#it's almost 2:30am where i live
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
The Intern
With the alliance between the Autobot's and the U.S government straining by the day, clearly something needed to be done to restore faith and trust- despite the classified operations of N.E.S.T successfully defeating the Decepticons over two years ago. Therefore, Major Lennox and his commanding officers created TTF- Transformers Talent Forge. An internship offered to only the most skilled and promising personnel within the U.S Defence Force , providing an opportunity of a lifetime to work side-by-side with N.E.S.T and the Autobots...
Content: Mild Coarse Language. Events takes place in 'Transformers- Revenge of the Fallen.' Autobot/Ratchet x F/Human reader. Reader Insert.
Intern Series- Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Word Count- 3,500K
N.E.S.T- Diego Garcia. 8:30am
"Come on, Private! Keep up!"
"Ye-Yes, sir." Snapping out of your daydream gaze, running after your lieutenant.
Pulling the strap of your military duffle bag a little more over your shoulder. Trying not to stare at the sights and sounds that surrounded you in the hangar, as you followed Lieutenant Smith's footsteps. Roughed up concrete lined the floors, only the unpredictable pattern of tyre marks 'decorated' what once was a smooth surface.
Various military personnel roaming around tables and various stations filled with all sorts of gizmos, gadgets and computer systems lined either side of the hangar. Creating an almost 'catwalk' like feel for the concrete flooring which ran through the middle.
"Alright, so this is where we communicate with the JCS. And this area serves as the Autobots' hangar."
Your curious gaze wandered over the various vehicles which was casually parked on the left side of the hangar.
"The living quarters are to your right. Third door down. But once introduced to our Major, you'll be debriefed further and provided a map- this place is like a maze. I don't know what it's like where you're from Private, but here. Every day's different. So learn quick and learn fast." Lieutenant Smith slowly halted, facing you with a smile. "But don't think you'll be going through this alone. You're among family now-"
"Excuse me!" a commanding tone filled the hangar, drawing your attention to the scaffolding-like structure which stood in the centre of the military space. Lining up perfectly with the concrete 'catwalk.'
"And just like any other family household, we occasionally have our fair share of rodents." Lieutenant Smith whispered into your ear, causing a smile to tease the corner of your lips.
Complete awe flashed across your features, eyes widen as your gaze soaked in the sight before you.
H-Holy shit... that's Optimus Prime!
"With this so-called AllSpark now destroyed, why hasn't the enemy left the planet like you thought they would?" Director Galloway questioned the Autobot. His voice holding a firm tone, as he adjusted his glasses once coming to the landing of the scaffolding-like structure. Which brought him and other military personnel more to Optimus' height.
"Forgive the interruption, General." Galloway's scowl expression faced the monitor before him. Seeming not to care that he was talking directly to the Pentagon, "but after all the damage in Shanghai, the President is... hard-pressed to say the job's getting done. Now... under the classified Alien/Autobot Cooperation Act, you agreed to share your intel with us, but not your advancements in weaponry.-"
"We've witnessed your human capacity for war." Optimus' smooth yet authudicating tone rumbled throughout the hangar, his words almost holding a sharp edge. "It would absolutely bring more harm than good-"
"But who are you to judge what's best for us?-"
"With all due respect, we've been fighting side by side in the field for two years!" A small chuckle came to you, as Major Lennox's familiar tone came to your ears.
"We've shed blood, sweat and precious metal together!" Lieutenant Smith called out.
"Soldier! You're paid to shoot. Not talk."
Lieutenant Smith rolled his eyes at Galloway's snarky comment. His unamused expression turning to you as he whispered, "don't tempt me."
"And the... newest members of your team. I understand they arrived here after you sent a message into space, an open invitation! Come to Earth! Vetted by no one at the White House!-"
"Let me stop you right there, Mr. Galloway. It was vetted right here." A voice from the Pentagon crackled through the monitor. "And in my experience, the judgment of both Major Lennox and his team, has always... been above reproach-"
"Well... be that as it may, General. It is the position of the President when our national security is at stake... no one... is above reproach." Galloway turned his attention back onto Prime. "Now... what do we know so far? We know that the enemy leader, classified NBE One, aka, Megatron. Is rusting in peace at the bottom of the Laurentian Abyssal, surrounded by SOSUS detection nets and a full-time submarine surveillance."
"We also know that the only remaining piece of your alien AllSpark is locked in an electromagnetic vault. Here on one of the most secure naval bases in the world! And since no one can seem to tell me what the enemy is now after, well.. there's only clear conclusion!... You! The Autobots!" Galloway's glare narrowed. "They're here to hunt you!"
You begun to slowly shift your weight from one foot to the other. The smile fading upon your lips as the atmosphere within the hangar begun to grow tense.
"What's there to hunt for on Earth besides that? 'The Fallen shall rise again'?... It sounds to me like something's coming. So... let me ask, if we... ultimately conclude that our national security is best served by denying you further asylum on our planet. Will you leave... peacefully?"
All eyes turned on Optimus. The tension grew thicker. You could almost hear everyone hold their breaths as all hung onto his answer.
"Freedom is your right. If you make that request, we will honor it. But... Before your President decides, please ask him this... What if we leave and you're wrong?"
A heavy sigh escaped your lips. Why do I have a feeling that I've came at a bad time?...
Optimus straightened his posture as Lennox ran a hand through his short, brunette hair. "That's a good question-"
"Major! The intern is here!" Lieutenant Smith shouted from the ground. A small smirk teasing his lips, knowing his voice briefly deafened Mr Galloway while he awkwardly climbed the steps down.
"Here... let me take your things." You looked at the lieutenant, holding out his hand. Simply gesturing towards the scaffolding stairs with a slight nod. "You'll be fine."
Taking a couple of deep breaths before handing over your duffle bag, your heart slightly picking up pace as you climbed the stairs. Flashing the soldiers a weak smile, as their curious gazes turned away from their monitors and onto you.
"So, is it every day that the government comes round to bite your asses?" your cocky tone slightly eased the tension in the air. Greeting Lennox with a salute as his soft gaze fell onto you, a relieved smile teasing his lips.
"At ease, Private. No need to be so formal... nah, they don't come by often. But when they do, it's just my ass that gets bitten." A small chuckle left Lennox as he embraced you with a warm, tight hug. "Ah Valkyrie... it's been so long. How you've been? Keeping out of trouble?"
"You know me, Lennox." You looked up at him with a warm smile, slowly breaking away from his embrace. "Trouble just seems to follow wherever I go. Speaking of which... things gotta be bad for you to pull some strings to get my name picked."
A nervous chuckle escaped his lips, lowering his voice to just above a whisper as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "You have no idea." Guiding you a little closer to railings, Lennox cleared his throat and gestured to the Autobot. "Allow me to introduce you to the leader of the Autobots, Optimus Prime. Prime... this is Private Y/N, aka 'Valkyrie.' She's the intern I've personally chosen for Ratchet."
Swallowing your nerves, your heart fluttered a little as Prime's stern gaze softened. A welcoming smile spreading across his face plates as his blue optics settled upon you.
"A-A pleasure to meet you, sir."
"The pleasure is all mine." His smooth, calm tone melted your nerves. Causing a sweet smile to tug at your lips, "I've heard a great deal of good things about you from Major Lennox. He said you're quite an experienced medic, and had been... trained specifically for field duty, correct?"
"Correct. I've been serving the U.S military for three years. My experience varies on and off the field."
Optimus nodded in approval, a glimmer of hope flickered within his optics. "Regarding your earlier observation, I won't lie that things have been... difficult here. My medical officer, Ratchet has been... having issues with the interns assigned to him." Exhaustion crept into his words, rubbing his temples. "He's... not exactly impressed with them, and it's gotten your superiors... annoyed to say the least."
Lennox gave you a weak smile, "and... I figured, if anyone could work with Ratchet, despite his... rough edges, it's you. You're one of the best damn medics I've ever fought alongside with! And you know I've seen my fair share of skilled personnel during my career."
Your curious gaze flickered between the two, " so basically... you picked me because the Autobot keeps kicking out his inexperienced interns... how long have they lasted?"
Optimus and Lennox hesitated for moment, giving each other nervous glances before the major finally spoke up. "The longest was a week... the shortest was two hours."
"What?-"
"He's just... very strict with his demands. But you out of anyone would understand how a unit are highly dependent on the medical expertise of their medic!" Lennox gave your shoulder a comforting pat, "you've got what it takes, you've been out there! And to be fair it's not just him. The previous interns were... problematic too- but! I have full faith in you!-"
"Behind Ratchet's gruff exterior and sarcastic tone, lies a soft spark and a bot who genuinely cares for his team." Optimus assured, "you just... need to chip away at his concrete walls. Are you... familiar with Cybertronian biology? Or at least came up close to our kind?"
"Unfortunately... no. But that's why I'm here, to learn and become apart of this team." A small smirk teased the corners of your lips. "But as for getting 'up close' to your kind... does shooting a Decepticon in the face count?"
Optimus coughed out a chuckle, the air almost getting stuck within his vocal processor while Lennox tried to hide his smirk.
"Well... I suppose I should introduce you to Ratchet." Lennox spoke, finally clearing his throat and composing himself.
Optimus simply nodded, giving the pair of you a warm smile as Lennox gently guided you away from the railings and back towards the stairs of the scaffolding.
---
Approaching the neighboring hangar, which was surprisingly on the smaller side than the previous. Lennox paused before opening the medbay doors, giving you a slight glance over his shoulder. "You... might wanna wait out here for a minute. Ratchet... hates surprises."
"He's that bad, huh?" crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow.
"No. No, it's just..." a heavy sigh left Lennox. "The... 'higher ups' are constantly breathing down my neck and second guessing our whole operation- not just N.E.S.T, but the internship too. Surely you heard Galloways bullshit."
"I did... but I won't add further stress by poking and prodding you for information about what's going on. I'm sure I'll figure it out."
Lennox gave you a weak, appreciative smile before entering the medbay, leaving you outside as you subtlety peeked your head around the corner of the large door frame.
"What have you done this time, Ironhide?" the major attempted to keep his casual tone, as his footsteps echoed upon the tire-marked concrete flooring.
"Blasted Decepticon punk got a lucky shot at me!" Ironhide snarled as he man-handled the large cannon that refused to retract back into his forearm. An annoyed expression flashing across Ironhide's face plate while sitting at Ratchet's peds, a small huff escaping him as the medic pushed his servo away.
"That's what you get for being reckless during the mission." Lennox took a deep breath before turning his attention onto the Autobot medic. "Ratchet... I have someone important that I'd like you to meet."
The yellow and red Autobots' annoyed glare briefly flickered towards Lennox, before turning back to Ironhide's arm. "And who, exactly, do I need to meet right now?"
Lennox hesitated for a moment. "Your... new intern..."
Ratchet immedictly paused, his glare narrowing onto the major. "What?! You know I-" a heavy sigh escaped the medic as he stopped himself from arguing. Closing his optics tightly while pinching the bridge of his nose, "... who is it?"
"Private Y/N but she mainly goes by the nickname, 'Valkyrie.' She's a personal friend of mine- we fought alongside together back in my old unit during her first two years of service. You'll like her."
For the love of Primus, please tell me that this some sort of joke. Ratchet's servo ran down his face plate, Lennox's unfaltering expression caused the Autobot to let out a frustrated sigh. Great... another intern to get in my way. Just what I need! "... bring her in then."
Lennox briefly glanced at you over his shoulder, his hand giving a small gesture behind his back.
Taking a deep breath and composing yourself for a moment, before entering the medbay. Greeting both Autobot's with a professional smile, saluting once you reached Lennox's side. "Pleasure to meet you, Medical Officer Ratchet, sir. I'm looking forward to working with you."
Ratchet's skeptic expression slowly melted away, as his optics soaked in your appearance. Your polite yet professional tone made his shoulders relax, your body language and how your military uniform framed your toned and confident physic, grapsed Ratchet's attention. The suttle scars upon your skin was Lennox's proof that you were indeed experienced within the field.
She's certainly not giving me a awkward smile, or hiding behind Lennox. Perhaps... she's not gonna be as bad as the others.
"Likewise... Valkyrie... Welcome."
A low purr emerged from Ironhide's engine, as his optics roamed over your relaxed frame. His voice just above a whisper, "oh... she is a babe- ah!"
Annoyance flashed across Ratchet's optics, his gaze narrowed onto Ironhide as he whacked the weapons' specialist upside upon his helm. The medic's free servo clutched onto Ironhide's forearm tighter than necessary, causing the gun-metal coloured Autobot to wince in pain.
"Anyway..." attempting to ignore your confused expression, Ratchet's attention returned to Ironhide's arm. Picking up one of his tools from a nearby table, and adjusting a bolt within his comrade's inner circuits, "I assume Lennox has debriefed you..."
"Only that I'll be working alongside you. Learning and understanding what it's going to take to patch up you Autobots."
I suppose that's a good starting point. "You're going to be helping me in the medbay, yes. Though for your first day, today I'll just get you to learn basic Cybertronian anatomy. And depending on how the day goes, I might get you to watch how I treat the common injuries we get." Ratchet's optics briefly flickered at you, "and I mean, just watching. Don't try anything unless I say so. I've... had some rather eager interns in the past that didn't know how to stay put."
You gave the Autobot a firm nod, "understood. I know how annoying it can be, when someone's trying to stick their nose into your work."
A small, suttle sigh of relief escaped Lennox as he witnessed Ratchet's expression becoming more... neutral. A genuine smile teased the corners of the medic's lips, his optics softening. Fucking finally...
"Well... I'll leave you two, to it." Lennox whispered, patting you on the back. And giving Ratchet a 'I-told-you-so' smile, before leaving the medbay.
"I believe Lieutenant Smith placed your belongings on a desk over there." Ratchet gestured towards a stainless steel desk, it's 'human size' looked almost like dollhouse furniture, compared to the hologram monitors and workspaces that was more to Ratchet's height. Your duffle bag almost drowned under the piles of folders and paperwork, "apologies for the mess. But... feel free to settle in. Once I'm done with Ironhide, we'll start your training."
You briefly gave him a sweet smile, before approaching the desk which was somewhat tucked neatly away in the corner close to you. Ratchet continued fixing and adjusting the stuck cog within Ironhide's forearm, the gun-metal Autobot wincing as his cannon finally retracted.
"Hm... Perhaps your interns should of been femmes from the start- ah!-"
Ratchet's glare bore into his comrade's optics, a low snarl rumbling in the back his vocal processor. As the medic's grip upon Ironhide's forearm tightened, scratching his paint, "shut. It!"
The weapon's specialist pulled his limb away, but his teasing smirk never leaving his lips. His flirtatious gaze lingering on you for a brief moment before turning away, and finally leaving the medbay.
A heavy sigh left Ratchet as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Taking a moment to compose himself before looking at you, only to raise an optic ridge. Annoyance should of bubbled within his chassis, as his gaze watched you organize the mess upon the human-sized desk. Taking a brief glance into the files, before you placed them in their respected piles.
Instead, curiosity peaked his interest as you seemed become distracted by a particular folder within your hands. Ratchet's spark subtly pulsed a little quicker, as his optics soaked in your focused expression. It was as though he seemed to... admire your interest...
"That folder you have there... might be classified."
"Oh!" quickly snapping the folder shut, surprise slightly flickering across your features as your wide eyes witnessed the medic kneel towards you. The realization of the size difference between you becoming more obvious than before, "sorry. I was... just curious... about Megatron."
"I... understand your curiosity. But those papers relating to Megatron are restricted for a reason." His firm tone matched his body language, holding out a servo towards you.
