad taught us.” she says, shaking her head against the steering wheel. “I’ve never seen a nose break so hard Y/N. I nearly felt sorry for him. ”

Mia raises her head, her eyes puffy and gloomy as she peers at you. “I’ve never seen a grown man run so fast. And then I called my friends looking for a place to stay and Taehyung offered his home.”

Placing her head back on the steering wheel, Mia sighs loudly. “We officially live with Kim Taehyung now. Isn’t life great.”

You pat Mias back, “Well, we should probably go home then.”

Mia scoffs, gaping at you incredulously, “What no argument?”

“No point.” you murmur in reply. “I can understand now why you threw such a big party. I only regret not smashing a window.”

Mia laughs, starting the ignition and driving out of the driveway. “Y/N as your older sister I need to say that if a guy treats you like shit, you sock them so hard in the mouth that their mother will feel it and regret birthing such a creature. Okay?”

You nod in agreement and she rubs your shoulder. “I hope you don’t ever have to be put in a position where you feel like violence is warranted. Its scares me just thinking about it.”

Covering her hand on the steering wheel as she drives, you give it a comforting squeeze. “Everything is going to be okay, we’ve got each other. Lets just go to Taehyung’s, maybe report him and then forget about it.”

You and Mia nod in agreement and drive in silence to his house. He lived close to campus so his house wasn’t that far away from yours.

Mia had to triple check the address on the phone to him because the house he directed her to was the biggest and most lavish house on the block.

You stayed outside to admire the urban architecture of the two story building as she raced inside. The house was huge and the front lawn was bigger. The inside was even more impressive. Mahogany wooden floors, cream walls and home decoration on every single wall. The lounge was comfortable. Dark grey carpet, light beige furniture and an automatic fire place as the centre piece. You could see yourself sitting in front of it reading a book. It was honestly the dream house from the Sims you never had the patience to build.

It was a little unbelievable how Taehyung was the only person living in this house, but it kind of made sense as to why he never goes home. To be on your own in this house would drive anyone crazy.

As instructed by Mia, Taehyung preferred if you had the room next to his and Mia have the upstairs bedroom. You couldn’t think of a particular reason why but you didn’t care enough to ask. After unpacking your belongings, you set your books on your nightstand and lay atop your new bed.

You hear the low hum of Taehyung singing through the wall and you bathe in the sound. He was a good singer and the jazz quality of his voice sent electricity through your body. Curling in on yourself, you press your ear against the wall and smile. The longer you listened the harder it felt like your heart was consuming itself.

“I wonder what he’s doing?” you whisper before being startled by your thoughts. Why you were wondering what he was doing? You hate him Y/N.

Do I? The question itself provokes a train of broken memories from the night before and you feel the constraints of your hangover letting go as you cover your mouth in shock or more so, in embarrassment.

Taehyung slips out of his ripped black jeans and covers his lower body with the empty chip bowl. “Stop staring at me, I’m shy.”

You laugh. “Oh please, you didn’t look shy when I caught that girl over the summer break giving you a blowjob in the recording studios at school.” Narrowing your eyes, you bring your index finger to your temple, “What was her name, Ellie?”

Taehyung drops the chip bowl and you watch it fall.

“Fine. You get this question wrong and your jumper and shirt come off. What is a group of bears called?”

“Taehyung! Are you serious? Who’s going to know that?” you whine, nearly falling over in the process.

“So you don’t know what a group of bears are called.” he snorts, throwing his hands in the air in success. “Clothes. Off. Now.” he snarls, leaning on the bedroom door for support.

Disappointed in the unfair game but too drunk to even second guess his ulterior motive, you groan.“You can’t laugh at my bra choice okay, had I known I would be taking my clothes off, I would’ve avoided you.”

“Yeah but you didn’t and we’re best friends now. So, don’t be mean.” he says, sliding down the door to sit on the ground.

Turning away to rip off your jumper, you take your time with the buttons on your blouse. You weren’t wasted but you felt drunk enough to need the wall for support.

“Hurry up! We haven’t finished the game. I don’t like losing.” he moans, leaning his head against the wall again and closing his eyes.

Turning back around, you stumble to grab the bottle of vodka at your feet, but stop when you realise its empty. “Fucking hell Taehyung, can’t a girl be shy?” you sob, slowly sliding the blouse off.

“You aren’t a ..girl ..you are …um” he stammers, eyes glued to your chest. “Those are nice.”

Feeling defensive, you cover your chest with your arms. “I don’t remember allowing commentary on my body. You’re too sober, drink.”

Taehyung smiles a cheeky grin. “I wanted to be a bit sober to remember.”

Running your hands across your stomach, you walk towards him. “You might as well since you are never going to see my body again.”

Leaning down to grab the bottle of alcohol sitting beside him, Taehyung pulls you down to his lap.

“Here.” he says, passing you the bottle. Taehyung watches you closely wrap your lips around the top of the bottle and pour the contents down your throat. He found it strangely erotic watching you drink, especially with how close you were and how nice your boobs looked at his angle.

Pulling the bottle away from your mouth, you bring it to his mouth. “No stopping until they are empty remember! Drink.”

Holding the bottle to his mouth, he stares at you through slitted eyes and you innocently touch his biceps. “I didn’t think you’d be so muscular,” you admit sheepishly, trying to keep your eyes open. “I like your arms.”

He hiccups putting the bottle back down beside him, staring at you in confusion. “My arms?” you nod. “Your arms.”

Taehyung smiles down at you and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. “I like you when you’re drunk, you talk to me, you look at me, you touch me. Lets be drunk forever Y/N.” he sings, swaying you.

“Hey, stop swaying me. I’m not a baby.” you frown, poking your finger into his cheek.

Taehyung grabs your finger, his brows furrowed and eyes dark. “Can’t you be this affectionate when you’re sober?”

There was a sudden seriousness to his voice that made your heart shake as he wraps his hand around your finger, sending barbs of warmth down to your toes.

“With you?” you ask, looking into his eyes. You swear his eyes were black and bold before but now, the longer you looked, the more you saw melted caramel behind the alcohol shine. You’ve known him for years but right then and there, it felt like the first time you had ever actually looked at him.

“With me.” he says, rubbing circles into your lower back. “Just me.”