Only for a mixture of appreciation and surprise flicker within his optics, when your soft gaze looked up at him. A sweet apologetic smile spreading across your lips, as you held out the folder towards him. The object looking comedicly out of place within the palm of his servo. She... didn't argue or protest? Just... accepted the restricted access...
"He seemed like one tough son-of-a-bitch."
A small hint of concern eased into you, as Ratchet's servo curled into a tight fist.
"You... could say that." Ratchet's tone slowly changed back to his gruff demeanor, but his words held a sharp edge. "He was one cruel and sadistic bastard. He and the Decepticons would stoop down to any level! Even if that level is tearing out the still beating spark of their foe!"
Sympathy and concern softened your features. The hidden memories reckoning within his words, tugged upon your heart strings.
"I've... had my fair share of encounters with him. Almost came close to... deactivation more than once because of him."
A small moment of hesitation stole your voice before you could squeak out your question. "De...activation...?"
A heavy sigh escaped Ratchet, as his optics briefly looked away from you. It's probably best if she hears it from me, than the others. "In 'our' terms... it basically means death. I've... came very close to it by Megatron's hands."
Ratchet's spark fluttered as you placed a hand over his closed digits. Your gentle touch sending warmth throughout his frame, causing his shoulders to relax. A stuttle heat slowly spread across his faceplate, as his processors burned your sweet, comforting smile deep into his memory core. Why... does she make me feel... so-
"Badass ice-cream truck coming through!-"
"Excuse me. Excuse me!-"
A small yelp of surprise escaped you, as two playful voices suddenly disturbed the air as a 1930's Chevrolet truck came into view. The pink and white paint almost completely faded away, only to be overtaken by dirt and rust.
The back of your legs pushed up against the stainless steel desk, as you leaned backwards. Confusion washed away your previous expression, as the voice's came from the singular vehicle. Ratchet closed his optics as annoyce begun to bubble back up within him.
"That... would be Skids and Mudflap..." the medic sighed.
Your confused yet curious gaze followed the 1930's ice-cream truck roam around the other side of the medbay hangar, leaving new tire-marks upon the concrete flooring as it circled two Mini Coopers. The red and green colours shining like new, polished metal compared to the truck.
"Hold up-"
"Those are nice. Yeah baby, it's upgrade time-"
"Yeah, sir yeah! Look here, it's my booty call right here!"
You looked at Ratchet with a puzzled expression. Giving the medic a silent question as he rubbed his temples, do they... even know what a 'booty call' is...?
The sound of turning cogs, whirling gears and shifting positions filled the air, making your eyes widen as the truck separated into two small Autobots. Possibly coming to Ratchet's waist if they stood next to his 20ft frame.
"Time to get my sexy on with the green-"
"Green? No, the green's mine! I call green!-"
You quickly reached for Ratchet's servo, your touch barely covering the tip of his digit, as the medic remained knelt beside you like a protective giant. A small gasp escaped your lips as Skids tackled Mudflap to the ground, causing violent vibrations to echo throughout the hangar and beneath your feet. You winced at the sound of metal clashing against metal, as the twins fists collided. Another vibration echoed through floor, like a ripple through water, as Skids grabbed his brother into a headlock, flipping the younger Autobot over his frame and forcing Mudflap onto his back.
"I got the green!-"
"That hurts man!-"
"It's supposed to hurt. It's an ass-kicking!"
Another heavy sigh escaped Ratchet as he tried to compose himself, still rubbing his temples while his free servo still welcomed your soft touch. For Primus sake...
#x reader#gardens light#fanfiction#fanfic writing#bayverse x reader#transformers x reader#transformers fanfiction#bayverse transformers#autobots x reader#x y/n#autobot ratchet x reader#ratchet x reader#bayverse ratchet#autobot ratchet
109 notes
·
View notes
Note
can you please do a mike schmidt smut, where he comes home from work and he’s in a bad mood and innocent!reader doesn’t understand he’s in a bad mood and she does something and it makes him mad and he fucks her with no mercy in the living room? is it’s okay if your comfortable doing this it is a little much
Um hello? This prompt is AMAZING?!?🫢
It was around 6:30am when Mike finally arrived home. You hadn’t noticed him come into the house until the loud clanking of glasses and the kitchen sink faucet running. Thankfully, Abby wasn’t home to be woken up by his ruckus.
You sat up in his bed, and pulled down your tank top and made your way towards the kitchen. When you turned the corner, you saw Mike leaning on the sink with a glass of water in his hand. Mike must of heard your quiet steps towards the kitchen, because he inhaled and turned his head a bit, eyeing you down.
“Hi.” You softly said, throat a bit sore from the dry air. He didn’t respond, but lift his hand and gave you a quick wave, not looking at you anymore. He dropped his hand harshly back onto the sink’s rim.
“Are you okay?” You were now standing about 2 feet away from him.
“Yep.” He quickly said, taking another sip of his glass. You noticed the grip he had on the cup was tight, it looked like he was about to break it.
“Y’sure?” You took a baby step closer to him, not wanting to bother him too much since he is tired.
“I said I was fine.” He now was looking at you, head fully turned to your barely clothed frame. You were wearing a tank top, panties, and soft fuzzy socks, since his house got cold at night.
His face flushed red, and he turned his head back, facing away from you and drinking the last of his water.
“You don’t seem fi-“
“Can you just back off?” He dropped the glass in the sink and turned towards you with his hands emphasizing his seriousness.
“I just want to know if your okay!” You step closer to him, trying to grab his hand but he grabbed your neck first.
“Don’t know how to take a hint?” His face was now dangerously close to yours, and you felt extremely helpless in this situation.
“I-I just wanted to see if I could help you feel better!” You whined, grabbing his wrist as his fingers squeezed the sides of your neck, not choking you, but damn near.
He then practically dragged you into the living room, and pushing you hard onto the couch.
“Fucking bitch. Never knows when to stop and leave me alone.” He pulled your legs and propped your lower half onto the couch’s arm. He pulled down your panties and threw them somewhere near the tv.
“Listen, y/n. I’m going to fuck you and your going to take it. If you truly want to help me, you will be a good girl, and let me use you, okay?” He asked, waiting for an answer.
“Okay.” You softly said, ready for him to use you, because you don’t want him to be mad anymore.
“Okay. Thank you, baby.” He said, pushing in. No matter how mad Mike is, he’ll never not be a good boyfriend, he won’t ever be mean to you for too long, because he can’t go too long without praising you in any way, just the guy he is.
You let out a whine as he slowly pounded into you harder and faster.
“Aha!” You arch your back, and he grabs your neck to hold you down.
He used his other hand to hold your waist and pull you towards him so he can reach deeper into you. You cry out in pleasure, as your sweet release was creeping closer and closer.
“Mike!” You cry out to him as you came on his dick.
“Ahh- fuck baby, so good!” He huffed as he started pounding harder and harder, making you scream.
“Mike!” You try to push him away, by scooting away from his thrusts. Like always he just pulls you back and holds onto your hips tighter.
“Almost there baby, I’m almost there.” The arm chair was starting to hurt as your body was constantly rubbing against it. But, despite the overstimulating pain, your were on cloud 10, Mike, thankfully had a good amount of stamina to make you come a couple of times, and so you soon reached your second release, and that threw Mike off.
“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that baby. Fuck!” He pounder even harder as he came inside of you, milking his cock dry. He pumped into you a couple more times, until he finally pulled out, and let your body rest.
He had taken a good look at you, and laughed, proud of what he did, but also grateful.
He had gotten a warm rag, and cleaned you up well, like always. He put on your favorite channel on the tv, and gotten you blankets. He too soon joining you on the couch, no longer in a bad mood.
SORRY FOR NOT POSTING THIS FOR A WHILE!! I liked this prompt too much, but I wasn’t like able to like… think? Like it was in my head but nothing was coming out💀 hopefully I at this up because I don’t think I did especially for how long I worked on this small piece, but LUV YOU🫶🏾🫶🏾😻
356 notes
·
View notes
Text
It’s 3:30am but I have another rant idea. As a writer myself, when I go into fiction I tend to ask why a lot. Like, what importance does this scene have, why did this event happen and how did it affect the characters. Writing isn’t real life, and every event HAS purpose, and that to me is fun to analyze ^^
So anyway
Overthinking the purpose of the different character deaths in Red Dead Redemption 2
I know I’ve talked about spoilers a fair bit without warning, but I’m not holding any punches, so
SPOILER WARNING!!
Get ready for a long rant folks, and apologies for any spelling errors I missed,
First and foremost, rdr2 is a prequel. But more importantly, rdr2 is a prequel that depicts the explicit fall of the Van Der Linde Gang. Every death serves to cement that fact, as the game strategically will take out certain characters to both break down the gang’s stability, and the players emotions.
The first thing the game does to permanently shift the tone is to kill the comic relief characters. Both Sean and Kieran, while both complex in their own rights, serve specific, almost “gimmicky” roles in the gang (funny Irishman and whipping boy). These more comical purposes unfortunately don’t fit the game’s tone in the later chapters. And while I could go on about how interesting it would have been to see these two characters dramatically change over the course of the later chapters, their deaths are what the writers used to establish the beginning of the end.
The next duo the writing team had to take out of course had to be the smart, leveled headed characters, back to back no less. While Sean and Kieran’s deaths served to change the tone for the player, Hosea and Lenny’s deaths are what changed the tone for the gang. There’s a reason the fandom jokes that if Hosea had lived, he wouldn’t have let what happened happen. Both of these characters in their own right served as important emotional pillars for the gang, especially Dutch and Arthur. They were both rational and incredibly resourceful, two traits that made them a liability to the destined fate of the gang.
Hosea’s death also now introduces us to the section where a lot of characters die because they narratively HAVE TO. Like I said, rdr2 is a prequel, and you don’t want any loose ends popping up in rdr1 cause a character was introduced and not properly wrapped up. Lenny Kieran and Sean, while had their own purposes behind their deaths, didn’t have to die BECAUSE the story was a prequel. It’s easy to rationalize that if they had lived, their lives wouldn’t have affected the plot of rdr1. Hosea however, due to his personal connection to Dutch, HAD to die. He would have absolutely been brought up in rdr1 had he survived, as he was that important to Dutch and the gang.
That goes the same for Molly and Grimshaw. Both of these characters in my opinion would have been loose ends in the first game had they survived. Their deaths did serve other purposes though,
Molly for one served as both the gang and the audience’s sign that things were never going to be ok again. She’s the first death to happen within camp by the hands of another camp member, foreshadowing at its finest.
As for Grimshaw, standing as the last gang member in camp to stand by Arthur and John, had her fate sealed the moment she lifted her gun. By now the tone and the stakes were set, everything was falling apart, and nothing can save it. Grimshaw’s death doesn’t serve to set a tone or change anything for the characters, she’s just a victim of the gang’s fall, getting shot like a dog as reward for her years of loyalty.
And of course, we now get to Arthur,
For those who played the first game, it’s safe to imagine that when going into the next game, there’s a lingering feeling that Arthur isn’t going to make it out of this. The pinnacle of rdr2 tying its loose ends if you will.
And yet you bond with Arthur. You experience the world with him, meet new people with him, you bond with the gang and your family with him. You bathe him, you feed him, you make sure he’s rested, you make him do chores, you do little errands for others with him. You watch him grow scared and doubtful, you watch his eyes grow red, his skin go pale, his cough worsen. And because of the nature of a prequel, you know this can only end one way.
Sure, maybe the writers could write him out quietly, make it so that John would have no reason to ever mention his brother. But untouched grief works well too to keep a man quiet about his loved ones.
Despite everything, despite most players knowing Arthur doesn’t get to stick around, to live a long life, to get out of this ok, we still fall in love with him, and become completely undone at the end of the game.
And Micah’s death in the epilogue, of course, just feels good. It ties up a loose end for the first game, and it gives the player all the freedom in the world to pump his ass full of lead. It’s your reward for 40 hours of cowgirl simulator hell.
And also shout out to Strauss for not ratting despite getting kicked out and tortured, secret og right there,,
—————
Alright it’s now 5am as I finished writing this, but I have 3 more deaths I wanna quickly comment on. Davey, Jenny, and Mac, right?
Due to how sparely these three are mention outside of how they mildly affected other characters, I view their deaths as essentially worldbuilding. Characters WILL die in unfortunate and unfair ways, especially if it involves the Pinkertons. Characters don’t always get to go out with a bang, you are not immune to succumbing to the elements in this game, nor are you immune to the consequences of your actions.
—————
But of course, you can write a story however you want. I can see myself being easily convinced that any of these deaths weren’t required, as it’s all really just up to how well you can write it. I wholeheartedly think that the story could’ve been benefited by the presence of Sean and or Kieran for one. Whether it be watching Sean breakdown over the stress of the gang falling apart, or watching Kieran finally become a trusted member of the gang and break out of his shell more. And hell, I think there’s something interesting in the idea that Hosea survives, but is unable to help quell Dutch’s paranoia anymore.
There’s room to argue that each death wasn’t required, but in the end, they did die, and there were good reasons behind it. Yes, even as a fan who regularly forgets Kieran died due to the amount of “he lived” AU’s bouncing around in their head, his death was cool as fuck, and both thematically and narratively made sense. It’s beautifully tragic and deeply depressing, and the religious themes only make it that more interesting. Saw him pop up in a Twitter thread of “most graphic video game deaths” and felt genuine pride-
#get ready for my longest rant yet folks#oh god I can see the sun through my certain my sleep schedule is fucked yall#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption two#rdr2 rant#arthur morgan#dutch van der linde#john marston#hosea matthews#lenny summers#kieran duffy#sean macguire#micah bell#molly o'shea#susan grimshaw#leopold strauss
108 notes
·
View notes
Text
PeepHole Ch.1: Moving Day
Masterpost Ch.1 - Ch.2 Pairing: Dylan Matthews x Fem Oc
Rating: 18+ (mdni)
Genre: Neighbors/Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Angst, Fluff, Slow-burn
Summary: Moving isn't as exciting as Amoya thought, plus she may have pissed off her new neighbor.
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: (This story takes place in 2024) Mental illness (anxiety, ocd), Violent intrusive thoughts, Language, Age gap (5years), Using phone while driving
Status: Unedited
Author note: This is the first fic that I've ever posted, I've written before but I've never finished anything and published it so don't tear me to shreds, please. I chose to make an oc instead of just writing as a reader mainly because I made a whole character in my head before I wrote this so I decided to just make her an oc, if you would like a post going more into this oc of mine feel free to ask (I might post it anyway because I like her), there is no smut in this chapter btw. Please give me feedback and suggestions, constructive criticism, etc. Don't be a bitch about it though...please. I'm thinking of making this a series POSSIBLY, but I procrastinate a lot so that may never happen. To my fellow troublemakers hopefully, I do Dylan justice and my writing is at least a little bit accurate to his personality. Still, to be fair I'm a fairly new troublemaker having only found out about this man a few weeks ago, so if something isn't accurate please correct me...politely. He's become my new hyper fixation so when I saw there aren't really any fics about him I decided I should make my own so here we are. Anyway with that being said Enjoy <3. Update: Dylan is barely in this chapter
Monday, February 26, 2024 Time: 8:30AM Moving out was less relieving than you thought it would be. Having been by your mother's side for almost all your life, you'd gotten comfortable always having someone around.
'You can't live with your parents forever'
People would remind you whenever the topic of anyone's living situation would be brought up. Being twenty-seven and still living with your mother wasn't something you wanted to keep telling people, no one would take you seriously. Though your mother never pushed for you to move out, never mentioned it actually. You think you know why. You never say anything though, so you deal with the slight embarrassment, and ignore the judgmental stares you get whenever someone brings it up.