Bringing your hand up to cup his cheek, he closes his eyes and leans into your palm. The intimacy of the moment was more intoxicating than anything. The harder your heart raced against your ribs, the faster time seemed to slip away from you.

“With just you.” you murmur, running your thumb along the lines of his cupids bow to across his pink cheeks. His jaw slackened as you ran your thumb behind his ear and down his jaw to rest on his chin. His mouth was agape in wonder enjoying the pleasure of your touch and his gaze was pensive as he watched you explore his face.

Running his tongue over his lips, he watches your gaze drop to his mouth in curiosity and you watch as his lips shift to whisper your name.

“Y/N.”

You hum in response as you play with the hair on the back of his head, and slowly bring your slitted eyes to his.

“Y/N. I like you. I’m admitting it because I know you won’t remember. So Y/N, I like you and I have liked you since before I killed your sunflowers.”

Your hand stills in his hair and he goes rigid against you. For a long moment, he looks absolutely terrified of what you’re going to do next. But when you caress his cheeks with your hands, he softens into your embrace again and smiles.

You watch the edges of his mouth rise and your curiosity becomes the better of you. You wanted to know what he tasted like, what he felt like and if his kisses really did pull down stars like all the other girls said they did.

So you looked into his melted caramel eyes one last time before you leant forward and pressed your lips to his.

“Shit.” you scream, thrashing against the bedsheets. “Fuck Fuck Fuck. What have I done.”

Taehyung stops singing and almost immediately runs to your room. “Y/N, I heard you scream. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Looking up to meet his frazzled expression, your eyes fall to his lips and your heart begins to soar through your chest. The memory flickers through your brain like a movie, in complete disbelief that you remembered when you usually didn’t, in disbelief of his confession, in disbelief it actually happened and even more in disbelief that you wanted to do it again. Throwing your face back into the pillow, you sob into your pillows.

You kissed Kim Taehyung and you liked it.

If someone asked you to write a list of things you’re good at, you’d probably write, “I am a really good drinker.” and nothing else because you don’t remember anything in the morning enough to criticise yourself. You’re the worlds best drinker in your own right. If theres one thing you do know about drinking however, it’s that you should stop. Drinking makes you aware of how affectionately deprived you are and it bestows the confidence to be intimate with others. The strangest part about this entire thing? Wine usually makes you black out. Beer makes you regret and vodka usually takes away your night for the rest of your life. Maybe it was fate or the perils of mixing your drinks because somehow you remembered this one, or well enough to know that you and Taehyung could never just be friends anymore.

“Are you alright?” he repeats, pulling you out of your dazed expression. You were okay before but now? Now you were mad. Standing up, you shakily slap him across his cheek. The loud stinging noise cuts through the eerie silence of your new residence and the red outline of your palm makes a home on his soft olive skin. “Get. Out,” you shout, shaking with the adrenaline coursing through your veins. “Right now.” He stares back in equal amounts of shock and equal amounts of confusion. “Wh-what was that for?” he stutters, cupping his cheek. Raising your eyebrows you yell, “What was that for?!” Pacing the room, you cover your face with your hands. You were beyond embarrassed and you were beyond upset that the context of his confession last night meant that it had happened before. You were angry. You were so angry that your first kiss had been while you were drunk and while you were with him. The little shread of intimacy that you don’t normally grace, had been with him. Turning to him again, you push against his chest, pushing him towards the door. You needed to be alone, you needed to cry, you needed to do something that wasn’t around him. But as you push against him, he stands his ground and grabs your hands. Holding them above your head tightly with one hand, pulling you close to his face with the other. The red tips of his hair are touching your brows as you stand frozen, almost nose to nose, stunned by his sudden forcefulness. To be fair Y/N you did just slap him. Searching his eyes as he was with yours, you silently beg that they weren’t memories and that they were just figments of your imagination, but the longer you stare back, the quicker your anger erodes down to confusion. Your words of discomfort were lodged in your throat and you were suddenly overcome with the desire to lean forward and see for yourself if they were memories or not. “Y/N,” he says, interrupting your train of thought, his tone of voice low and heavy. “Do you remember… do you remember anything from last night?” He stares at you with bold coffee coloured eyes as you flicker your gaze down to his lips and then back to his eyes. The tension was so palpable, so dense, that the idea of staying so close to him when he was expecting an answer you didn’t want to provide, especially after hitting him, suddenly felt like a noose as you struggled to breathe.   You brush your nose against his when you pull away. Your hearts racing and your palms are sweating and you’re absolutely sure your blushing to the tips of your ears when you gape back at him. “Y/N,” He stands abruptly, grabbing your wrist again. “Do you remember us, yes or no?” “Us?” you ask, swallowing buckets of guilt as you gape at the violet artwork on his neck. I didn’t do that did I? “These aren’t from you,” he says, following your gaze. “It was a hard night.” Not wanting to ask why, you ask instead. “Do you remember anything from last night?” He avoids your eye contact at this question before shaking his head. Are we both playing coy?   “I remember everything,” he glowers suddenly, leaning against the door. “The question I want to know, is how much you remember.” He was definitely not playing coy. “Y/N!” Mia yells from down the hallway. “Come to my room, I have some of your boxes!” You’ve never been more thankful for Mia than in this very moment. Grimacing at Taehyung, you skip passed him but not without being grabbed by him again. “This conversation isn’t over.” Shaking his arm off you smile, “I don’t remember anything from last night but you giving me vodka. The headache I’m nurturing is the product of thinking it was a good idea to drink with you.” You watch his eyebrows burrow at your obvious lie. “I think you’re lying.” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why would I need to do that?”, you say confidently. You weren’t sure where all this confidence to speak up was coming from and its clear from his reaction that he wasn’t sure either. Taehyung stands up straighter, removing his arms from his chest. Rubbing his neck he stutters, “W-Well o-okay the-then.” Turning from his suddenly embarrassed expression, you yell to Mia. “I’m having a shower first Mia!” shooting him one last glance, you hurriedly walk into the bathroom and slam the door behind you. Ripping off your clothes, you turn the shower on and jump underneath the stream of hot water. You suddenly felt prudent, afraid that the naivety of your nature was a trap for deceit, especially given Taehyung’s seemingly hidden manipulative side. So as you pour soap into the palm you slapped him with, you decide to erase the memory of last night and scrub away the reminder of your sinful behavior. If only water could carve away the thoughts that torment our minds.