'They don't know our relationship'
More excuses you make up to justify your obstinance; and to mask the anxiety you're feeling as finish up packing your U-Haul. You had finished packing your stuff from your shared apartment and were now finishing the few boxes you had in storage. Now in the elevator mustering up the strength to carry the last two boxes back down to the truck. Grabbing the lock you had left on the floor, you place it on top of one of the boxes and stack the box onto the second one, bending down and lifting with a soft grunt. Long strides carrying you to the elevator, you push the down button with your foot. The doors open soon after, you step inside setting the boxes down as you push the bottom floor and wait. Pushing off the wall as the doors open you pick up the boxes once again, you quickly load them up into the U-Haul before grabbing the padlock from on top of the box, and then heading to the front desk of the storage building.
"Here, the unit is clean and empty." You smile at the woman as she takes the lock and keys with a thank you.
Turning on your heels you walk back to your U-Haul giving everything a once-over before locking it all up, now turning your attention to the hitch attached to the back of the Truck where your precious car is hitched too. It was a black and cherry red 1993 Nissan 240SX with a red interior, you had seen it while driving with your mom past a repair shop when you were 25, back then it had no windshield or wheels. You won't lie and say you fixed it yourself but you did invest all the money you had at that time to fix it up and color it how you wanted; you still would say it was worth it. Checking the hitch and chains attached to the bottom of the car making sure everything was set and ready.
"Everything looks good?" Your mother said making you jump
"Yah! A warning ma, please! And yes everything looks good, I packed up the last two boxes and returned the keys and lock to the front desk while you were in the bathroom." You let out a breath calming your heart from the scare you just had, your mom snickering next to you. You turn to her rolling your eyes playfully as you walk to the front of the truck, your mom following behind you.
"Good, let's get on the road." Your mom hops into the passenger seat and rolls down the window. "I wanna get home by Wednesday."
You climb into the driver's seat, buckling your seatbelt then checking your mirrors. You two had agreed on driving to your new apartment, taking turns every 5 hours, once you got there she'd help you unload and unpack on Tuesday, and your mom would then fly back to New Orleans on Wednesday. The more you think about it the more you feel yourself panic a bit.
"Okay."
Time: 9:00AM Starting the car, you let out a breath putting the car in drive and pulling out of the parking lot of the storage building. You could tell your mom was trying to keep herself calm by the way she would rub her right thigh with her right hand, it was a nervous tick she passed down to you. Unfortunately, you were just as nervous, so you decided to turn on the playlist you and your mom made while eating the night before, mixes of all kinds of genres put into one playlist to keep you both entertained during the drive. Pulling off the main road and merging onto the freeway, you glance over to your mom to see her smiling wide looking back at you. She has that look in her eyes, you know it well.
"Its happening ma." You smile back at your mom then look back to the road
Your mother places her hand on your thigh, letting out a long sigh and a soft squeeze before returning it back to her own lap. You see her wipe a single tear from your peripheral; you don't acknowledge it. She'll start bawling the second you tell her not to cry. So you pretend not to see it and start singing along to Erykah Badu, your mom turns the music up a bit and starts singing along too. You smile to yourself as you glance out your side window, watching as familiar buildings pass by in a blur, You think you'll miss this place. No, you know you will, but a part of you is kinda excited, relieved almost. You've silently always longed to live on your own, but another part of you calls you selfish for even wanting that until now
'How could want to leave your mother'
You know it's normal to want to move out of your parent's home, every grown adult has to move out at some point, and twenty-seven is a perfectly normal age to do so, You wanted to move when you were twenty-four. Hell, some people live with their parents till they are far in their thirties.
'But you know your mother may need you right'
All your brothers have moved out, they are doing good on their own, and you're the only one left. It was only a matter of time; you tell yourself. Your mom will be fine, she's dating a new man who treats her great and takes care of her. Hell he tried to hire a moving crew to move all your stuff, but you wanted to do it yourself and your mom wasn't going to let you drive almost halfway across the country by yourself.
'you could've found a place closer to her you know'
Phoenix, Arizona. You chose Phenix simply because it was affordable for you and close to LA, your mom agreed it was a good choice. There is work in LA, California is just so expensive, so you chose the next best thing. The apartment is nice from what you saw as well, one bedroom, two baths with a study. It was perfect for you.
Time: 11:23AM The drive was going well so far, your mother eating a bag of chips she packed along with all the other snacks and drinks. You were eating a Honeybun, one of your favorite snacks, and drinking water. Your mom had turned off the music and started watching YouTube with mostly commentary so you could listen and drive, Right now a video was playing talking about some ice cream drama in North Dakota. Author note: if you watched this video featuring Dylan is in Trouble, I know it's technically in the future but I don't care, this is all fake anyway. You found it interesting and kinda funny, laughing every now and then when your mom would pause to add her opinion. About two-thirds of the way into the video you glance down at the screen, there are two guys now instead of one, and one of them is wearing glasses, you glance back down looking at the title of the video 'Insane Local Ice Cream Shop Drama (w/ Dylan Is In Trouble)' You made a mental note of the second guy's name for later, his voice was nice you told yourself, he was also fine as fuck. You leaned your seat back as far as it would go, which wasn't very far, getting comfortable. You still have two more hours left to drive.
Time: 12:35PM Your mom had fallen asleep about ten minutes ago, YouTube was still playing, The next video had been the same guy as before. You looked down for a second, looking at the title of the video that had been playing for about fifteen minutes. 'Guessing Finales After ONE Episode (ft. Dylan Is In Trouble)' You smile to yourself a bit recognizing the name at the end of the title, you let the video play just listening to the guy talk for ten more minutes. You caught yourself smiling again when you recognized the second guy's voice as he joined in for the rest of the video, you took a sip of your water glancing down at the video, seeing him pop on screen whenever he had something to say
"he's funny." You mutter to yourself quietly, thinking out loud.
The video had ended and your lips fell back into their original position, as an ad played before the next queued-up video, you looked down at your GPS. 1322 miles to go; you let out a sigh.
'200 miles closer to leaving you mom'
She was helping you unpack, so you technically wouldn't be leaving her really. If anything she was leaving you since she had to fly back home. You prop your left elbow on the open window, your left hand holding the steering wheel, and your right hand comes down to your thigh, rubbing small circles back and forth.
'What happens if Devon goes back home'
Your oldest brother Devon was working at a mental facility. He was on his medication and was doing good, he managed to get a job there and has been making decent money. He was doing fine, He is doing fine.
'What if he stops taking his medication again.'
They will keep tabs on him, they know his habits, his symptoms, He is fine.
'Has another episode and gets out'
That wouldn't happen. He's fine
'He'll be there when mom gets back'
No.
"Hes gonna ki-'
-beep! beep! beep!-
Time: 2:00PM Your mom's alarm goes off, making you jump a bit. Reaching over to turn it off, your mom moans a bit as she wakes up from her short nap, stretching her arms a bit as she yawns.
"Jeste li spremni za promjenu." she yawns out, going for a sip of her water ( translation: Are you ready to switch)
Your mother's Croatian tends to slip when she's just woken up, or delirious. You nod your head looking at the next exit sign to find a gas station, spotting a Love's off the side of the freeway. Slipping off the freeway you pull up to the gas station before parking next to a pump.
"Bathroom?" You look over at your mom, she nods, unbuckling her seatbelt and hopping out of the truck, you do the same.
You both enter opposing stalls to relieve yourselves of all the water you had been drinking, washing your hands after. Your mother heads back to the truck to pump the gas as you browse the aisles for any extra snacks, spotting a honeybun you instinctively grab one, then two, and head to the cashier. You place your honeybuns on the counter and then look up at the cashier who seems to be invested in something on her phone, she wasn't wearing headphones phone volume at maybe thirty percent, you could hear what she was watching. You recognize the voice, the cashier finally looks up from her phone quickly apologizing for not paying attention.
"Oh I'm so sorry, will this be all" She quickly rings up the two honeybuns.
"No you're fine, that'll be it actually." You dismissively wave your hand pulling out your wallet to pay.
Looking down you notice her phone, she had put it on the counter, and the video on it had been paused but on the screen was that guy again, though it seemed to be a video of his own this time. You pull out some cash and hand it to the young woman behind the counter, she takes the cash, counts it, and then goes to get your change.
"No, it's fine, keep the change" Flashing a smile then grabbing your honeybuns you take another glance at the women's screen before it turns off from being left alone for too long.
Opening the passenger seat door, you climb into the seat buckling yourself in. Pulling out of the gas station your mom pulls off back onto the freeway continuing your journey. You pull out the bag you had brought for little activities, pulling out your book of choice. You had splurged at a Barnes and Noble a few weeks before you began packing, picking up a bunch of books you had either heard good things about or had been wanting to read. Red Rising was one of the books, it was also the one you were currently holding.
"I'm gonna put my headphones on, so you can listen to whatever you want." You tell your mom as you put your headphones on and pull out your phone.
You had gotten the book on Audible a while back and wanted to read and listen at the same time. Pressing play you turn to the first chapter and begin reading as the narrator spoke. Your mom seemed to have put music on, you could feel the bass as she turned up the volume and began singing along.
Time: 10:56PM Hours had passed, it was your turn now with two hours left till your next switch. Your mother was knocked out, lightly snoring as you drove in silence, you had stopped reading once you had switched. You also decide to put off reading it until you were moved in, the book had grabbed your attention, so much so, that you wanted to be able to focus on it solely; so you chose to wait. You had a couple hundred miles left to go and things were sinking in more as you drove silently. Your mind doing its usual thing, making you worry about things that most likely won't happen, even if it did, you know it wouldn't be your fault. You couldn't help but think maybe it would be though, it was a dumb thought but you couldn't help it
'What was that guys name again'
Your brain blanked for a second, random but ok, your brain goes back to the YouTube video your mom had been watching, that cashier was watching him as well. Dylan is in Trouble, you wonder what kind of videos he makes, most likely commentary. You pull your phone out glancing down and go to YouTube, you use the voice to text and hold your phone up to your mouth.
"Dylan is in trouble"
You press search, going back and forth between looking at your phone and watching the road. You look down to find his channel, press his icon, and scroll through some of his videos. Movie commentary is what you mostly see, occasionally you'd spot something different, you decided you'd dive into his channel later when you weren't driving.
Time: 5:00AM You were in the driver's seat, you had let your mom sleep more after she had been driving for about three hours. She was up now though, you could tell things were starting to catch up to her again. She was fidgeting a lot more now, well so were you, she looked very tense. She helped you find this apartment, but you assume she wants to see the neighborhood for herself, in person, wants to see how good the security is and what the neighbors are like. It's only natural, she's a mother and her only daughter is moving twenty hours away from her. You look down at your phone, your GPS says you are pulling up now, you look around the area, it was very nice, wasn't too far from the city. You spot the complex to the left, it was pretty big with multiple sections with apartments, you were building three, kind of in the middle of everything. You pull into the complex parking in front of the leasing office to speak to your landlord and to get your keys, your mom comes with you of course, sizing everything up.
"Hi welcome to Arts District Apartments, it's Amaya correct, my name is George?" An old-looking man stands from his desk, his hand reaching out to shake yours
"Thank you, George, it's Amoya actually" You reach out and shake his hand with a smile.
You two talk a bit about the complex and its rules etc. Your mom chimed in every now and then to ask her questions. Before you know it you're unloading the truck into your new apartment, you're realizing now that you didn't have as much stuff as you thought. The last thing you had left was your bed, you and your mom had been doing well with just the two of you, but after you two had gotten the mattress inside your mother's back began to bother her. Now you had your bed frame, you told your mom to relax for now and that you could get the frame up yourself. Partial lie, you previously took apart the bed frame and so there were mainly long pieces that weren't too heavy except the backboard, that thing was heavy as fuck, luckily you had a dolly at the storage building to help you carry it out, but now you have to carry it to the elevator and down the hall. You managed to get it down from the truck, and from there you lifted it and sped walked to the elevator, almost dropping the bed frame on your foot as you set it down to push the button. The doors had closed on you twice as you tried to pick the frame back up and lift it into the elevator, but alas you made it, now on the third floor and outside the elevator. You took pride in your body, you considered yourself strong, regularly went to the gym, and you would say your legs were the strongest part of your body, with that being said, you tried to make as little noise as possible since it was still early in the morning, you lost your footing. You were almost there, your door being right in front of you; but you fell. Landing on the door behind you hitting your head with a very loud thud.
"Bumbo." You whisper yelled at yourself in Jamaican as you set the frame down and leaned off of the door. (translation: Fuck)
Holding the frame upright you walk around it reaching for your door, the frame slipping from your fingers and falling against your neighbor's door again. You prayed that your new neighbor was either a very deep sleeper or wasn't home right now, though maybe you didn't pray hard enough. You lift the bed frame from your neighbor's door, getting your phone to get your mom to hold the door open for you so you can slide it the rest of the way inside. Stopping, you hear the door behind you click open. Your bed frame blocked your view of whoever had stepped out, but you could hear him.
Ch.1 - Ch.2
Updated Author note: Hopefully this was an enjoyable first chapter or part. The apartment is just a random apartment complex I saw on Zillow, everything in this is all fictional besides the YouTube videos and things that are obviously real. Anyway, I have decided to make this a series, I've gone into too much detail on little things like Amoya's intrusive thoughts and all that, and it'd be a waste to shorten and delete half of what I put and speed through everything, Amoya's intrusive thoughts and anxiety is a trait I added from myself, so you'll notice a lot of internal thinking and scenarios she makes up in her head. Hopefully, the idea is as cool as what I thought of in my head. If this does well, I will upload the other chapters one after the other, If it does bad I'll just delete everything, but please be patient I procrastinate a lot and I want the writing to be good. Please be honest and let me know how you all feel about this, if you like the writing, the main character, the pacing, the storyline, length, anything, and everything, I need criticism but don't be a bitch about it.
#Dylan is in trouble#dylan matthews#Dylan is in trouble fanfic#Dylan Matthews fanfic#fluff#angst#neighbors au#slow burn
62 notes
·
View notes
Text
THE OLD GUARD - CHAPTER 4
"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."
Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.
Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)
Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships
Status : In process
Word Count : 5k
Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm, and more.
Tag list : @blackrockshooter780 @babyymeme @starrlo0ver @suckerforv @mushroom-main @m1sss1mp @prettydancingdamzel @i-have-no-life-charlie @avadakadabra93 @veronawrites @kawaiikpoplover268 @didi-9310 @ghostlyworld @carolinexkpop @gooooomz @00ihatesnaku
A/N : After months of struggling with life, health, mental health issues... I can FINALLY POST AGAIN !! This chapter was really hard to write (I cried a little at the end ngl :D), I have constant writer block, constant impostor syndrome... I have the perfectionnism trait but in a toxic way really TT.TT Don't hesitate to like and reblog !! Also don't be afraid to leave a little comment or if you have any questions, here or in anon in my inbox !! they are really really welcomed, I love reading all your impressions and thoughts !!
Also thank you so much !! I was inactive for a very long time and I still got daily alerts with people who liked/kudos the chapters and the story :(( I can't express (yeah i'm an author and i can't express through words LOL) how much i'm grateful :(( ♥♥
ps : ah and sorry if there is any mistakes or anything it's almost 2:30am when I post this and I had an really emotionnal day fgkfdhlfk LOVE YALL MUAH ♥
Playlist link : The Old Guard Playlist
Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad
Chapter 3 // Chapter 5
☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾
She was wondering whether it would be better to ask Handong to stay with her. She had assured her that she would handle the situation and that Handong could go home. She knew that Gahyeon would need her at their coffee shop.
However, now that she was in the living room of the seven boys, her soulmates’, after bringing one of them in an utterly unconscious state for a reason as unknown to them as it was to her, she was starting to regret this decision.