2 Months Later

“Y/N, get in this shower right now and pull your hair out of this goddamn drain.” Taehyung growls, his loud voice echoing against the bathroom tiles. “The water isn’t going down because of you!” It had been officially two months since you started living with Taehyung and things were going well. Ignoring his obsession with wanting you to see him naked, he was a harmless kitten with now freshly dyed brown hair. “Taehyung!” you yell back. “Gross. I’m not falling for that.” He doesn’t reply but you can hear his giggles muffled by what you think might be his hands. He has too much fun trying than succeeding. Living with him didn’t turn out to be such a bad idea. He respected your privacy enough to knock before barreling into your bedroom and although you were grumpy most of the time, it didn’t incite arguments with the surprisingly bubbly and protective man child. He was immature, childish, playful and emotional, and he really loved to cuddle.   It was nice not feeling alone.   

Since your bedrooms were separated by a thin wall, after a while, Taehyung began to knock on the wall before running to your room with his pillow. The first time he did, you were so frightened that you nearly punched him in the throat. The second time he did, you were too tired to say no and had consequently woken up with his hair in your mouth and his hands on places they shouldn’t. And by the third time, you were already in love with his scent and the way he rubbed your back to sleep. It was something your mother used to do and he was welcome in your room so long as he did. Setting up a wall knocking system, one knock meant hello, are you awake and three knocks were a warning, im coming over. Despite this, living with him had become a well nurtured secret. He would warn you when his friends would come over and you would stay at the library until they left. Since he was a well known colleague of yours and a student lusted over by many, he was afraid of unneeded conflict, he was afraid of what they might think.    You avoided each other at uni but still indulged in note passing and secret winks. The thought never crossed his mind that you actually owned a phone, he enjoyed the excitement of a secret too much. So beside the handful of Mia’s friends and a couple of his, you became a secret.  

“Alright class. I want you to open your minds, I don’t want some cheap 1-minute noodle kind of essays. I want authentic, different, tasteful ramyeon. Which is exactly why this essay is now a group report.” Mr. Jones yells enthusiastically, eliciting collective groans from his audience. Waiting for the chatter and rage to simmer down, he paces behind the podium with his thumb and his index finger vice pinching his chin. His other hand furiously rubbed the purple and orange hideously checkered fabric on his stomach. You had noticed a little quirk about him, he would rub his stomach when he was bursting at the seems to yell something extraordinary or socially devastating. And from the pensive but sadistic expression he wore behind his glasses, it was the latter. “You’ll be in random groups of fours, your names are down here and yes, before you ask, I am Satan. Beside your name, feel free to sign your soul away so I know you attended the class. Oh and don’t have too much fun sharing your workload with your fellow inferno buddies. On that note, you are all free to roam your real hell. Class dismissed.” Sinking back down into your seat, you gather up your materials. You hadn’t been paying attention that entire lecture or for that fact, any of them. You were so tired all the time that you kind of just dozed off in his classes. He was too intelligent for you to keep up and you weren’t even sure what the class was on anymore.

Walking down the stairs, you hurriedly skim the papers content for your name and fell upon your group.

Claudia Smith Y/N Y/L/N  Gabby Young  Park Jimin

“There goes any prospect of a good grade,” you groan, smacking your forehead. Of all the people to get, you got your slacker friends. “Definitely not going to get any work done with this lot.” Taking a picture of the piece of paper, you send it to their Facebook accounts and in the process make a group chat.  

You  Screw our lives, we got put into a group report together for Mr. Jones’ class.

Jimin   Oh thank god, someone smart

Gabby  You don’t sound excited Y/N? That’s great news! :)

Claudia  Its bcos she’s single Gabs, single people dnt get excited over anything.

You Dump your boyfriend and date me then

Claudia Ur funny. I’ve got class now, so we could meet up tomorrow morning? Get a head start?

Jimin   I’ll date you Y/N ;) My class is next door to yours, wait up and I’ll walk you to your next class bae

You I’ll punch you in the throat Jimin.

Jimin  Sounds like a date to me baby ;) see you guys tomorrow!

Gabby  Ew guys seriously ugh. Tomorrow sounds good :)

You Don’t call me baby.  Library, 9am. See you then team.