She couldn't understand what had happened with Jin the moment their eyes met. She couldn't say anything, the words were stuck in her throat as they stared at each other without a word. He parted his lips as if he wanted to say something, but just like her, nothing came out.
He'd known she was his soul mate, of course he could feel it. Just like her. But had he recognized her? Did he know that the two of them were the firsts of their soulmate bond to meet, long before any of the other six were born? She couldn't be sure and didn't have time to find out.
She had seen his features contort in pain, and without a word, he had collapsed. Luckily, Handong, who had seen them, was able to catch him in time, preventing him from falling to the ground and potentially injuring himself.
Thanks to a spell that increased her strength tenfold, she could carry him without Handong’s help and any difficulty to the place where he lived with his mates. But she couldn't stop herself from hurrying, worried sick about him.
And that's where she is now. Jungkook helped her carry Jin to the living room, laying him on the sofa. While Yoongi woke up Taehyung and Namjoon. Jimin and Hoseok hurried to get a damp cloth on Jin's forehead.
Namjoon and Taehyung stormed into the room, not hiding their surprise at seeing her there in total panic.
However, they didn't ask any questions. Yoongi probably had to explain to them what happened and what was going on.
She was standing in front of the sofa where Jin was lying, staring at the unconscious demon, his features distorted by pain. The sight of him was enough to make her stomach twist with soreness.
"Hey, Noona..." Jimin's soft voice startled her. He was standing next to her, a comforting smile on his lips, "Everything’s going to be fine, don't worry..."
She didn't even know what to say. She didn't dare to look him in the eye, or any of the other boys. The guilt she'd been carrying around with her all these centuries was only getting stronger.
She could hear voices behind her, probably the boys talking amongst themselves, or maybe they were trying to talk to her. She didn't know. Nothing around her was clear and precise. Her vision was blurring, her heart rate had been racing for a while and she was getting worse.
She gasped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned round abruptly, facing Namjoon. The other boys were behind him, except for Yoongi who was next to Jin.
"Hey," he greeted her with a gentle smile, "don't worry, everything's going to be fine,” he repeated Jimin’s words, “You're having a panic attack, I'm gonna help you, okay? Look at me."
His voice was soft and reassuring, it had a calming effect on her. His presence and warmth invaded her whole being, despite the anxiety attack she was having.
She raised her eyes to meet him. Slowly, he tells her to take long, deep breaths. The first time, she breathed in and breathed out. Then a second time. And a third.
Finally, her breathing returned to normal and her heart rate calmed. Seeing this, Namjoon gave her another smile, his fingers caressing her shoulder to calm her down.
She had the strange impression that Namjoon probably possessed some kind of power capable of influencing the emotions, feelings, or even bodily reactions of the people he touched. Or maybe it was just the soulmate effect.
"Feeling better?"
"Yes... Thank you..." She replied with a small smile, seeing Hoseok approach her with a glass of water. "Thanks… and sorry, I wish we'd met under different circumstances..."
"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm enchanted to meet you."
Hoseok gave her a big, bright smile, which he succeeded in communicating to her.
"I guess you guys have questions... and why did I show up with Jin in this state..."
She turned her attention to Jin. A wave of emotion suddenly washed over her as she realized that yes, he was there, in the same room as her. Her soul mate, the first to cross her way, the one she'd lost so suddenly and brutally centuries ago. A mixture of joy, sadness, guilt, and apprehension.
"Do you know what's going on with him? And why is he in this condition?" Hoseok asked curiously, taking back the glass she'd just drunk in one long sip.
She bit her lower lip nervously. She had to tell them. Jin was their soulmate, just like he was hers.
But where to start?
"Come on, settle down here."
Yoongi straightened up to install her on the sofa, right next to Jin still unconscious. He'd then sat down next to her, while the others had taken seats in front of her, Namjoon and Hoseok on the low table, the maknae on the floor, clinging to each other.
The sight made her smile gently. But quickly the smile disappeared, replaced by apprehension. The words just wouldn't come out of her mouth. She knew that the moment had come, that once she'd told them everything, they'd hate her, reject her, and she’d lose the people she'd waited for all her life.
"Noona... I can smell your fear all the way up here..." murmured Jimin, her eyes landing on him with surprise, "I'm an empath, by the way..." he explained with a shrug.
"You don't have to be an empath to sense the fear radiating from her." chuckled Taehyung, teasing his companion who gave him a nudge on the shoulder, "Oops, sorry sweetie."
"I know that from the moment you will know the whole story, you'll never want to hear from me again and I... argh that's the last thing I want," she admitted with a sad smile. The events of the last few days had paralyzed and overwhelmed her in some ways when it came to making the right decisions, and she was extremely upset with herself about this.
"But I think I need to stop being scared, and selfish like I have been."
"We could never hate you," Hoseok said firmly, the others all giving signs of approval, "no matter what you've done."
"Tell us all the horrible things you ever did, and let us love you anyway."
She recognized Namjoon's words. And she wasn’t surprised that he could quote Edgard Allan Poe, considering the circumstances of their first meeting.
She couldn't deny that his words made her feel a tinge of comfort, because he was sincere, and every one of the other boys thought so.
But they didn't know the whole story yet, so the chances of them thinking differently once they knew the whole truth were pretty high.
"Where to start..." she took a long breath, "Jin... I met him before I even knew I was immortal. That was... uh... it seems like an eternity now, at the beginning of the 15th century."
She expected the exclamations of surprise that followed.
"Wait... you mean you and Jin hyung..." Jungkook fell silent to think.
"Why didn't he ever tell us about you then? And why have we never met you before ?” asked Yoongi skeptically, "You're our soulmate, his soulmate, how could he..."
"It's more complicated than it sounds..." she sighed, scratching the back of her head nervously. "I always knew I was a witch, my mother was a witch herself. I lived in a village in France during the period when the witch hunts began. It was also during this period that the Malleus Maleficarum was written."
"I know this book," Hoseok sighed loudly as he shook his head, visibly annoyed, "this pile of garbage written in the late 15th century, which supposedly explains what a witch is, how to recognize one, interrogate them, and kill them."
"A load of bullshit yeah," Namjoon added with a chuckle, "I rarely waste my time reading books, but this one..."
"Tell me more !" Jimin exclaimed, "I read it too, well, not all of it, it's so... misogynistic and sexist!"
"I... was one of the witches who had to go through all the torture and experimentation to write this... book or whatever it is. And most of the women who suffered all that crap were just ordinary mortals," she admitted with a little restraint.
Horrified exclamations were heard from the maknaes and Hoseok. Yoongi and Namjoon closed their eyes for a few seconds, repressing the anger rising within them.
Talking about these events did not leave her indifferent; these memories were among the worst she had ever known, and she still sometimes had nightmares about them.
She remained silent for a few moments, before finally speaking up.
"That's not the point. Jin is the point. When I met him, he was a merchant passing through the village." A small smile appeared mechanically as she recalled this memory, "It was love at first sight. Of course, it was. He knew I was his soul mate, but I... I didn't even know what a soulmate was. He taught me. He taught me so many things..."
She turned her head towards Jin, still unconscious beside her. Oh, how she'd missed him. He hadn't changed a bit.
"I immediately sensed that he wasn't human, just as he'd guessed that I was a witch. So much better in a way, it made things easier."
Delicately, she let her fingers stroke his forehead, brushing aside a few strands of hair, a tender smile on her face.
"He stayed in the village after that. I had taken over the bakery from my parents who had passed away from an illness a few months before I met him. We weren't the richest, but we were happy.”
The other boys couldn't contain the grins on their faces. Of course, this story was beautiful and worthy of a fairy tale. But they all knew that fairy tales were only fantasy stories. The reality was not nearly as lovely.
"We lived... two years like that before everything went to hell."
She felt her hands tremble as she recalled what she was about to say.
Jimin sensed her nervousness, fear, and sadness. He left Taehyung and Jungkook's embrace to kneel before her, gently taking her hands in his for comfort.
Her gaze met his, and he offered her a gentle, reassuring smile. But she couldn't relax.
"The witch-hunt had begun and was becoming increasingly virulent and violent. The villagers had always thought it was strange that I hadn't suffered the same illness as my parents. I knew the rumors about Jin and I. But until now, we'd managed to keep a discreet, almost unnoticed presence. Until she came along."
Jimin squeezed her hands a little tighter as he felt her anger rising.
"That demoness... came to our village, supposedly a cloth merchant. She fell for Jin. Was it love, or just a physical attraction? I don’t know. She succumbed to his devastating charm, like so many others before her." She chuckled, imitated by Yoongi.
"As you would expect, Jin did nothing but ignore her and rebuff her advances. She didn't appreciate it at all… I learned later that this half-succubus demoness was renowned for finding prey and not letting go until she got what she wanted."
"A real nasty leech..." muttered Jungkook.
She noticed, however, that Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok expressions had changed. They had exchanged glances, seeming to pass a message to each other that she didn't understand. She decided to ignore it for the moment.
"Things got worse after she arrived, after Jin's rejection." She took a long breath. "She's the one who delivered me to the villagers, who exposed me. When we realized her plan, that she was planning to take Jin with her by force, by any means necessary, we wanted to run away. We'd go to Asia, or America, or wherever, to another continent, away from her, away from all of this. But that demoness had planned everything… We were young, unaware, and inexperienced, unlike her. I was barely 25, and he was 23... we just wanted to..."
She paused to calm herself, her heartbeat quickening again. Fortunately, Jimin was able to calm her, just by being here, his soft hands on hers, and she was grateful for that. She thanked him with a small smile, which he returned by stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. How could a demon be so angelic?
"She specialized in memory magic..."
"Oh, I'm getting the hang of it..." muttered Namjoon, clenching his jaw.
"That bitch…" added Yoongi, making her huff.
"The villagers arrived in the middle of the night. We didn't see it coming. The demoness took advantage of this moment to attack Jin and cast a spell to erase me from his memory. The last time I saw Jin was before they put a bag over my head when he was unconscious in her arms."
She lowered her head, and it was only when she felt Jimin's soft hand on her cheek that she noticed a tear had rolled down.
She knew what the demoness had done, she knew that she'd erased Jin's memory, simply because she'd come to see her a few days later in the cell where she was being held captive. She explained everything, adding that she had offered to give her over to the Catholic order of Dominicans who wrote the Malleus Maleficarum. Which happened, the day after she came.
"When I finally escaped... After several months," she continued anyway, her voice trembling, "I looked for him, I... crossed France from top to bottom, and Europe... I looked for him everywhere, for many years... I never found him... until now..."
Jimin's hands gripped hers a little tighter. She looked up at him, then at Yoongi, who had moved a little closer to her. Their shoulders were touching, his way of showing her some comfort.
"So that's what happened..." muttered Namjoon, who had straightened up, his eyebrows furrowed, looking thoughtful.
"I hate humans..." blurted Jungkook as he hugged Taehyung tightly, his companion nodding in agreement.
"And so, you thought we'd hate you, or I don't know what other nonsense might go through your little head when we know the truth?" Yoongi asked, holding back a laugh. “I don’t see why. I mean. It’s genuine, really.”
She arched her eyebrows in confusion. She thought that it seemed logical. She hadn't been able to protect Jin, she’d left him in the clutches of this demoness who'd probably done a thousand and one things to him that she didn't even want to think about. She hated herself for it.
"Hyung." Hoseok sighed, shaking his head, "stop."
"I failed to protect him, he's my soulmate and... I abandoned him and..."
"You didn't do any of that, Y/N."
Namjoon approached her. He took Jimin’s place and knelt down facing her, placing his hands on hers.
"You're both the victims. You've met someone stronger, older, more experienced than you and she took advantage of it. You did everything you could. You did your best. You could never be blamed for that. We could never blame you for that. ."
"And Jin hyung won't blame you either, I'm sure," Hoseok added with a small smile. "When he will regain his memory, when we will give him back what that demoness stole from him, he'll be the happiest man in the world to have you back with him, with us. Believe me."
She pressed her lips together, not wanting to cry, not yet.
Yoongi wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer.
"It's over now," he whispered against her hair, "you're not alone anymore, you won't be. We've found you, you've found us."
She couldn't hold back the few tears that had started to fall. How could she not break down, after all those centuries spent alone, thinking that her soulmates didn't want her, living with the guilt of having abandoned the only soulmate she’d ever known.
They said the same things as her friends when she told them everything a few days ago.
None of them thought for a second that what happened to Jin and her was her fault.
That feeling of being understood, of not being judged, of being accepted despite her past mistakes and scars.
That feeling of being in the presence of her soul-mates.
She hadn't felt so at peace in what seemed like an eternity. Ever since Jin and her were separated.
°°°
"Noona... I have a few questions..."
"Here we go... the kid and his questions. Wait, I'll get you an aspirin and a big glass of water."
Jungkook glared at Yoongi, who had gotten up to go into the kitchen, a sneer on his lips.
Jin still hadn't woken up, but after a simple soothing spell and an herbal ointment she’d carefully placed on his temples, he was calmer, his body more relaxed.
She hadn't wanted to stay, not wanting to risk another attack if Jin woke up again. She learned through Yoongi about the migraine attacks he'd had since the day she met Namjoon.
But the boys convinced her to stay. Namjoon and Hoseok had disappeared into their library, explaining that they were going to rummage through their books after a potential counter-spell. She wanted to go with them, but they insisted she stay with Jin and rest.
It didn't take long to realize that Jin's seizures had a direct link with her.
As her soul mate, and despite his forced amnesia, his subconscious knew who she was. But it wasn't strong enough to bring back the memories the demoness had made disappear. Well, they hadn't disappeared, technically; she'd just hidden them very well somewhere in his psyche.
her scent on the clothes of Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had been the trigger for his subconscious to awaken, for his memories to struggle, to resurface and make Jin realize that yes, he did know her, as his intuition suggested. Yes, the person on the hill was her, yes every memory he thought belonged to someone else was his, and that the blurry person sharing them with him was none other than her.
The migraines, the loss of consciousness... were only signs that his body, mind, and soul were fighting to bring his memories back to where they belonged, to finally give him back what that demoness had stolen from him.
Or at least, that's what she’d come to conclude on hearing Yoongi's explanations.
"Ask me anything Jungkook, don't worry," she replied with a small smile, still sitting next to Jin.
Yoongi had returned with some drinks (no aspirin, to Junkook's great relief) which he gave to the three maknae, still sitting opposite her, and to her, then sat down on the coffee table.
"I was wondering, how did you find out that you were... immortal? I mean, what does that actually mean?"
She'd been expecting this question. Even for demons, immortality was still a rather vague concept. Nobody is immortal. Demons and vampires aged slowly, very much more slowly than human beings. But they weren't really immortal.
"I died for the first time after the Malleus Maleficarum experiments, they sentenced me to be hanged to death, like all the witches at that time."
She heard the exclamations of surprise from the maknaes. Yoongi remained silent, listening to her attentively.
"I actually died that day. Except... except a few seconds after I took my last breath, my heart started beating again, and I came back to life."
None of them could believe their ears. Yoongi couldn't hide his surprise either, and she knew that a thousand questions were forming in their heads.
"The second time was a few days later. At a bonfire." she continued, bowing her head, "The thing is… I feel all the pain, all the way to death. But for some reason, I live again and again. No matter how people try to kill me, no matter how I die, my wounds heal themselves, my organs reform."
"Is it due to a spell?" finally asked Yoongi with his eyebrows furrowed, "or maybe some kind of witch, a hybrid with a phoenix..."
"I think you're going a bit far, hyung..." Taehyung chuckled slightly.
"Hey, every proposition can be plausible, gamin."