 “Y/N,” Jimin yells as you leave the room, his cheerful voice bouncing off every surface of the hallway. “Wait up.” “I’m coming!” he yelps as you slowly start walking away, his black hair bobbing in the wind as his little legs ran towards you. Jimin had a fascination with leather pants and showing off his toned thighs, he –much like Taehyung, loved the attention. And you, much like every other girl, loved giving it to him. Who wouldn’t. Stopping beside you he hooks his arm around yours. The action was completely normal for Jimin, he was loud and proud about his affection for you, no matter how uncomfortable it made you feel. “Y/N, you’ve got comp class right now in the Murphy block right?” he grins, pushing you towards that general direction. “Lets go then, don’t want my girlfriend being late to class.” “I’m not going to ask how you know that Jimin but oh my god, don’t say that out loud because if people hear you, I will kill you.” You whisper, looking around before slapping his forearm. You had become friends with Jimin in your freshmen year. He had dropped his wallet and like the good natured person you were, you searched for him all over campus just to give it back. He admired your effort and had decided to reward you with his friendship, despite chagrin from others. Being close to guys that looked like Jimin meant the constant need to tell people you were just friends. It didn’t help that Jimin enjoyed being physically affectionate with you or that he was currently dragging you to class with a cheshire grin. The jealous stares, the malicious whispers, it didn’t cross his mind how it might affect you, he was just too happy being himself. Stopping outside the threshold of two hours of boredom with Taehyung, Jimin kisses you on the cheek and shoves your shoulders in the open classroom. You turn to wave goodbye but notice a familiar mischievous gleam in his chocolate eyes. Don’t do it Jimin, don’t you dare do it. Don’t you dare yell anything. You pray, as you turn and rush down the aisles to your seat. “Have a good day baby! Learn lots!” he shouts embarrassingly over the chatter of the classroom. I’m going to kill him. You stop rigid in the middle of the class with a frown before covering your face with your bag. You don’t need to look to know, you can feel their curious eyes burning holes into your body as the room erupts with laughter. Waiting for the class to die down, you sit up straight in your seat and set out your materials. You avoid looking anywhere but straight ahead when you can feel Taehyung’s piercing stare as he nudges you with his elbow. He sits there in silence before slipping a note onto your half of the desk, weary of prying eyes. “Are you and Jimin a thing?” You frown at the note and write back,  “Whats it to you?” Slipping it on to his desk, you hear the sharp intake of breath before he rushingly scribbles. “What’s it to me? I’m closer to you than him! Are you trying to make me jealous?” You smile before replying,  “Why would I need to go and do that?” You don’t reply to the other notes he leaves to instead focus on the lesson and after a couple angry huffs on his end, he gets the hint. You probably should tell him that you aren’t but the idea made you excited, you just loved enticing chaos. Why did it matter to him anyway, you’re a free bird! When class ends your about to ask him if he’s going straight home, but as soon as the class ends he shoots out of his seat and storms out. You don’t miss the angry look on his face as he sinks his head into his grey turtleneck sweater. You don’t miss how tightly he’s gripping his black leather bag over his shoulder and you don’t miss the way he doesn’t look back. Taehyung doesn’t come home that night but you hear him sneak in at half past 1. You hear him pant as he slips under his covers. You hear him turn over and over and over. You hear him thrash against his sheets, until you hear him perplex, “I don’t know what to do anymore.” You can almost see him burrowing his brows, rubbing his eyes and licking his lips Turning to face the wall, you hesitantly knock. If he doesn’t reply to you he hates you and you’ve screwed up, but if he does, he doesn’t hate you and you’re happy. He stops groaning and you can hear him shift closer to the wall. He knocks back after a couple minutes of silence and your heart fills with relief. Knocking back twice, you hear him muffle his giggles before he responds with three knocks. Short lived anger, okay. You laugh before knocking back but he doesn’t respond. The shifting of his sheets and the movement of his bed against the wall sound like he’s getting up, but after a couple minutes of nothing, you decide he’s probably just gone back to sleep instead. Rolling back on your side, you hear another knock, but on your door this time as Taehyung opens it and peeps his head through the crack. “Are you sleeping?” he whispers, leaning his head onto the door frame. “I can’t sleep.” Closing your eyes, you shift closer to the wall and lift up your blankets prodding him to join you and he smiles joyfully before shutting the door, rushing over and slipping under the covers. “If I was with Jimin, I wouldn’t let you do this.” You whisper as he wraps his arms around your waist. You feel the budding protest build in your throat as he pulls you close, but you swallow it down when he nudges himself comfortably against your chest. “You can’t just run away from me when you’re angry. I swear to anyone in the clouds Tae that when I do decide to date someone, you’d probably be the first to know.” Taking a deep breath, he rubs your back the way he knows you like. “Yeah, I know.”   Sinking into his arms after a while, he shifts his head up to the crook of your neck. You were grateful, his hot laboured breaths were quickly defrosting your body. It had been one of the coldest months on record and you welcomed any warmth with open arms. You couldn’t sleep. It had been more than an hour since he came in and your brain just couldn’t relax. Your entire body was on edge, you were too excited and he was way too comfortable. Turning on your back, you subtly shift his body to the side of you, his head laying on your chest, his arms splattered on your abdomen. Selfishly hugging the warmth closer, you wrap your arms around his waist and watch the branches from the tree outside cast shadows on your beige curtains. The moonlight peeped through the cracks of the frost covered window, and you watch it stream light into your room. Following the streaks up to his face, you admire how it accentuates his jaw and the prettiness of his lips. The fluttering of his eyelashes grasp your attention and your eyes widen in surprise. He was still awake. “Why are you awake?” you ask softly, running your hand through his hair. He doesn’t say anything or nudge closer like he usually does. He looks up to you instead and after a minute of exchanging weird looks, he shifts his body over yours to slowly kiss your cheek. His lips are hot and your cheeks are now undoubtedly hotter at the spontaneous intimacy. Laying his head next to yours, he whispers huskily into the shell of your ear before kissing it. “I don’t like it when Jimin kisses you.” You fight back the shudders creeping down your spine and the sudden calm air dissipates as your heart fights to stay neutral. You swear either the blood in your body has suddenly drained or Taehyung has rewired it and everything is flowing backwards. “Is that it?” you ask, avoiding his probing eyes. “You stayed up for that?”

Taehyung hovers over you again, trapping your head between his hands. The sexual tension sat uncomfortably in front of you, so tangible that you wanted to lean up and either kick it away or grab it. His hair tickled your forehead as he stared doe eyed and serious. “Yes.” he admits, “Jimin is my friend. You can’t date any of my friends.”

You laugh, “You’re friends with everyone Tae, thats hardly fair.” The butterflies in your lower stomach were stabbing holes as you watch his serious expression drip into his signature smile. Resting his head back down beside you, he smirks, “Exactly.” before falling happily back to sleep. The things he does to you. Taehyung was a mastermind at making your heart confused and as you hold him close, you wonder if maybe he was doing it on purpose because you were slowly and painfully doing what you thought you would never; you were falling for him. “Shit.”

They say that sometimes the eye of a hurricane is the safest place you can be. And as you watch time, opportunities, dreams and love zip all around you, you can’t help but feel a truth in the saying. And it scares you the most that a single movement could pull you out of comfort and rip you apart.

“What you thinking about?” you ask, nudging Taehyungs ribs. “Must be something serious from the look on your face.”

Taehyung groans loudly before throwing his head back against the couch pillows. “Nothing.” Crossing his arms over his chest, he stares up at the ceiling in complete concentration. Before heaving a sigh and whispering, “I don’t know what to do.”

You had been having these moments with him lately of complete utter silence. No words, no movement, just two people sitting side by side, thinking. The silence wasn’t always comfortable, sometimes it would feel eerie of emotion as if you could feel his feelings swirling in the air around you. He was so transparent to you now, that it almost felt strange to ask what was up, you could feel the tension hitting its peak and you knew he was going to confess.

“Well, just follow your heart then Taehyung.” you say, watching his tongue swipe over his bottom lip.