She couldn't hold back a smile. It was obvious that they'd known each other for several decades now, that they'd been through a lot together. In a way, she was relieved that at least they hadn't had to go through all that alone.
"I've never known the reason, or why I became like that," she finally continued, scratching the back of her neck, "I just am. Several times I thought I wouldn't get up this time from certain injuries, especially during the wars, but I always got up again. And just like that, more than 600 years have gone by."
"Maybe it's just that fate didn't want you to die before you met your soul mates, who knows." Yoongi chuckled, shrugging.
"If you think the universe and destiny are that kind of romantic..." Jungkook rolled his eyes.
"I'm tempted to believe that theory, it's much sweeter and more romantic than a curse put on you..." added Jimin with a little pout.
"Sometimes things just happen, and they're impossible to explain. Even for creatures like us." she let go with a sigh and an embarrassed smile, "In any case, I've stopped looking and obsessing over it, I've just accepted it."
"Still, it must be painful to die, over and over again..." Jimin cocked his head to the side, feeling a wave of sadness as he thought of all she'd had to go through in her long life. As an empath, his reaction hardly surprised her.
If they knew. She didn't want to dwell on how some humans and even other creatures had taken advantage of her immortality to put her through the many horrors she’d experienced. This wasn't the time to talk about all those things.
“Our pretty soulmate is strong and courageous.” Yoongi finally broke the silence after a few seconds, “She’ll talk about it when she feels ready.”
She bites her lips. She wanted to tell him to not call her pretty, but she felt that it was destined to fail. Yoongi seemed to be stubborn, maybe a little too much.
“Do you guys think Joonie and Hobi will find something ?” Asked Jungkook, looking at Jin with worry.
“For sure they will!” exclaimed Jimin, “Namjoon has books that are centuries old and unique, Hobi and him are the most intelligent demons ever! They’ll find something, surely!”
Jimin was passionate, his trust in his partners was blind and absolute. It was probably the same for all of them, she was sure about it, but Jimin was the one who showed it the most.
“In the worst case…”
“Taehyung don’t start…” mumbled Jungkook, as the others sighed.
“Let me finish! In the worst case, if we don’t find anything for Jin hyung, the solution is simple, very simple. We’ll create new memories, so many new happy memories all together!”
“If something was robbed from you without your consent, I think you'd like to have it back. Don't you think so?" Yoongi asked, his voice softened as he ruffled Taehyung’s hair who nodded with a sad pout.
He was just as worried as the others. There were so many unanswered questions, so many theories without explanations, so many problems without solutions yet.
“Namjoon and Hoseok always find a way to resolve problems, you should be used to it now.”
That voice startled all of them. All five heads turned to the sofa beside Yoongi and her. To everyone's surprise, Jin was staring at them, or rather, at her.
“Jin you’re awake !”
While the younger hurried towards their eldest, their faces racked with worry and relief, she reflexively stepped back.
She couldn't get very far, as her back bumped into a chest. She turned to face Yoongi, who placed his hands gently on her shoulders. He could read the stress and apprehension on her face. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling right now, coming face to face with the one she'd lost centuries ago.
"Where are you going like this?" he asked at first in a slightly teasing tone, before he leaned towards her and whispered, his voice softening, "Relax, everything's fine."
She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She'd spent her whole life looking for Jin and his other soulmates. Now they were all here. They were all in the same house. Everything still seemed so unreal that she didn’t know how to react or what to do.
“Y/N ?”
She froze when she heard her name coming from Jin's lips. The others in the room gave him a surprised, confused look.
"Hyung, do you..."
"Remember her? Us? Unfortunately not, I don’t. But I heard you guys talking earlier, I wasn't totally unconscious. Thanks for the herbs, by the way, they really appeased my headache."
Her eyes widened at his words. Had he heard everything? Did he know the whole story, just like his other soulmates? In a way, she didn't know if she could handle a new explanation, which was a bit of a relief. On the other, she was concerned about his reaction, since he was the one who was affected.
Jin straightened up to sit on the sofa, helped by Jimin. Yoongi was still standing behind her and gave her a gentle nudge, so that she didn't push herself aside.
Jin's eyes landed on her. For a moment, he said nothing, just looked at her. She could feel the stress twisting her stomach, her legs going limp as cotton. She felt weaker than she had ever felt before.
"Can you come a little closer, please?"
Jin's voice was soft; she perceived no anger, no resentment on his side. He had kept his comforting aura, the same one she'd known so long ago, the same one that had reassured her countless times.
She soon faced him and lowered herself slightly to be at the same height as him.
How was someone supposed to react to finding their soulmate and youthful amnesiac love, lost in tragic circumstances centuries ago?
She was torn between tears of joy and relief, but the guilt that consumed her seemed to be the most dominant feeling at the moment.
"Jin I..."
She pursed her lips. Her voice trembled. For sure her body would betray her right now.
Jin offered him a tender smile and shook his head.
"Shht, it's all right." he murmured his words as he gently grasped her hand, "come here."
Without waiting for a response from her, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her.
At first, her eyes widened in surprise. Quickly, she couldn't hold back any longer. Her arms followed and she hugged his waist as if her life depended on it.
"I know what you're thinking," he began, his hand running gently through her hair, "I'm not angry or anything, how could I be? It was never your fault, nor mine." He paused before letting out a small sigh, she could hear all the pain, the sadness in his voice, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry you've had to carry this burden all alone all this time…"
Her whole body was shaking. His voice was shaking, as if he were holding back his own tears. She was fighting inside. She was fighting herself not to break down. But her traitorous body still betrayed her, and she couldn't even control her tears, which had started to flow uncontrollably.
But his words. His words resonated not only in her heart but in her entire soul. She didn't know how much she needed to hear those words from him until now.
"We'll find a way, and everything will go back to normal, it will be even better, I promise."
After all these years, these centuries of living with the weight of guilt, the weight of regret, the feeling that she'd never be able to meet her soul mates... she felt all this weight recede, making way for a quietude and lightness like she'd never known before.
An eternity of torment, torture, and pain was finally over.
It was as if she'd been deprived of oxygen all her life, until now, as if her breathing had been cut off, and now she was finally getting it back.
And even though she was currently crying her heart out in Jin's arms, she could also feel Taehyung's warm, reassuring hand on her back, Jimin's, Jungkook's, and Yoongi's presence in the room, Namjoon's and Hoseok's, even if they weren't in the same room with them.
Her cries were no longer cries of sadness. There was only relief, and it was becoming more of an evacuation from all that time of pain and isolation.
All those smells, all that warmth that invaded her body at that moment, brought her calm and relief she'd never be able to explain, not even in a day, a year, ten years, or even a hundred years.
The reunion with Jin that day, feeling him against her again, as well as having the presence of her soul mates around them, those who were destined for her. After all this time where her heart and soul had been crying out for help, she had finally been heard.
The darkness was finally disappearing, as the clouds and obscurity finally allowed the sun a chance to shine.
And despite her tears, she couldn't help smiling, because at last, she knew that happiness really was within her grasp.
#aly's writing#whalyrae#tog#the old guard#bts#bts au#bts soulmate#bts soulmate au#bts polyamory#bts poly#bts poly!au#bts poly!#bts poly au#bts x reader#poly!bts x reader#best friends dreamcatcher#demon bts#demons bangtan#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts ff#bts x yn
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
moonlit misunderstanding - a chris sturniolo short
a/n: requested by anon; lowercase intended
cw: slight angst but fluffy ending, smoking, getting high
summary: a late night smoke session almost causes problems
y/n had been excited about her guy friend, daniel, coming to stay with her in la for a couple of weeks. he had traveled all the way from australia, and she couldn't wait to catch up and create new memories with him.
at 2:30am on a warm, moonlit night, y/n found herself unable to sleep. she tossed and turned in her bed, thoughts racing through her mind. deciding to clear her head, she slipped out of her room and made her way to the backyard, where she knew daniel liked to smoke. there he was, sitting on the porch steps, lighting up another joint. y/n joined him, and they began to chat about everything from their childhood adventures to the latest in their lives while smoking the pack of blunts daniel had by his side. as the conversation flowed, there was a sense of closeness, and the connection between them deepened.
amid the laughter and shared stories, a subtle tension grew in the air. daniel, feeling emboldened by the moment and living life on the high side of things, moved closer to y/n and, with a hint of flirtation, leaned in for a kiss. y/n’s heart raced as she realised what he was doing, but she pulled back gently.
“daniel, you’re high, stop!”
“c’mon babe, just one peck?”
"i can't, daniel," y/n whispered, her voice filled with regret.
"i have a boyfriend, and i love him."
just as she uttered those words, the door to the backyard swung open, and there stood her boyfriend, chris, his expression a mix of confusion and hurt. he had woken up and found y/n missing from their bed, and his intuition had led him to the backyard.
“really?”
y/n’s heart sank as she saw the disappointment in chris’s eyes. she had never intended to hurt him. she quickly explained the situation, how the blunts are to blame and that she had pushed daniel away. daniel, too, admitted that he gets a bit too flirty when he’s high and that what he went to do was completely wrong and inappropriate. chris, though hurt and surprised, saw the sincerity in y/n’s eyes and forgave her.
the incident served as a reminder of the strength of their relationship, and the couple worked through the misunderstanding together. as for daniel, he apologised for his misread signals and respected y/n’s commitment to chris. they continued their friendship, sharing stories, and making more memories during the rest of his stay. the incident had tested their bonds, but ultimately, it was y/n’s and chris’s love that emerged stronger from that moonlit night.
#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo fluff#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo triplets imagine#sturniolo triplets fanfic#sturniolo triplets x reader#sturniolo triplets angst#sturniolo triplets fluff
139 notes
·
View notes
Text
Home (Peter Parker x GN!Reader)
Pairing: Peter Parker (TASM) x Gender Neutral Reader Rating: General Audiences (except for one swear word) Words: 1652 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 2 - Love Confession Tags: college AU, you're both studying mechanical engineering, Peter is a genius, you're just ken, fluff, kinda cheesy and kissing
It’s always something. You can never have a normal exam week, where you just spend your days in the library surrounded by fellow students, mutually fuelled by caffeine and stress. Supervillain of the week literally burned down the public library and there was an alien spacecraft that crashed into your favourite café. It felt like you still had a million chapters to read and another five thousand words to write for an essay and not to forget that your stupid project partner still has not even opened the Google Slides link you sent them.
A long sigh, mixed with a frustrated growl left you as you once again couldn’t find a single spot on campus to sit down and study. It was always crowded like this during exam week. If you wanted a good spot, you better come to campus at 6:30am, but who had the energy for that? Fortunately for you, there was a small pebble on the road that led through the fields of yellowed grass between the main building and the main gate. You kicked it as hard as you could, letting all your woes leave you through your foot and into that little rock. It flew forward and - unexpectedly - up. “Oh shit!” You exclaimed as you followed its trajectory with your eyes. It was going straight for someone’s head, but before you could tell the brunet to watch out, he turned around and caught the pebble midair.
When he was turned around, you recognised him. Out of all people for that pebble to almost hit, it just had to be your crush. “Peter!” You called out to him as you jogged over. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to kick it your way… good catch by the way.”
Peter held the pebble in his fist and smiled at you; he was so cute when he did that. “Oh hey!” He beamed at you. When you complimented his catch, he hid his hands behind him and avoided eye contact. “Thanks, I got uh… good reflexes.” He cleared his throat and then looked at you. “Already done with studying for the day?”
You let out another frustrated sigh. “Ha! I wish. I came here to study, but it is fuller than a Blackpink concert stadium here. Guess I’ll have to settle for my tiny desk in my shoe-box dorm room.”
Peter snorted at your comparison. He seemed to want to say something, but he was hesitant about it. “Uh…” You raised your brows at him, awaiting his words. “I just uh… finished my final presentation for the thermodynamics course-”
“Oh how did that go?” “Got an A, but that’s not important-”
“Not important? Bro, you’re kidding, that's great!”
Peter was getting a little red. You liked how humble he was in spite of how smart he was. He was a little awkward, but during presentations, he often had his own flavour of charisma that made you listen instantly. He was good on the eyes too…
“Uhm, thank you… what I wanted to say is uh… I’m going home now to study. My aunt won’t be home until late and you’re free to join me at my dinner table - to study, I mean, but you’re welcome to join for dinner too of course!”
You kept forgetting Peter still doesn’t live on his own. Sometimes you envied him, sometimes you were happy with your freedom. “Are you sure? That’d be really cool. Studying together is way more fun than on my own anyway. Oh, do you maybe have notes for our material science course that I could borrow?”
A little later those notes were in front of you as you were seated at Peter’s dinner table. You had never been in his home before, but the Earthy tones and natural lights just made it feel like a home. There was love in the pictures that decorated the place, there was personality in the old books that scattered the house, one of a shelf on the wall, another one next to a vase with flowers, another on the side table by the couch…
“Here you go!” Peter put a glass of juice next to you. You thanked him with a smile. You did not realise how your warm smile fit right in that room, how it made Peter’s heart leap and his stomach flip upside down. He just sat down across from you like there was nothing going on.
You managed to concentrate for a good half hour, but after that your eyes drifted up and caught onto a sight that was way better than a schematic drawing of how tension affects different materials. Peter had this cute frown of concentration on his face, a pencil balancing between his lips as he typed something up on his laptop. He abruptly paused and looked straight at you. The change was so sudden; your eyes widened, before you forced them back onto Peter’s notes. Your face felt hot. Peter definitely caught you staring and you had no idea what he thought of it. Did he suspect you fantasised about kissing him whenever he info-dumped on you? Did he know how his smile could light up your whole day? Did he have a clue or was he just that oblivious? Most smart people were.
Suddenly, Peter let his head fall onto the dinner table. “I can’t do this anymore!” He exclaimed. You gave him a worried look, not that he saw it with his face planted in his notes.
“Wow, I didn’t know even the genius Peter Parker suffered from exam breakdown,” you commented. You genuinely thought Peter thought exams were a breeze. His grades were all exemplary, except that one time he was down with the flu so bad, you didn’t see him for three weeks.
“That’s not it! I’m-” he lifted his head. He was clearly upset, but as he rose from his seat to walk back and forth along the kitchen counters, he couldn’t put a single sentence together. He had paced the length of his kitchen at least five times, before he spoke up again. “This is so not how I envisioned this going, but I feel like I am gonna burst if I don’t say this now!” He walked over to you and, in an incredible display of strength, turned your chair with you on it to face away from the table. His arms were caging you, holding the back of the old, wooden furniture. “I’m so in love with you and…” He seemed to realise what he said and physically backed up until his back was against the wall.
You didn’t know what to say. It was hard to believe your ears. You just stared at him in shock as Peter did that thing you adored so much – rattling on like someone who did not prepare enough text to fill up their 30-minutes presentation. “And I don’t need you to feel the same, sorry, that was coming off a little strong, but I mean it. It’s like I’m in pain when I’m around you and I can’t hold you. Wait no that’s cheesy. Is it? I don’t even know, you make me wanna say cheesy stuff!” Peter was suddenly very interested in the couch in the living room, his eyes never leaving it as more words poured uncontrollably from his mouth. “When you look at me all my instincts are telling me you feel the same, but it could be wishful thinking, but I am so sure, but what if I’m wrong, I mean if I AM wrong, then that’s fine, I just…”
You stood up. Peter immediately shut up, eyes shifting to the floor. He looked like a child caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves and then closed the distance quickly, putting one hand on the wall behind Peter. Your classmate froze up and you wanted to relieve him of his nerves, but you had your own that clogged up your throat and wound your vocal cords tight like a scrunchie holding a very heavy ponytail. “Whenever you talk, I never want you to shut up, but when I look at your lips moving, I cannot think about anything but making you shut up with my own.”
Peter looked up, glistening eyes pulling you in. You were scanning each other’s faces, both scared this was all just some prank or a dream. “I’m going to ruin this moment by talking about material science if you don’t shut me up right now,” he almost whispered. You chuckled and put an arm around him, pulling him against you until your lips met. It was like coming home, like hot chocolate in winter, like a cosy blanket by the window on a rainy day.
Your lips touched like they were meant to do so from day one. It was your first kiss together and yet it felt like you had been doing this for ages. Your whole body felt like it was going haywire and the look in Peter’s eyes when you parted did not help. Neither of you said anything, kissing in the kitchen over and over again, as if you were memorising each other’s taste, while you should be memorising that schematic you still had open on your laptop.
When you finally found it in you to take a step back from Peter, you were both smiling giddily at each other. You broke the silence between you two, before Peter did. “All jokes aside, I actually do need you to talk to me about material science. I think I’ll be much more concentrated when you explain it.”
Peter let out a chuckle. “Ok, but when exams are over, you are buying me dinner.”
You slowly walked back to your chair. “I’ll even throw in a movie as well,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot better about your exams.
—————
REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS
Likes do not help exposure! A comment in tags or replies can sustain a writer for months!
#tasm#peter parker#tasm peter parker#andrew garfield#peter parker x reader#peter parker imagine#peter parker x male reader#peter parker scenarios#peter parker x gender neutral reader#male reader#gender neutral reader#flufftober#the big tober#marvel#marvel x you#marvel x male reader#marvel x reader#marvel x gender neutral reader#marvel x y/n#y/n
165 notes
·
View notes
Text
A cute little something I just wrote.
A day in the life of a student
It’s 7am. My alarm rings and I wake up, exhausted. I feel like I barely slept. Maybe I didn’t. I close my eyes again and set my alarm for another half hour.
It’s 7:30am and my alarm rings once more. I wake up this time and force myself to sit up as I sigh. I stand up and leave the comfort of my bed.
I throw on clothes, I force down breakfast, and I walk out the door.
9am, the bell rings and I want to go home. Gym first period. I’m too tired to put any energy into whatever we’re playing today.
10:20 am. the bell goes, I change my clothes, and it’s off to English class.
It’s 11am and I’m counting down the minutes to lunch. I don’t have any friends in this class and I’m starving. and bored. I sit and wait as time seems to still.
11:40 and I’m walking to where my friends and I eat. Suddenly my appetite is gone but I manage to eat. This way no one will think anything is wrong. everything’s so dull these days my noodles taste like nothing and my pudding has lost any sweetness. I listen to the conversations like an outsider, wishing I were anywhere else.
It’s 12:40 and turns out elsewhere is worse. I’m trying to answer this science question but the teachers moving so fast I can’t process what I’m reading and as I’m in the middle of almost, almost solving this problem, she calls on me. I admit to not having finished feeling like an idiot and she moves to the next, smarter person.
It’s now 2:30 and I’m falling asleep in my business class. 45 minutes and I’m free.
Finally. 3:15 and I’m free. But I’m not because I’m staring down 10 pages of homework and I feel my will to live slip away.
It’s 4:30 and I should do my homework but I’m too tired to move from scrolling through instagram and lying on the floor
It’s 4:45 and I need this work done
It’s 5:00 and I really should start before dinner
It’s 5:15 and I need to get up
And 5:30 and I just want to cry I’m exhausted and my stomach hurts but this homework needs to be done.
It’s 6:00pm I have one question done and it’s dinner time.
It’s 6:45 and my family is fighting and I’m trying to get this work done.
It’s 7:00 and I’m back on my phone.
It’s 9:00 and I’m finally done and I need to shower
It’s 9:30 and I’m picking out my clothes for tomorrow
It’s 10pm and I’m on my phone scrolling.
It’s 10:30 and I should get ready for bed
It’s 10:45 and I’m lying on my bed staring at the celling. I’m too tired to brush my teeth. I’m lonely. I’m tired. I’m done. I want to give up. There’s no point to any of this I’ll never be anything anyways. I’ll never be good enough.
It’s 11:30 and I get up and I get ready for bed.
It’s 12:00 and I get into bed. Either I fall asleep out of exhaustion or I lie awake for hours, trying to just get my brain to shut up so I can sleep.
It’s suddenly 7am and I have to do it all again
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Productivity Journey
I am writing this 2 days later almost. Primarily because last Friday was a unique experience. I was awake all night because I had first coffee around 9:45 on Thursday, and the second on 2:30am. I kept awake with the storm. I was studying 'female deselection' when the day broke, and it was dark, raining. I have been trying to get to a land where a small house has been demolished so there was soil. I wanted to bring some for my plants. I went it was raining hard. I collected some soil in a bucket, and and two plants. One fern and one mango. I wish they live to grow big bushy and happy as possible. That is how a day starts. I love rainy days.
Coffee effect wore off around 11:30am, that's when I went to sleep finally. Woke up around 1:30pm. Had my period. Hard physical work does wonders. YES. I meant that.
Day 3 - 25/10/2024
What I am proud of/happy about - (why do they have this green?)
I could see the daybreak while I was studying.
I started reading the book I wanted to, for so long. Read few pages, took some notes, did some reference work.
I brought two plants, immediately potted them. Cleaned the areas.
Did Spanish on Duo for 20 minutes. Took notes.
Slept for 4 hours. (The keyword is SLEPT)
Woke up, brushed, ate.
Did a meeting. (I was shitty in the meeting. But anyways. Will work on that)
Watched a movie. Was emotionally available enough to enjoy that and notice the details.
Made myself a tea that altered the period flow into magic.
Worked on a soundtrack we are trying to make for a friend. (Had been delaying this for so long!!!)
Did some journaling.
Slept within 1am.
What I am not proud of/happy about -
Couldn't concentrate on anything.
Routine was shitty.
Bad sleeping pattern.
Emotionally in a very bad place, and I have no idea how to handle this. (crying help to a wall)
Didn't start writing the proposal. YET.
Didn't take inhalers. NONE.
Took the nasal spray at 9 at night.
#100 days of productivity#study motivation#lifewithasthma#motivation study motivation energy#studyblr#study space#trying to hold it together#trying to hold myself accountable#studying
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hold my hand, friends, and experience the joy that has been my day. And by joy I mean the opposite of that. Warning for long stories, trypophobia, and wasps.
I discovered that, for some reason, I have no hot water. This is bad enough, but at least it's summer so the cold tap is warm enough to shower. The water heater is housed in a little sort of outdoor closet off the back of the house. I can't fix it, but I can at least see if there's anything visibly wrong, like a leak or a bad connection. So, for the first time this year, the closet gets opened.
And it's full of wasps.
Not packed full of wasps, mind you, but they are crawling all around the place. There is no surface that does not have multiple wasps on it. I can't see a nest, but there must be one somewhere.
The water heater is seemingly intact, albeit covered in danger ladies, so the closet gets sealed back up for the time being while a course of action is planned.
...I wonder, fleetingly, if the danger ladies are somehow responsible for this. This is incredibly stupid, as these are little paper wasps (specifically Polistes arizonensis) and there is literally nothing they could have done to damage a metal 30 gallon water heater. But I wonder nonetheless.
My parents own the house I live in, so the eventual decision is to reluctantly call my mom. (I will explain the reluctance in a minute.)
I tell her that the hot water is out ("Oh no!") and that I went to check the water heater ("All right...") and that the closet is full of wasps ("WHAT?") so I couldn't get a good look ("Let me put you on speaker so Dad can hear this.") but it seems to be intact.
My mom has a prior engagement at 1:30 that will take roughly an hour, after which my dad can come check it out. I should expect him in the 2:30-3:00PM range. It's about 11:30AM, but I'm not dying without hot water so it's fine.
Also, to explain that reluctance mentioned earlier, I haven't cleaned my house in a month.
For the unfamiliar, I'm chronically ill and disabled, so stretches of low physical function and action are normal; I'm just pulling up out of one recently, and fell back down into it hard a couple days ago. I have been chipping away at chores this week, but not nearly enough for my living conditions to be parent-approved.
I have three hours.
I spend those three hours cleaning as much as I can as well as I can without hot water, breaking down empty boxes, throwing away wrappers, taking out trash, putting things away. I focus on the living room and the kitchen—the front of the house, which is all my dad should see.
An important point to make here is that I spend a lot of this time out on the front patio shaking out rugs and breaking down boxes to put out for recycling collection; it's fairly humid and extremely hot, over 100F. It's partly cloudy, but not enough to help.
I clean until my right leg stops taking weight without severe—but not extreme—pain. I could probably keep going, but it's almost 3:00PM, and I don't want to be caught in the middle of something when my dad shows up. The living room and kitchen look messy, but passable. It'll do.
Around 3:15PM, that handful of clouds overhead drops a little bit of rain, really just a sprinkling, which is a surprise. The neighborhood experiences a brownout, which is more of a surprise.
At 3:25PM, I get a text from my mother letting me know they're finished with their prior engagement, which I assume means Dad will be here within a half hour. It's 10 minutes back to their place from where they were, and then a little under 15 minutes to my place from theirs.
My dad arrives three minutes later, because my mom texted me only after she'd gotten home and settled and he'd already left. She did not tell me he'd already left, but that's fine. He's here, it's fine. On the front patio, he asks me for my wasp spray, and I go to grab it—it's in the bedroom at the back of the house, because we found a danger lady in there a couple weeks ago. (It's wasp season, if you couldn't tell.)
When I come back out, my dad is standing at my bedroom door, and says he needs to pass through there to get out into the back yard. He does not, as there are three additional access points to the back yard, one on either side of the house and one from the side of my siblings' house next door. I tell him the room is a mess and I don't want him to judge me for it. He says it doesn't matter, he's passing straight through. I say it's bad. He says he needs to pass through.
So I worked myself to the physical injury for literally nothing. Illusion shattered. Judgment and disappointment and disgust incoming, no matter what I do. I don't know why I bothered.
He passes through. It's bad.
(He does not pass through again for the rest of the time he's here, by the way, opting to use those other access points I mentioned earlier in spite of that adamant refusal on arrival. So that feels great.)
In the back yard, he opens up the little closet to look at the water heater—and wow, it really is full of wasps. I tell him there's a nest in there somewhere but I didn't see it. He sticks his head in and looks around until he finds it, takes a step back to make sure he can keep it in his sights, and then hits it with the wasp spray.
A cloud of danger ladies rolls out of the little closet. We both move back, he swings at a couple (why?), and we remove ourselves from the area by a wider margin. I start counting as we watch the wasps vacate the premises from a couple yards away rather than a couple feet.
That sprinkling of rain starts up again. I lose count of the number of wasps fleeing the little closet in the high thirties.
As we wait, the sprinkling turns into a proper rain. I ask my dad if he wants an umbrella, he says it's fine. Eventually, he heads around the house back to the front to retrieve a poncho from the truck; I get an umbrella from inside, although it's a little late at this point.
Upon his return, deciding it's safe enough, we move back in to check out the water heater. There are still wasps. We both accept this. Dad kneels to try to check the pilot light, and has to flick a wasp out of the way.
It starts to rain harder.
Dad, clearly getting aggravated, pulls on the work gloves he brought with him as he stands back up, reaches into the little closet over the heater and above his head; I can't see what is going on, but he has apparently grabbed the nest with his hand, because he pulls it free from the interior of the closet and I get to see it for the first time. It's a wide disc of paper cells, several capped off to contain brood, with a large gold wasp still clinging to it. It's too big for him to fit his hands around, almost too big to get the tips of his fingers around the circumference of its longest side.
The rain starts to pour.
Dad throws the wasp nest across the back yard.
"Mom wants one of those," I say as it sails past me, because I know she does. I don't remember why. It bounces twice before stopping with a splash, seemingly intact, five or six yards away.
Dad makes an incredulous noise and returns to the water heater. I stare at the nest for several seconds before letting him know I'm going to go take a photo of the nest to show everyone. He makes another noise, and I take the can with me to set it in-frame for scale.
I do not achieve the sense of scale I was hoping for, but I share the photo in the family chat nonetheless.
Me: There were wasps in there. Mom: Holy cow! I need that! Wow! Me: It's in my back yard. I'll set it aside for you. Mom: Thank you!
I go inside to get a gallon freezer bag, because it won't fit in anything smaller. I return to the nest and discover that it has two levels, which I've never seen before in a wasp nest. Despite those two levels being connected by only a couple cells in the middle and the entire structure having bounced twice on concrete and then sat in the rain for several minutes while I shared the photo and chatted and got supplies to store it, the nest is fully intact. Terrifying.
I pick it up with my bare hands and put it in the bag. It's very wet, like everything in the back yard, because it's pouring. I'm soaked through in spite of the umbrella.
Returning to the water heater, I find my dad kneeling down again trying to figure out what's wrong. It seems to be the pilot light, so asks if I have a longneck lighter; I do, so I hand him my umbrella and go inside to retrieve it. It takes me a few minutes to find, but I eventually return.
Everything is going great.
I give him the lighter and he gives me back my umbrella before getting down on all fours to access the pilot. He switches the heater's front switch to "pilot," tests the lighter, then sticks it into the lower panel and clicks the lighter several times. It doesn't light.
Not the pilot. The lighter.
He pulls it back out, clicks it several times, and eventually gets a flame. He repeats the previous process. The lighter doesn't light. Again, he withdraws the lighter and clicks it to test, and this time it won't light at all. He holds it up to his ear and shakes it, and his face flattens.
"Out of fuel," he says. He passes it to me. "Do you have another one?"
"I might, let me check." I give him my umbrella again and go inside. I find a miniature blowtorch and a pocket version of the lighter that is now useless; I bring the pocket lighter out with me, although the stem on it is only about the length of my middle finger.
Dad regards it with uncertainty. "Well. We'll try it." He takes it and gets back down. Click. Click click. Click.
He sighs and stands up. "Would've been nice if this happened earlier."
"Earlier in the day?"
He pauses. "I guess you called earlier. We were busy."
"Yeah."
He looks at the water heater like it's even more of a disappointment than I am, then shakes his head and hands me back the lighter.
"Too short?"
"Too short. I gotta go get a new one. This heater's twelve or fifteen years old, so it might not even be that, but the pilot's definitely out so we gotta try it first." I understand this and nod, he claps me on the shoulder and goes around the house to get back to his truck, again, and head out to buy a lighter so we can see if he needs to buy a water heater.
It is now just shy of 4:00PM.
As I'm standing there, soaking wet with an umbrella and a lighter, a wasp flies past me and lands on the outer wall of the little closet. I watch her climb up and down for a little bit, then fly away. I feel bad for ruining her house.
I go back inside and sit on the coffee table in the living room (so as not to get the couch or any chairs wet) while I wait for Dad to get back. I update everyone in the family chat; about 15 minutes later, my brother pipes up in the family chat to ask if Dad needs a longneck lighter. He is slightly late, but I appreciate the offer. Dad isn't back yet, so it doesn't matter either way. Mom replies that Dad bought a new one. I wonder how she knows that.
It's still pouring outside. I watch Seem, the youngest of the cats, entertain herself with raindrops on the window.
I notice that the rubber lining on one window has, at some point between me washing the windows earlier and this moment, fallen off. I do not fix it.
Dad gets back just before 4:30PM and, with me holding my umbrella over him as he gets down on the ground like a large, determined lizard, he succeeds at last in lighting the pilot under the water heater. It makes a noise I can only describe as FWOOMPH and then starts making that very low sort of womwomwom sound you hear when you first turn on an electric kettle. That seems like a good sign, so he closes the little closet back up.