Taehyung drops any semblance of happiness before turning to face you. “And what if my heart is telling me to kiss you right now?”

The words fall out of his mouth so recklessly and so unsurprisingly that you don’t blink when you stare back. You almost looked unimpressed, but the feeling seemed so indubitably mutual that you felt as though the moment he presses his lips onto yours, the tension that seemed to accumulate in the house and in your bones would immediately dissipate.

“So what if I let you?” you whisper.

But there is something so unreal about being comfortable and okay with watching but never really having. With seeing these opportunities and never really having the motivation to seek them out because you’re happy and because the happiness you feel right now is good enough. Maybe you were better off in the middle of a hurricane, maybe you just weren’t equipped to take risks, or maybe …you just didn’t have enough of a reason to consider leaving the safety of your comfort in search for a greater purpose -in search of a greater happiness.

“I-I like you,” he stammers, shyly staring at the ground as he scrapes his shoes against the pavement in a nervous feat to avoid your gaze. “I beat up Jimin because he knows that I like you and I swear Y/N, he gets off to my jealousy.”

The sun peeks through the clouds as you laugh and your cheeks redden at the combination of Taehyung’s stare and the heat of summer. You hated summer. You hated it with a passion. Why Taehyung dragged you out of the house to take a walk didn’t make sense to you until this very moment. You laugh. “Y/N. I like you. I’m admitting it because I know you won’t remember. So Y/N, I like you and I have liked you since before I killed your sunflowers,” you mock, watching his face pale in cold hard realisation before you erupt in laughter. “I know you do. You should see your face Tae.”

He grabs your elbow, his eyes serious and expecting, “Wait, so does that mean you like me back?”

It wasn’t strange to think and feel this way, but it was strange that you never actively threw yourself into the flames, into the whirlwind or into the waves of the “what if”. But, you are now, and these thoughts, the scattering of little myriad dreams throughout the fields that floated in your skull and coursed through your veins. Made you aware that maybe you aren’t as happy as you think you are. That you aren’t as okay as you think you might be with staying stagnant and watching “what ifs” fly by. You were becoming ambitious again and greedy for more, you had a sunflower heart, earnest and searching for something more.

“Taehyung!” you yell, banging on the wall. “I’m trying to study. Turn it down or I’m coming over.”

“What was that Y/N?” he yells back before turning the sound up.

Taking off your reading glasses, you pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration before slamming down your pen and running out of your room to his. He was doing everything possible to annoy you for attention and this was the limit, you were done and you were going to beat him up. Reaching for the door handle, Taehyung rips it open on the other side instead and you fall into his arms. Not as gracefully as one would imagine as you slowly start to slip down his chest.

Everything happens too quickly for you to say anything because as soon as you’re on your knees in front of him groaning at the loud music, he has turned the music off, shut the door and turned off the lights. Picking you up, he throws you onto his bed and covers your body with the blankets before planting himself chest-to-chest.

“What the fuck Taehyung? I’m studying,” you yell, hitting his chest and untangling yourself from the sheets. “Seriously?”

“You don’t need to study, you’ve got this. You’re a smart girl.” he laughs, snuggling closer to kitten kiss your nose. “I’m giving you 5 seconds to back up your truck and let me out of here.” You say, gritting your teeth in anger. He nudges himself against you humming in content and when you get up to move, he lifts his leg over you, caging you against his body. To say you aren’t just pissed off would be an understatement, you’re fuming. “Stay with me tonight?” he says, “Just stay here, no more study. You need sleep.” You stare at him in bitter silence as he flutters his eyes closed in triumph. Lifting a foot over his, you hook it around his hips until you push yourself up to straddle his waist. Taehyung tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and his hands rest on the exposed skin of your waist as he watches you with lust-filled pupils through toenail clipping eyelids. You wonder where he thinks this is going.

“Study is my number one priority Taehyung,” you confidently remark. “I don’t have time to screw around.”

“Screw around?” he laughs before suddenly bucking his hips underneath you and you are unable to stop yourself when the half “oomph” and the half moan rips through your lips when you feel more man underneath you than you want to.

He’s smirking knowingly when he bucks his hips again, making you fall flat against his chest. “What do you think you’re doing? I have an exam tomorrow morning.”

He smiles at you as you push yourself back up. “I’m helping you relax.” His grip on your waist was tight but not tight enough; you were a professional at running away.

Your eyebrows cress with the playful challenge as you roll your hips not once but twice, against his.

His eyes widen in surprise and cheeks flush, he wasn’t expecting you to actually play along, and his hands loosen their hold enough for you to push yourself off the bed and rush out of his room.

He surprisingly doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, but you hear his moans bounce off the bathroom tiles as he showers away his problems, or problem.

And all you can do is laugh and thank the heavens that Taehyung didn’t ruin this final exam for you given his history with ruining final assessments.

You were standing on the state lines of an opportunity and a potentially great love story. You were standing in between him and the idea of chasing a dream. You couldn’t have both. You were standing before a crossroad, stuck between your heart and your future. And theres no where in your near future that would allow you to have both.

“Taehyung,” you pout, taking your shoes off and putting your slippers on. He had invited a couple friends over to watch a movie and from the looks on their faces, no, Taehyung hadn’t told them you lived together.

“Y/N,” Jimin gasps, dropping the bowl of popcorn. “What are you doing here? I thought you were at the library?”

You put your hands on your hips as you watch Taehyung scurry to avoid your eye contact. He still hadn’t told them that you lived together and your patience was wearing thin, you didn’t have a reason to stay so late at the library and Taehyung was making it difficult to lie. Rolling your eyes, you decide its time to tell, why get others to do things when you can get off your ass and do it yourself.

“We live to-

“Taehyung, why do you have so many girlie perfumes in your bathroom?” Ellie yells, interrupting you from the bathroom before walking passed you and slamming her body into the seat beside Taehyung’s. Whether she saw you or not is a mystery, but as you tell them that Taehyung invited you over and they believed you, you don’t miss the way she looks at you: p ointed and accusing.

Sitting on the other end of the couch, you take the opportunity when the others lean forward to stare bullets into his side profile. He must feel it because he turns to you, guilt and shame iron pressed to his face as Ellie tries to cuddle into his arm.

Nearing the end of the film, you roll your eyes at her, rest your head against the pillow and pretend to fall asleep.

“What a shit film,” Jimin snorts. “Hey Tae, I’m going to head off. I’ll wake Y/N up and see if she wants a lift.”

“No don’t!” Taehyung yells a little too quickly, ushering a sleepy Ellie off his arm. “She told me earlier that she’s crashing here on the couch. If you wake her up, I’ll have to deal with little miss grumpy for the rest of the night.”

“True, she can get monstrous sometimes.” Jimin laughs in agreeance. “Have fun with that.”

“You have no idea.” Taehyung whispers through gritted teeth. “I will.”

“Tae, can I stay over?” Ellie asks, her tone sultry and suggestive. You really hated this girl and not because you were jealous but because she seemed like a genuinely annoying person. You hoped that Taehyung would say no and kick her out, but you definitely did not expect his response.

“The couch is already taken.” he deadpans and you nearly snort laugh.

“No like,” she says, suddenly lowering her volume. “In your room.”

“That’s a bit selfish of you don’t you think? Then where would I sleep?”

You bite down on your tongue, afraid that the heaving of your chest from bottled laughter would give away the fact that you were very much awake and very much frustrated that she was still here.

“With me.” she laughs and the silence that suddenly fills the room, fills your body with unease.

“Gross, well that’s my queue to leave.” Jimin musters before literally running out the door. “Peace out fam.”

“Ellie, no. What happened between us last year was weird and uncomfortable for me. And plus, if you paid any attention you would’ve noticed that I don’t actually like you and that I like the girl asleep on my couch. If there’s anyone sleeping in my room tonight, it’s her. So if you could leave-

“Taehyung,” she interrupts, shrieking in disbelief. “You like her? over me? What for? I mean look at me and I’m such a nice person, like I’m so sweet and shes-”

“Oh my god, leave already.” you interrupt, not wanting to hear another second of her crow-like whining. Shifting on the couch to sit beside Taehyung, she stares at you bewilderedly like you just stole her favourite toy. “You can leave now, unless you want to stand in the corner with a video camera and watch us-

“Fine!” she yells, “Fine, I’ll go. Fucking hell, if you see me in public Kim Taehyung, don’t even say hi. Just watch the finest ass you’ll ever see walk away.” “Why watch a good ass walk away when I can stare at hers making me a cup of tea, really Ellie just leave please.” She rolls her eyes before stomping away and Taehyung hums contently as you both watch her leave. Turning to face him, he smiles at you before grabbing your cheeks, “Hey you, long time no see.” he whispers, his tone of voice over-dramatically affectionate.

“Hey you …you jerk,” you slap his hand away to grab him but he jumps off the sofa to run away. “When are you going to tell your friends that I live here?”

“When you tell me you like me too, then I will.” he yells, running around the dining room table as you chase him around the house.

No I love you or I like you’s had been exchanged in the year that had become your living situation, in the year that had become the fruitful exploration of your unlabelled relationship with him. As you entered your third year of college, although some part of you loved him and you knew that, the other part of you didn’t want to tell him that. Didn’t want him to know. Didn’t want to ruin it.

“Y/N, I can’t deal anymore. You must be so lonely.” Gabby says, rubbing your hand “comfortingly”.

“Well, I’m not.” you say, frowning into your textbook. “I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I’m happy.”

“Happy enough for this?” she says, pushing her laptop screen to your face. “I know that you wanted to go to Brown, this has your name written all over it girl.”

You sigh. “I’ve already read it but I don’t know.”

“What have you got to lose? You don’t have anything tying you down, it’s not like you have a boyfriend or a job.”

“True, but it’s just that …It means that I’ll have to move over there and then stay there for what, nearly two years to graduate when I could do it here?” you sigh, running your fingers through your hair. You were getting irritated with her prodding and the constant questions and the constant need to reply. “I’m gonna go look for a newer version of this textbook. I’ll be right back.” you say, grabbing the book as you get up to leave.

Dumping the textbook into a nearby trolley, you hide in the back aisles of the library to simply enjoy the quiet solitude of studiers and readers. Silence was golden and therapeutic and all you needed for atleast a minute or two.

Walking around the aisle, you spot the familiar build of your housemate, hunched over a table reading over music scores. He looked frustrated, understandably so, it’s not everyday you’re forced into a kind-of successful campus punk band. You were jealous of him. That he had something he loved more than you and was actually talented enough to be good at it.

Sneaking up behind him, you snake your arms around his waist and sweetly kiss his cheek. He immediately slumps back into you with a single deep breath, his shoulders slumping into you. You always loved him in ripped skinny jeans, but the comfortable shorts and the grey NYU hoodie he adorned today, made you want to cuddle him and hide your face in the fabric.

“You okay?” you ask, rubbing his belly.

Stroking your hand, he closes his eyes. “I will be. Are you okay?” he asks.

Letting him go, you sit in the vacant seat in front of his and he slumps over his work again. “I will be.” you say.

“Hmmm, touchè.” he smiles before returning his gaze to his papers, his pensive concentration face re-appearing across his gentle features.

“Touche” you whisper, watching the boy you had hardly seen these past couple of weeks hunched over work in earnest. It was nice to see him so passionate about his work and you’re not going to lie and say that it didn’t ignite a desire to be the same; because it did. He totally did.

You had a decision to make and whichever one you chose, love and lust or adventure and life, you knew you would regret it anyway. You would be stuck thinking of what could’ve been or maybe, what should’ve been. You couldn’t have both.

If you didn’t chose life, you knew that your heart would have trouble letting go of the idea. The pain would become so indescribably difficult to handle that it would physically break you and you would break him. But, if you chose him, the captor of your thoughts, the man with the smile that lit a thousand lightbulbs but one, you wouldn’t be as happy and you knew that.

The answer was plainly obvious. It stood in front of you with a cheshire grin and a baritone laugh, but those didn’t belong to Taehyung. Your housemate and platonic bed sharer with a happy morning grin, and an obsession with cuddling and kitten kisses.

No, it wasn’t Taehyung.