As he does so, he notes that the door is slightly bowed, probably from exposure to the elements. He posits that a gust of wind blew through yesterday, got in through the bowing of the door, and put the pilot light out, which is entirely possible with our recent weather.
I posit that it was the wasps, and he pauses for a moment before saying, "Actually, we'll go with that."
He moves some unused paving stones up against the base of the door to straighten it out, hoping that the bow will ease slightly as the wood dries back out.
"Y'know, your mom said she remembers this happening a couple times while we were living here, before you moved back."
"Oh?"
"Yeah, when it gets gusty. That's why we've got the rocks by the closet, if I'm remembering right."
I nod, understanding his logic perfectly. "I'll update you in about a half hour to see if it's heating right."
He nods back. "You saw how I lit the pilot?" He walks me through the process, removing the safety plate, checking for a flame, resetting the dial and using the primer switch with the lighter. I commit it to memory to the best of my ability. "So it's pretty easy," he finishes, "but I don't want you girls doing that so lemme know if it happens again."
I will allow the information to leave my memory. "Right."
He hands me the lighter. "You need this more than I do," he says seriously. Then he adds, "You just hold the switch down and it goes. The flame starts off blue, 'til it starts burning oxygen and it turns orange. It's really cool."
I try it. It is really cool.
I hand him a freezer bag with a two-level wasp nest in it. "Mom wants this." He takes it and looks at it with a mix of bewilderment and acceptance. "Make sure not to accidentally leave it in the truck when you get home—it's really wet and it'll rot if it's left in the heat in a sealed container like that, and then she can't use it."
He nods. He tilts the bag to one side and lets a bit of the water drain, then looks at it again, contemplative. "Did she say what she wants it for?"
"I dunno, but she asked me for the one we knocked out of the laundry shed a couple months back and I forgot. It's gone now, but this one's way bigger anyway."
He nods again. "I'll get it to her."
I thank him, we hug, he goes around the side of the house to the truck, I lock that gate behind him.
I discover that I've somehow locked myself out from the back, so I have to unlock the gate and go around the side of the house to get in through the front with my keys. On the patio, I shake out my umbrella and hang it off one of the eaves to dry.
Dad waves at me from the driveway and heads out in his truck.
The sound of rain on the tin roof overhead stops all at once.
I'm pretty sure it was the wasps.
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
I don't normally vent, but... TLDR: I was mugged in a city, a country, where I am a foreigner and the supposed friends who were helping me told another friend I was acting "entitled" to their help. It was heavily implied I had to APOLOGIZE to them. AITA or not AITA? I now have much bigger trust issues than I had last week.
Long version:
I've been living in the UK for almost 2 years, and I went down to London on Friday for a break from a stressful work-week. The first night went well, dinner and a show, and I fell asleep at a decent enough time to wake up early on Saturday for 9:30AM yoga with, for lack of a better term, friends of a friend. It was a relatively nice morning, so I decided to take one of the buses instead of schlepping my way down to the Tube (which I still call the subway most days coz, can you blame the proverbial Yankee visiting King Charles' Court?). I got off the bus in the City, what they call the business area in London as a whole, I have been made to understand. Google Maps told me it was an easy walk from the bus stop to the hotel where the yoga class was, but there were several alley/side road closures where the app wanted me to go. I was still on a nice, wide sidewalk, with few cars on the street and few people around me too. I paused at what felt like a safe intersection on that wide sidewalk, right by a modern glass building with CCTV hanging off it and CCTVs on the crosswalk traffic lights a few meters away. I was as far from the roadside as possible, and out of precautionary habit, I had my back turned to the road a little to protect the phone I had out in my hand. I was texting those sort-of friends that I was a few minutes out, and trying to get Google Maps to reroute me.
Suddenly, a black glove appeared in front of my face and my phone was snatched away by what looked like a man in an electric blue puffer hoodie, riding a bicycle on the sidewalk. I tried to chase him, but between the coffee I had to let go of and the duffle bag on my shoulder, it was hopeless. He disappeared around the corner I had been considering walking along myself, and I was left to ask for help from the four passersby at the crosswalk. Two of them happened to be a father and daughter (Brits, but also just visitors in London). The father wrote down my exact location and the time so I could report it to the police. When I said I had friends at a nearby hotel, he and his daughter helped me find my way to it. They didn't have to walk me in, but they did. "We'll wait here," he said at the top of an escalator, "and wait for you to give us a thumbs up if the receptionist has located your friends". The receptionist did, I signaled the two perfect strangers that all was well, and we waved goodbye as they headed off to continue their day.
What followed should have been an exercise in practicality. The boyfriend of one of those sort-of friends (let's call him M) and a hotel staffer helped me contact the police and cancel my debit card (which had been in my snatched cellphone's case). Two officers came to the hotel so I could give them my statement, etc. All the while, M sat with me, updating his girlfriend and the others who still continued on with their yoga session. The police asked me to take them to the spot where the crime occurred. M was still with me, and as we walked out of the hotel, his girlfriend (T) and more people than I expected (I'd only though I was meeting T and another friend I'll call W) came out to join us. I hadn't realized that a whole hour had passed since I'd arrived at the hotel. Their yoga session was over.
At that point, I was torn between (1) feeling marginally better because I had company who knew the city and (2) trying to keep it together in the face of everything that losing a smartphone in 2024 implies. After the police took down the added details at the incident site, T and co. asked me if I wanted to still go to brunch. I agreed since I needed to sit, was shaken, and, though I didn't feel it at the time, did need more than half a cup of coffee in my stomach. At the restaurant, I tried to stay in good spirits. Aside from T, M, and W, there were two people in the group I had never met before, and we were joined by yet another person. I managed to shovel down most of an avocado toast and an Irish coffee (I effing needed the boost). T and her friends had moved on from the usual "sorry that happened to you" and were playing catch up while I asked M where I could find my phone carrier and a place I could get a new phone. I'd come to the UK with the phone that had been snatched, and had only gotten a SIM-only plan with the carrier. I thought the practical thing, since I don't know how many more months/years I'd be in the UK, would be to buy a new phone, then have my carrier block the stolen phone's SIM and issue me a new one. M and I Google Mapped my options, added in my own hotel location so I could grab my passport on the way. I admitted that, considering everything, I (1) needed help getting navigating to those places from where we were and that (2) I didn't feel good enough to be alone just yet. We paid (I still thankfully have working credit cards) for our food and finally left the restaurant.
This is where, to my mind, the uncomfortable part started. Two of the extra 3 people (remember, I was only supposed to have been with T, W, and M, but they had a total of 3 other friends there too), and somehow what should have been a quick 20-30 minutes to get my passport from my hotel and then drop me off on the street with the phone and carrier store became 6 nerve-wracking hours with a too-large group. I said nothing when they started doing "for the gram" picture stops along the way. M went up to my hotel room with me when I got my passport. He took a photo of some passwords on my laptop that I might need when the phone or carrier store staff helped me with my phone. (In hindsight, we should have used pen and paper.) Then our group of 5 all went in what I assume was the direction of the two stores. W was navigating, and at that point, the streets were so crowded and I was getting very tense that I just trusted she knew what she was doing. In my mind, I kept replaying the mugging over and over, what I could have done differently, etc, etc. (I know what happened wasn't my fault, but at the time, I couldn't help it) and listing what I'd have to do first when I got the replacement phone and SIM. I didn't know T and co. well enough to tell them I was internally seeing red and trying not to spiral. Then, suddenly, we stopped walking... at a bubble tea place. I'd only vaguely heard what the group had been talking about as we walked along, since it seemed to be more Instagram/YOLO, etc stuff and no one was asking my input anyway. I smiled tightly and declined an offer for them to buy my bubble tea, opting to stand outside the store to work on staying calm. I didn't realize (hadn't been told) they wanted a break or anything, but I couldnt complain since I was literally dependent on them until I could get a new phone. We eventually got to the phone store, the last remaining extra person left, and I had to pay full price for a phone because as a foreigner I couldn't get on the monthly payment plans. T, M, and W, instead of just pointing me to the carrier store three shops down, came in with me and waited while I talked to the staff. At some point, W or T asked if I wanted coffee, and, while I thanked them for still being there, I declined the drink again. I thought they'd go off to a nearby café or something since I had paperwork, etc to fill. They and M never left. By the time I got the new SIM in the phone and the staff had advised me to go back to the store where I'd bought the phone to get help setting it up, M, T, and W were still there. They went back to the phone store with me, and T told me to stop being so anxious and sit down while we waited in the queue for assistance.
By then, it was almost 5 in the afternoon. The tech assistant helped as much as he could, since I was basically setting up my phone from scratch, but said I could do the rest with my tablet back at my hotel... or come back to the store with it before closing time so he could walk me through that part. T gave me a card with some of the friend-group's phone numbers, and she, M, and W still walked me to my hotel (I'm pretty sure it was unpromted, but my head was so foggy at that point from all I had done and still had to do). It turned out the hotel was a 10-min walk in a straight line from the phone shop. We got to the entrance to my hotel, I said thanks to them for being there the whole time, and they left. I handled grabbing my tablet and walking right back (in 5 min) to the phone shop to finish setup alone. The day ended with me exhausted, having a semi-functional phone that I'd have to wait to fully fix still when I got to my apartment (in a place I jokingly nickname the Shire) after the weekend, and crying to friends back in the States in a call over a lousy room-service dinner. I told them what happened, including my misgivings over all the YOLO stops, and they calmed me down and helped me a little more with fixing my phone.
I got at most two hours of sleep by the time the sun rose on Sunday morning... and then made myself presentable enough to meet A, the original London friend who had introduced me to T, W, and M where I first arrived in the country. I told him that while I was grateful for his friends' help the previous day, I didn't think I could go through that again. (I didn't exactly want to say "they're good-time people, but I don't know if I'd want the...awkward stops all over the place again if I were ever in another crisis around them.") What A said... upset me. T, M, and W had apparently complained to him that, while they still thought I was a lovely person (ah, Britishisms!) I acted "entitled" to their company the whole afternoon and was scowling too much. They didn't regret canceling plans for me, but I seemed "ungrateful in my human interactions with them". A all but said I had to APOLOGIZE to his friends.
I'm in my early 30s, with a no-nonsense, get-shit-done North American mentality and I'm aware my default expression, especially when I'm too tired, is RBF (resting bitch face, for those too young to know), and I feel terrible if I need to drag anyone at all into my messes. They're energetic and bubbly Brits in their late 20s. But they really could have left me at any point, just given me directions and left, and I would not at all have held it against them. Just like I was grateful and held nothing against that father with the kid who initially helped me after the mugging. Is this an AITA situation? Did I miss anything? Is this a subtle cultural/age/millennial-GenZ divide?
I'm still tired as FUCK, trying to get used to this new phone, and have a LOT of life admin to do suddenly after this whole weekend. If you have any thoughts or comments, whoever and wherever you are, feel free to say something.
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
The cleaner
part 1
(This is my first short story, so please be kind, but I would also love some feedback)
Some background information: You are a dropout from the military, you were looking for a much needed job. Somehow, you landed a gig cleaning. Now you are a cleaner who picks up after a bunch of smelly dudes. But it’s not all bad, you get paid fairly well and the company(?) that you work for has given you rent free accommodations. These are your adventures!
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! You wake up panicked, sitting up immediately only to find the source of the noise, your alarm clock. “Ugh”, you push the button to silence the alarm, while rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.
6:30AM was the time, it gave you enough time to get dressed, brush your teeth, eat, and anything else you needed to do before your shift started. As you looked in the mirror, putting your hair in a pony tail(or just pinning it up, if your hair is too short), you sighed “another day”. With one last look in the mirror, you headed out the door.
Getting to where you needed to work was no trouble, you literally had to walk across the gravel driveway and you were there. The company that hired you, gave you a little shack to stay in while your here. Not the nicest shack you’ve ever seen, but it had a bathroom, room for a bed, and a mini fridge. Which is more then most shacks have.
You’ve been working here for almost 2 weeks now, your still getting adjusted to the job, while the men that your cleaning up after, are getting adjusted with your presence. You haven’t talked to them a bunch, but you know they are an odd group, to say the least. there are 9 of them, some are fairly clean and even give you a hand with work, while others… less so.
As you make it inside the building, you look down at your check list that you carry around. “Let’s see here…garage has been done, all of the lower floor has been done, mmm. I guess all there is to do is clean the kitchen, sweep, mop the floors, and vacuum any rugs. Ok seems pretty low key for a Thursday, sweet!” You click your pen and get started with your day.
Threw out the day you have managed to clean the mess that was the kitchen, sweep and mop most of the rooms, with only a few more to go, and it isn’t even 1pm yet. You were on a role!
Currently you were vacuuming a rug that was located in what you would call, the living room. Mindlessly vacuuming, zoning out thinking about who knows what, when suddenly the vacuum stops. “Uh?” You try turning the vacuum off and on, nothing happens. “Please don’t tell me this thing just died on me!” Your eyes follow the wire of the vacuum to where you plugged it in, only to find a VERY large man standing there, with the end of the cord in his hand. ‘Holy fuck!’
The man was tall, like fucking ridiculous tall. He was more on the bigger side for body types, but you could tell it wasn’t just water weight, this man could knock the shit out of you if he wanted.
You started to sweat slightly “…can I help you?”. This guy did not look friendly, he wore a scowl on his face and is looking down at you as if you have done something wrong.
“You go on break now.”
Baffled, unsure you heard him correctly, “pardon?”
“You go on break now.” He says once more, with a thick Russian accent.
“Oh…OH! No, I’m ok, I’m just gonna finish up, then I’ll be done for the day.”
“No, you take break.” He insists, well not really insists more demands it, but yeah.
“No really, I’m almost done, won’t take anytime at all!”, you try to say without coming off as rude. ‘Let me do my job big scary man, and then you won’t have to see me for the rest of the day!!!’
“I make sandwiches.”, He blurts out.
….
“What?”
“I make sandwiches, you take break and eat.”
‘…well that was unexpected. I thought this guy just hated my guts, but he actually might be nice?’
“Oh….ok, I guess I can take a quick break, couldn’t hurt.” You say as you place the vacuum to the side.
“Good.” The giant starts to turn around and walk towards to kitchen/dining area, you follow.
as your walking, your trying to remember the name of this giant. When you first started working here, you had gotten a small introduction to the 9 men, but it was short, and names were never your thing. ‘What was it again? Henry? No that isn’t it… hoovey? Heavy? Heavy!’ As you both make it to the kitchen, there’s a table in the corner with a plate stacked with sandwiches, like atleast 25. A crazy amount of sandwiches, but maybe he made some for everybody? ‘Aw, that’s kinda sweet.’
As you sit down, heavy grabs you a plate and napkin. He doesn’t sit, “I go get everybody else.”
“Oh, ok”, as heavy walks away you grab a sandwich and place it on your place. ‘Should I wait for everyone else to get here? Heavy didn’t say anything about not eating right away.’ As your staring at the sandwich, you realize your gonna be in a room full of guys you don’t really know that well. Your anxiety is starting to set in, you’ve never been great at socializing, you start to tear at your napkin to try and sooth your social anxiety.
Suddenly out no where a bunch of guys basically run in to the kitchen, some grab a plate and sit down, while others grab one or two sandwiches and leave immediately, assuming to return to whatever they were doing before heavy told them about food.
“So your the newbie, eh?”, You look up to who spoke, it was a guy with a hard hat on and some goggles. He wore overalls that were stained with oil.
"er, yup. Well kinda, I’m just a cleaner.”, You shrug, as you reach for your sandwich.
“Well I’m engineer or engie, for short, just incase you forgot. Thanks for all the work you’ve done so far.” Engineer says with a smile, ‘what’s with all the weirdly specific names?’.