Mr Jones yells loudly before slapping a pile of information folders on the table in front of the class. “Alright class, before I excuse you all. I need to mention that we still have spots for the exchange to Brown, in fact all of the seats. It’s the first time a community college has ever partnered up with an elite, so if you all are excited by the prospect of employment in this scarce and scary world, do yourself a favour and sign up before it’s too late. Class dismissed.”

Again, you sit back and watch the class filter out. The neglected folders sat gracefully taunting you, as their tantalising words of hope and adventure called out to you.

This was it.

And fuck it, you were going to do it.

Running your hands down your thighs, you watch Mr. Jones talk to a couple of students inquiring about exam results before slowly walking down the steps towards him. He notices your hesitance to approach and laughs at your shyness as the other students walk away.

“Our resident sleeper Y/N.” he snorts, crossing his arms over his chest. “What do I owe the pleasure?”

You frown at the nickname because you’ve never fallen asleep in his classes, before shaking your head and pushing the insult over your shoulder. You didn’t sleep in his classes, you didn’t even blink in fear of being a target for his relentless questioning, but considering you day dreamed in most of his lectures, you might as well have been.

“Sir, I-I want to-

“You want to sign up for the exchange?” he interrupts. Truth be told, he made you nervous. He was intimidating and his eccentric clothing made you uncomfortable. His satire humour colour co-ordinated with the devil music notes on his tie and the red t-shirt you were pretty sure was on backwards.

“Do I have an actual contender for this project!?” he yells excitedly before rushing over to the folders. Placing a folder into your open arms, he says. “Look, all you need to do is read this folder and if you decide it’s for you. Come back and sign it.”

Looking at the folder, you take a deep breath. You’ve thought about it enough and Fuck it. “Can I sign it now?”

“You want to actually do it?” he gasps, clapping his hands together. “Oh my Aunty Barbara, the dean is not going to believe this one. If you are serious about this Y/N, you can come with me now to her office and we can discuss your options. Since you’re unfortunately the only contender for this project, heaven forbid me for actually asking why my students don’t want employment, we could potentially solidify a scholarship for you.”

Without a single protest, you smile and nod your head in a frantic attempt to communicate your agreeance. He smiles down at you and prods you to follow. “That’s the spirit. Always knew you were a fighter. You’ve made a courageous decision, I commend that.”

You follow him through the busy hallways, hugging the folder close to your chest. Students bow politely to him as they pass, and you smile when you see Taehyung and his group of friends. Taehyung winks at you as he leans against the wall to check you out and you grin back, scuttling behind Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones opens the deans door and ushers you in, and as you turn nervously to watch him close the door behind you, you start to slowly feel it rise over the rocky terrains in your mind and light all of your lightbulbs.

A passion,

and although the middle of a hurricane can be the safest place to be, you were happy that you were no longer watching things fly by, and amazed how confident you were grabbing the opportunity by its cuff and information folder before it does.

“How was class today? I saw you walking hand-in-hand with Mr. Jones today. You get in trouble or something?” Taehyung whispers against your shoulder.

You were watching a movie, blankets and pillows, chocolate and popcorn. Taehyung was beside you, content and happy with his fair share of the blanket and Mia was sitting on the floor painting her nails. She called it family night, you called it a nuisance.

“No. No I wasn’t in trouble. I just had to talk to him about something,” you say, slapping his thigh. “I’m too boring to get into trouble.”

“You can say that again,” Mia laughs, throwing a piece of popcorn in your hair. You turn to her and frown before watching the creases in her face even out. Placing the nail polish on the coffee table, she pauses the movie and faces you, eager but nervous.

“I have something to tell you guys. I’m moving in with Jin. We’ve decided to settle down.”

“What?” you yell. “What the f-

“Woohooo,” Taehyung giggles, lifting his head off your shoulder. “We can be alone now Y/N. You know what that means? No pants all day, everyday.”

“What about me?” you ask, ignoring Taehyung and frowning at her indecency to tell you sooner. She smiles at you before grabbing your hand, “You’ll be fine. You and me forever baby, just not under the same roof-

“Well that’s just perfect because I also have something to say.” you interrupt, wanted to one up her, suddenly bursting at the seems to tell them both that you were leaving.

“What is it?” Taehyung says, hooking his arm around yours. “Mmm?”

“I’m going to Brown,” you confess,“I got into the exchange programme there and I’m going this summer.”

You feel Taehyung stiffen against you before he pulls you to face him, “What?” he asks, his voice uncharacteristically quiet and gentle.

“I’m going to Brown. I’m leaving Taehyung.” you say.

“Well that’s okay, you’ll be coming back when the semester finishes. Gosh, you nearly scared me there, I thought you were going to tell me you were pregnant. My testical nearly fell off.” he sighs in relief, relaxing back against you.

You take a deep breath because you know what you’re about to say will hurt him, you know it will break at least one of you and you know that as soon as you say it, everything changes from here on out, and you do it anyway.

“It won’t be months Tae. It will be years.”

And there was nothing he could say to make you stay, he wanted the best for you and the thought made him sad but the best wasn’t him, the best was a state away.

He slowly unhooks his arm from yours and leans back against the couch. Mia sits by your legs tapping your knee, seemingly perplexed but not enough to say anything. She knew that nothing she could say would ever make you change your mind.

And as the room drowns in an uncomfortable silence, the red wires in your heart become untangled and focused on the direction you were heading, but they just weren’t towards him and that was okay.

{Shamelessly} Taehyung’s Point of View Conclusion

Pacing back in forth in the empty lecture theatre, I bite my bottom lip. Namjoon and I didn’t tell anyone what we were doing or where we were, in fear that we might just not be as good as we think we are. That we might not get in. After seeing you off, suitcase and all, and accepting that you were gone, my game plan was set in motion; we were going to get signed.

It hasn’t been the first time an entertainment company has decided to roll into my college looking for trainees, but it’s been the only one interesting enough to audition for, and for the first time in along time, I felt nervous for my future.

I worked hard for this though, endless nights leaked into annoying mornings at the library writing and memorizing music. I deserve this.

“The audition results should be up by now right? Where the fuck is Namjoon?”

Sitting in a seat, I sprawl my arm across the desk and look towards the sunlight peaking through the dark clouds. Snow had collected on the windows and the turbulent weather was beginning to drown the aisles of desks in an eerie darkness.

The room was frosty cold, but the giant beige lapel coat around me and the black scarf that smelt like her, kept my body warm.