“Ja! I don’t think this place has looked better!” You turn to the man with the German accent. He has black hair, round glasses, and is wearing a doctor uniform. ‘I know his name starts with a M, so his name isn’t doctor….um mmm me- medic!’
“Well thank you, I try!” You say bashfully.
“Well I’m heading back to work, got this new blueprint I’ve been planning” engineer says, as he grabs a sandwich on his way out.
Now that engineer has left the room, there’s only 4 people in the room, including yourself.
Medic, was sitting across from you, while heavy was sitting beside him. Then there was a guy in a suit wearing a ski mask sitting to the right of you. ‘I have no fucking clue what his name could be. I wouldn’t even be able to guess, theif? Sketchy jewelry salesman?’
You start eating your sandwich, trying to avoid eye contact ‘this sandwich is actually pretty good!’
“So Y/N,” you hear medic say, you freeze and look up at him from across the table.
“How are handling your living arrangements? If you need anything fixed in that old shack of yours engineer can fix it for you!”
You swallow your bite of food “oh! It’s ok, I don’t need anything fixed. It’s got everything that I need, can’t complain.”
“I’m surprised you were ok living in a shack in the first place.” You hear a French voice to your right. It’s the guy that looks like a sketchy jewellery salesman.
“If I was you, I would have asked to be placed within the building itself, it’s not like we don’t have room” he continues. 
“Aw well, i’m sure your company just wanted to make sure it was kept professional is all.” You say nervously.
“I suppose…” He replies, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket.
‘I gotta get out of here!’
Before anyone else can put a another word in, or have to wait another minute in awkward silence, you take one last bite of your sandwich and stand up. “Well, I better be getting back to work! Thank you for the food heavy.”
Heavy nods and sort of grumbles in a thank you tone, as he scarfs down his 4th sandwich.
You put your plate in the sink, feeling a little guilty cause you just cleaned the kitchen, and now you might have to do it once more today.
“Don’t worry about the kitchen, we’ll clean up when we’re done!” Medic says from across the room. ‘He must have seen my conflicted face.’
“Oh, are you sure? it is my job to clean” you stress.
“Ja, I know you already cleaned to kitchen, the least we could do he deal with our own dishes.”
“Ok well, if your sure.”
You walk out of the kitchen to continue the list of chores you must do.
For the rest of the day, it doesn’t take you long to finish up. You put away all the cleaning supplies, and head outside to your shack.
On your free time you doodle in your sketch book, write down the names of your acquaintances, so hopefully you will remember next time and just chill.
You go to bed early so you can wake up early tomorrow to clean some more.

Ok! That’s part 1! How did I do??
I have no idea where I am going with this story, I just know I’ve been itching to write this. So if anyone has any ideas, I’d love to hear them
#tf2 x reader#slow burn#tf2#tf2 spy#tf2 medic#tf2 heavy#tf2 engineer#tf2 x you#short story#tf2 heavy x reader#tf2 medic x reader#tf2 engineer x reader#part 1#team fortress two#my writing
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
On This Day in F1: March 1st
Present: Bahrain Day 2
History: 1992 Giovanna Amati Attempts to Qualify for the South African GP
On March 1st, Bahrain hosted free practice 3 and qualifying.
We begin the season almost exactly where we left off with the top 3 finishers of the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix qualifying for the top 3 in Bahrain — Max Verstappen, Charles Leclerc, and George Russell
The provisional starting grid is:
March 1st also marks the beginning of Women’s History Month so we go back to 1992 when Italian driver, Giovanna Amati, made the first of her three attempts to qualify for a Formula 1 World Championship race.
Though unsuccessful in qualifying , Amati is the most recent woman to enter an F1 race. She is also the fifth woman to do so.
The 1992 South African Grand Prix was the first race in South Africa following the end of Apartheid and the opener for the season.
Amati made her Formula 1 debut at the race with the Brabham team. She was the first female F1 driver since South African Desiré Wilson entered the 1980 British Grand Prix with Brands Hatch Racing.
Amati was one of five drivers to not qualify for the South African Grand Prix. Of the 30 entrants, Amati was last on the timing sheets and almost 9 seconds behind Nigel Mansell, who got pole position for the race.
Giovanna Amati’s Formula 1 career lasted for two more races after the South African before she was replaced by the team’s test driver, Damon Hill. Damon Hill only qualified for two races during the season and it was widely considered a bad year for the Brabham team.
On her time with Brabham, Amati said:
“I had all the interest on me because I was the only woman in the championship but with that car I couldn’t perform. Brabham at that time had a lack of sponsors and a lack of budget. My engine was leaking oil, water, everything, and when I asked to change it there were no spare parts. So it was difficult, and all the other cars were performing much better than ours. I couldn’t qualify with that car and the problem was that they didn’t give me another chance afterwards.”
Her motorsport career did not end with Formula 1. Amati entered the Porsche SuperCup in 1993 and won the Women’s European Championship. She’s participated in the Ferrari Challenge, 12 Hours of Sebring, and the SportsRacing World Cup.
——
Previous: Feb. 29th — 1932 Masten Gregory is Born
Next: Mar. 2nd — Bahrain Grand Prix
On This Day in F1 Masterlist
The Bahrain Grand Prix is on the 2nd, but so is Qatar 1812 km for WEC. It starts at 2:30am for the US east coast and has a 10 hour time limit. It’s available on Max in the US if you have the live sports subscription. The broadcast information can be found here if anyone wants to see where they can watch: Qatar 1812 km.
The Iron Dames are participating.
#on this day in f1#formula 1#f1#max verstappen#charles leclerc#george russell#f1 history#Giovanna Amati#bahrain grand prix#women in f1#women in motorsport
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
🎇Please reblog!🎇
Comment your favorite bridges from Speak Now and Red!
Notable Bridges (Under the Cut)
Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)
Enchanted
This is me praying that
This was the very first page
Not where the storyline ends
My thoughts will echo your name
Until I see you again
These are the words I held back
As I was leaving too soon
I was enchanted to meet you
Please, don't be in love with someone else
Please, don't have somebody waiting on you
Please, don't be in love with someone else (Ooh)
Please, don't have somebody waiting on you (Ooh, oh)
Dear John
You are an expert at sorry and keeping lines blurry
Never impressed by me acing your tests
All the girls that you've run dry have tired lifeless eyes
'Cause you burned them out
But I took your matches before fire could catch me
So don't look now
I'm shining like fireworks over your sad empty town
Oh, oh
Back to December
I miss your tanned skin, your sweet smile
So good to me, so right
And how you held me in your arms that September night
The first time you ever saw me cry
Maybe this is wishful thinkin'
Probably mindless dreaming
But if we loved again, I swear I'd love you right
I'd go back in time and change it, but I can't
So, if the chain is on your door, I understand
Long Live
Hold on to spinning around
Confetti falls to the ground
May these memories break our fall
Will you take a moment? Promise me this
That you'll stand by me forever
But if, God forbid, fate should step in
And force us into a goodbye
If you have children some day
When they point to the pictures
Please, tell 'em my name
Tell 'em how the crowds went wild
Tell 'em how I hope they shine
Long live the walls we crashed through
I had the time of my life with you
Mine
And I remember that fight, 2:30AM
As everything was slipping right out of our hands
I ran out crying and you followed me out into the street
Braced myself for the goodbye
'Cause that's all I've ever known
Then you took me by surprise
You said, "I'll never leave you alone"
Red (Taylor’s Version)
All Too Well
Well, maybe we got lost in translation
Maybe I asked for too much
But maybe this thing was a masterpiece
'Til you tore it all up
Running scared, I was there
I remember it all too well
And you call me up again
Just to break me like a promise
So casually cruel in the name of being honest
I'm a crumpled up piece of paper lying here
'Cause I remember it all, all, all
Too well
Treacherous
Two headlights shine through the sleepless night
And I will get you, get you alone
Your name has echoed through my mind
And I just think you should, think you should know
That nothing safe is worth the drive
And I would follow you, follow you home
I'll follow you, follow you home
State of Grace
This is a state of grace
This is the worthwhile fight
Love is a ruthless game
Unless you play it good and right
These are the hands of fate
You’re my Achilles heel
This is the golden age
Of something good and right and real
Begin Again
And we walked down the block to my car
And I almost brought him up
But you start to talk about the movies
That your family watches every single Christmas
And I wanna talk about that
And for the first time, what's past is past
We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together
I used to think that we were forever, ever
And I used to say, "Never say never"
Ugh, so he calls me up and he's like, "I still love you"
And I'm like, "I just, I mean, this is exhausting, you know?
Like, we are never getting back together, like, ever"
youtube
youtube
11 notes
·
View notes
Note
So we know about the darker, realistic parts of your fic, but how about the softer, more loving parts? As in, what parts do you like, and what parts do you want to see more of?
ASFFHJKLFKHLDKL I could go on and on about this, but I had to cut the monologue short(er) bc it's 2:30am and I gotta go to bed lol
Let me preface by saying some of my own favorite moments between the characters haven't been published yet.. 🔥👀 So stay tuned~
As for the General stuff:
The main thing I love about the series in general, and bake into CGaL is how much those cats love each other but not only that, they're loved by many in their neighborhood as well.
People can sigh and moan about their antics all day, but there's a sense of community amongst the residents of Precinct 13. And they ain't gonna take some punkass criminals harming their communal cats lyin' down.
I have a lotta fun reading old articles and interviews on TC because everyone always agrees on how soft-hearted T.C. remains in spite of everything. Of course I think everyone’s entitled to write these characters in their stories however they interpret them but like, I'll admit there’ll be this part of me who’ll side-eye anyone who writes T.C. as 'mean' by default because I have no idea where they got that from lol XD The gang owns him. And Benny's the best one at approaching him especially with the Big Asks that they know he'll keep rejecting until he eventually cracks.
T.C.'s both intelligent and likable, a deadly combo if he was THAT kinda guy. And unlike many other cats in the city, he can survive on his own. He technically doesn’t really need other cats on the long run. But that’s not what the gang’s about for him. He’d probably get things done a lot faster by himself and he'd be super light but he’s ridiculously soft for his boys. They make plans more complex and they're literally dependent on him but they're everything to him.
(Side note, it’s both extremely funny and extremely endearing to me how the first thing T.C. will do for anyone joining the group is to feed them. Literally. He’ll make a fine Italian grandma one day )
In spite of everything, T.C. genuinely likes Dibble and considers him a part of their lives, and someone ‘replacing’ him is out of the question, like the situation with Prowler. Anyone badmouthing Dibble is a walking red flag and is immediately on T.C.'s list of 'snakes'.
It's what Dibble does and represents that complicates things. T.C. flouts the law and sees it as a blind tool that only makes some people stronger and others more invisible and forgotten. Dibble has to be professional, unbiased and do his job with integrity, but boy, is it hard sometimes. He can't help but love the gang almost to the point of irrationality and it's thanks to his great reputation that his more astute colleagues don't hold this over his head or take advantage of it.
Needless to say, Dibble doesn't have the same hang-ups as T.C., and is much more open with his emotions.
As the story progresses, it'll become clearer that life on the streets shaped T.C. and G.P. very differently. One’s greatest desire is to have a close family and live freely, and the other’s is to never have to feel invisible and powerless again
Some Specific moments:
G.P. didn't truly get it, what it does to T.C. when he threatened Spook's life. Happened in Chapter 6, will probably happen again later at a worse scale, because by then he knows how much it affects him
T.C. and Benny's closeness, physically and emotionally especially during the hospital stay
Although not mentioned outright in the story, T.C. absolutely loves Tony's elderly parents. Staying with the man at the family home for a month also just massively grew his affection for Tony
Tony's photo of the gang
Dibble and T.C. on the bridge. Dibble growing even more fond of T.C. and genuinely wanting to understand where he comes from
T.C. absolutely NOT having it when Saber tried to drag Spook's name into a murder he didn't commit. He was pissed, knowing a dozen cops were listening in on the other side of the window
With both Spook and Choo Choo gone, and him blowing up at Fancy, T.C. feels an obligation to keep it together, for Benny and Brain, but the stress and the feeling of powerlessness was becoming debilitating. Dibble had to hold up a mirror to his face metaphorically speaking to show him how he was cracking under the pressure and not really helping anyone. T.C. couldn’t deny it any longer and had to accept his help
And you Anon, what parts do you like or want to see more of?
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
So the gallery opening last night? It went so well omggg!!
There was such a good turn out! So many people showed up! I even saw people taking photos of my piece! And got complimented on my outfit lol (brown crop sweater, low cut beige long sleeve crop shirt, black jeans, grommet belt, celestial earrings to match my tattoo, and hair down, felt very cute so glad I got noticed lol). My friend seemed to have fun, he asked me some art questions and was talking about different things he liked/didn't like in some pieces. He even stopped at one point when I was talking about a painting I liked there and said that I looked really happy. Flustered me a bit lol, but I genuinely was really happy. Finally being able to attend a gallery opening that I'm a part of, seeing the great turn out, seeing all the work in the show, seeing people appreciate my work, being with someone I care about and feeling comfortable being open and myself with them. Like it honestly surpassed everything I wanted ... like I was just genuinely so so happy.
After the reception ended, the night turned really dreamy lol. We started to explore the rest of the building looking at what else was there. There was a lot of other smaller art shows going on that we talked about, and then we started talking about personal stuff and bonded more through that, and THEN ... we found an auditorium where some kind of show was going on. We snuck in and caught a piano performance of Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue - one of my favorite jazz pieces!! It was honestly really magical. It's one of my absolute favorites and I've never seen it performed live! And we almost missed it! Only found it from sneaking around!
After the pianist finished, all the other performers came on stage during the applause and a kid dressed up as a king with a crown, cape, and scepter and said "I have something to say. I knight this night to be a good night". Then the lights came on and everyone in the audience started to leave. It was so cute!
Then we left the building and started to walk around outside just chatting. Got to show him this adorable mural I found when dropping the work off. Also found an adorable public art piece sculpture of a hare using an old timey film camera. Gave him the madelines after we found it and he ate them while we kept walking around. He said they were really good and agreed the earl grey was very subtle lol.
We eventually ubered back to his place a few hours after the show ended and kept chatting and just hanging out. He made us some virgin cocktails and then we went to his room and watched part of a gaming livestream and listened to music. It was really strange, honestly, and I even said that to him. It's so similar to how my problem friend and I would chill after a night out - make drinks, chat, listen to music, watch dumb videos - but it felt really nice. It was a bit strange to be doing that with someone else, but in a good way. If I'm being fully honest, even before all the problems started with my problem friend, I would only be able to really put up with doing that for a few hours before I'd start wishing she would stop playing stuff and just start to get ready for bed. Always assumed it was just from being drunk tired. But doing essentially the same thing last night with someone new fully sober, both of us, after a night where I genuinely felt safe and comfortable and like I could be open about things I find interesting and care about - art - and have that be appreciated rather than shut down because the person I'm with doesn't give a shit ... like I don't even know what to say. That's what I mean by the night turned dreamy, like I was so genuinely happy.
He had plans in the morning, so I left his place around 12:30am. He said he loved me as a friend in person when I was leaving and I said the same thing back, which is a bit scary because I've only ever said that to 2 people before: my puppy and my problem friend. And now I've said it to someone new after a night very similar but like ... not (?) to how my time would be spent with my problem friend. Said it without thinking, too, so that's been interesting to process today lol.
Then I went back to the house and made some tea and ate spoonfuls of peanut butter after fasting 18 hours lol. Didn't track the cals and honestly don't feel upset about it. I wish I stayed with him longer but I didn't want to overstay my welcome and ruin things, and I could tell he was tired.
Like it was honestly kind of a perfect day.
2 notes
·
View notes