I wonder if she’s warm.

I think about her too much to consider it normal. She was always there, her little smiles and her big frowns, the way she curled herself against my chest and the way she runs her fingers through my hair when she thinks I’m asleep.

But she’s gone now and I need to stop torturing myself.

She was who I imagined singing to in that audition room. The intimidating group of judges sitting in the audience were replaced by her radiant supportive smile as I sang my feelings out.

She made my home something I wanted to come back to.

And I didn’t want to go home anymore.

“Taehyung!” Namjoon yells, barreling through the doors. He didn’t need to say it, his smile said it all. “WE MADE IT!” he screams, pulling you into a hug. “We both made it!”

“I need to call my mum, she’s going to freak out!” he laughs, pulling away. “Who you going to call first?” he asks as he scrolls through his phone.

Pulling out my phone, I scroll through my list of contacts to find yours, but my finger hovers over the call button as I stare at your contact ID a second too long and I don’t.

I had forgotten to change your contact picture and it was a picture of you curled up in blankets sitting by the fireplace reading a book. If you knew I took that picture, you’d probably kill me. It was the little things like this that I loved so much. I wanted to keep these moments to myself because the thought of Jimin or anyone else ever seeing the side of you that I admired so much, made me jealous and made me feel so possessive that I didn’t tell anyone about you or that I nearly didn’t attend this audition with Namjoon because I knew that it meant I would have to leave you one day.

But you left me first and that’s okay.

I liked a girl who was always looking in the other direction, like a sunflower chasing the sun. I tried to believe that she wasn’t looking at me because she was out of my league, I tried I did, but my heart knew that it wasn’t because I’m not the light she wants, it’s because I’m not the light she needs.

And more importantly, I suppose it’s because we just weren’t meant to be together, maybe in the future sure, but now? no. The timing was horrible, so unequivocally horrible, but I hold hope that one day if we meet as different people I will have the courage to tell her how I really feel and then maybe,

just maybe, I’ll be the sun that she wants and I will be the sun that she needs.

Epilogue

“Y/N, it was lovely catching up with you again. You’ve blossomed into such a lovely woman!” Jimin says, loosening his suit tie. Jimin was a corporate soldier of an entertainment company now and had spent the afternoon filling you in on the happenings around town since you moved away. You admittedly struggled to keep his close friendship, but his friendship you kept nonetheless. You were back for good and Jimin was happy to welcome you back so long as you paid for lunch. “Oh yeah, have you seen Taehyung lately? I heard he’s back around too.”

You smile.

“Not yet.” you say, lifting your wrist to check the time. “Soon though.”

“You know, we all knew you two were a thing in college. Just didn’t think it would’ve ended up the way that it did but I’m proud you two followed your dreams. I can’t wait to meet your boyfriend though, he sounds like a catch.”

You laugh.

“Thanks Jimin, it means a lot to hear that from you.” you say, watching him walk backwards towards his car. “My boyfriend isn’t that much of a catch, he’s very annoying and not as cool as you.”

“You’re probably right! Hey we need to get together for like a college reunion or something. Minus Mia and Jin of course, I can’t get over how fat your sister is. How do twins…” he gestures towards your stomach. “Fit in there?”

“How does a brain…” Pointing up to his head you joke. “Fit in there?”

He laughs loudly before smacking your hand away. “It’s been five years and you’re still so cold to me. Aish, somethings never change.”

“Maybe you’re right but my heart has definitely turned over, I’m just really glad I left, but I’m back now so expect my relentless insults. It’s the only way I can communicate my love for you in a way that won’t upset my boyfriend.”

“That’s fine with me Y/N. I’ll text you later.” he says, smiling his million dollar smile.

“You’re always welcome in my home Jimin, so if you ever need a place to crash, you know my number.” is all you say before he waves goodbye excitingly with his briefcase and getting into his company car and driving away. You watch the red lights of his car fade into the distance.

Everything felt right.

Every light bulb was on.

Everything was where it was supposed to be.

Punching in your apartment code, you take off your heels and put on your slippers. “Hmmm, what’s the amazing smell hun?” you ask, putting your handbag on the vanity by the door.

He runs around the kitchen island with a cheshire grin and a baritone laugh. The sweet sound of happiness and coming home to it made your heart sing, made your heart race and made your heart ..flip because that’s not a nice smell to come home to no matter how hard he tried to woo you.

“I burnt the potatoes, but I ordered pizza, extra pineapple on yours too, so we should be fine for dinner.” he smiles, wrapping his arms around your waist to welcome you home.

“Oh thank god.” You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. Leaning on your tippy toes, you give him a quick kiss on the lips before muttering, “But did you turn the potatoes off?”

He looks down at you with a vacant expression and you look up at him expectantly. Surely he remembered to turn them off, surely. The smoke alarms go off before he gets to explain that no, he completely forgot and just ordered pizza instead.

You laugh again before swatting him away to turn the smoke alarm and stove top off. Opening the lounge windows to let smoke out, you admire the sun as it descends behind the hills, nothing was more beautiful.

“Y/N.” he whines standing behind you. “What are you looking at?”

Turning to face him, you lean against the window sill and grin. You lied, nothing was more beautiful than him. “Nothing, just the sunset.”

He stands closer and kisses your forehead before turning you to face the sunset again, “Of course you were, my sunflower girl.”

You loved him. You loved Kim Taehyung.

So the idea of this fic spawned from the idea that sunflowers chase the sun -obviously. I liked the idea that sunflowers grow inside of us, we all have sunflower hearts; ambitious and greedy, and although this was a fluff series, I didn’t want Y/N to end up with Taehyung. Mainly because she worked so hard and ending up settling with second best, I didn’t want that for her, I wanted her to become comfortable with the idea that sometimes you need to feel like shit, sometimes things are supposed to fall through, sometimes we are supposed to love the people we do just to become the people we are destined to be or go. And more importantly, that there is more to life than a relationship. Happiness comes from you first before you can find it in other people, so maybe in another life or in the future, they will find happiness in each other as well.

#bts fanfic #bts #bts imagines #bts angst #bts fuff #bts taehyung #bts v #bangtan imagines #bangtan scenarios #bts roommate #bts college #bts romance

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