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cass-windfeild · 13 days ago

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Star stable Creepypasta: Staring Horse

At last, my sso creepypasta is complete! Sorry it took a while, work and Halloween preparation got in the way. But, as promised, it is ready for Halloween!

As stated before, this isnt going to be anything spectacular. Ive never written anything horror related before, and while I tried to do my own thing, I was mostly inspired by creepypastas like Ben Drowned, Sonic.exe, and lot of WildCraft creepypastas Ive been listening to. Its also mostly just a very edited first draft. This was more or less a test of my skills.

As a warning, there is no gore or blood in this, however there is a description of a pretty messed up horse model that may or may not be considered body horror, as well as mentions of a possible mental break? Not 100% sure, but I want to cover my bases.

Without further adieu, enjoy.

And Happy Halloween!

I've never really been obsessed with video games.

That's not to say I don't like them, or even that I don't play them. I game quite a bit in my free time, from action packed first person shooters, to emotional story driven games, even relaxing farming and life simulators. I've always tried to be open to all kinds of games. However, the issue is I never seem to stay interested. I tend to hyperfocus on specific games for weeks, even months at a time, and then, eventually, I just put it down one day, and don't come back. I just tend to lose interest, be it in the story, the mechanics, the characters. I just get bored and move on to new things.

Except for one game.

Star Stable Online. An open world MMORPG horse game where you can create a character, buy horses of varying breeds, coat colours, and patterns, train your horses in races or a variety of other disciplines, talk with friends, join clubs, dress up your character and horses, and complete story quests to save the world and learn about the island. Everything an equine crazed individual like myself could ask for in a horse game. Out of all the games I played in my life, Star Stable was the one that seemed to have a constant grip on my psyche.

It started out as just a way to finally unleash my love of horses, an obsession that had started as a child and only increased in my late teens, without shame or judgement. But over time, it became so much more. It became my comfort. My way to cope with all trials and tribulations of everyday life. No matter how mentally straining school was, how exhausting work was, or how bad my mental state was at any given time, so long as I had wifi, my laptop, and the will to stay awake into the dead of night, I had my escape. I could let my mind wander to a world where I wasn't alone or stressed. Where there was no homework that made me feel like I was going insane, no entitled or argumentative customers, no overbearing managers. Just me and my horses exploring the island of Jorvik, saving the world from evil organisations and dark magic, and living peacefully, knowing the real world couldn't hurt us here.

At least, until recently.

In the game, there are certain areas of the game that are closed off, having both invisible and physical walls around them to prevent players from getting in. They're either areas that aren't done yet, or ones that just never ended up opening up. Not that that stopped anyone though. If there's any area people know they're not supposed to go, they're gonna do everything in their power to get there. This is usually done through knowing the layout of the land, knowing what steps to take, and, often, getting a bit creative. There's countless tutorials online of how to get into closed off areas. Some are no longer working due to patches in the game, but finding one that still works is never too difficult. On days when there are no quests or special events, and training starts to feel repetitive, I've taken to testing these glitches and seeing just how efficient they are. I've glitched into Ashland, Devils Gap, Marchengast Castle, Cape Point, the typical areas that seem of interest to players. I even started trying the techniques in other areas to see if I could glitch myself somewhere no one had seen yet, though my efforts have so far seemed to be in vain.

Late one night, I was attempting to glitch into Mystic valley, like I had before, in hopes of getting some nice photos. I jumped out of the Secret Stone Circle and fell into the purple haze as usual, when I heard a familiar whinny, followed by a black screen with the text “Your horse was badly hurt.”. Great. I must've messed something up, I figured.I waited for my screen to return, expecting I'd be transported back to my home stable and have to start the glitch all over again. But to my surprise, when it did, I was in the Mystic Valley, as though I'd successfully made the fall, only, the area was now covered in a thick fog, like when you entered the Mirror Marshes.

I suspected that it was a glitch, or maybe the area had been updated. Hoping to find something new, I rode around a bit, checking all the edges and open space of the area. But after around 15 minutes running around and bumping into invisible walls, I still found that everything seemed normal. Just the same old rolling hills, sparsely placed bushes and trees, and occasional unfinished textures. After a while, I grew bored, and just started looking for some nice photo spots instead. But as I rode past an indented area in the mountain, I saw something I hadn't before. Something white amongst the trees and shrubs that was just barely visible through the fog. A horse. A grey horse with a black mane, standing perfectly still near the base of the mountain.

I had seen plenty of unused or work in progress models hidden in supposedly unreachable areas to keep them out of sight from players, and although I'd never seen one in Mystic Valley before, that's what I suspected it was. Possibly a new NPC horse or even an unreleased breed or colour the developers had been testing. I tried to get closer to see it better, but was blocked by an invisible wall that hadn't been there the last time I visited. Of course, they had to block off the most interesting thing in the area. I tried a few times to pass the wall, but no matter the angle or area, my horse halted and reared in refusal. I was giving up hope of getting any closer, so I resorted to just taking a photo and zooming in as much as possible. I got off my horse in the slim hope that I could get a little closer for a better angle. Only, this time, the wall didn't stop me. My horse couldn't pass, but I could walk on foot as close as I wanted. It was odd, but I wasnt about to question it.

I started approaching, but the closer I got, the more I realised how odd this horse looked. It didn't look like any breed of horse in the game, or like any breed I knew of. Everything looked… wrong. Like a bunch of different horses merged into one. Its legs were thin and long like a saddlebred, but its body was thick and wide like an ardennes or Jorvik wild horse. Its neck looked like that of the friesian, but it was bent down at an odd angle, like its head was being forcefully pulled against its chest. Its long, dark mane looked twisted and tangled, like a longer version of the mustangs. But what was the most disturbing was its face. It looked like it meant to be shaped like an Arabian, but the eyes were all… wrong. They were angled far more forward than they should have been, placing them more on the front of the face than more to the sides. Not only that, but the eyes themselves looked inverted, making it appear as though there were instead two hollowed out sockets in their place. Even the shading made it seem as though that was the original intent. Everything about this horse was downright creepy. Why the hell would SSE make something like this?

I decided to take a picture and see if anyone online knew anything about this eerie horse or if they had any idea why it looked like this. I pressed the photo button, but the second I entered photo mode, the horse vanished as though it wasn't even there. Was SSO so determined to hide this thing that they even hid it from the photo mode?

Not wanting to leave without evidence of this thing, I resorted to screenshots, taking a few photos before clicking out of the game to check the folder. But when I did, what I saw made no sense. In every screenshot I took, I saw my character, the area, the fog, even my own horse in some shots… but not the NPC horse. How was that even possible? The screenshots weren't in game, they should have just captured what was on the screen. I clicked back to the game to try again, but completely froze.

The horse had moved. It's neck twisted at a harsh angle, as though it had been broken in half. Its previously hollow indents of eyes now had two small pinpricks of light at their centre, barely big enough to make out. And with those tiny dots that made up its eyes, it started.

It started at me.

Not my character.

Me.

Have you ever had someone stare at you so intensely that, even if you had your back to them, you could feel it? Like an almost primal instinct kicks in to warn you that there's danger and to prepare to defend yourself. The moment you notice, you get this split second where your body freezes up, and everything around you goes numb except for that feeling of a pair of eyes. That's what I felt when I saw that things eyes staring back into mine through my computer screen. Those hollow eyes felt as though it was staring straight through to my very soul, making my blood run cold. I wanted to move, to scream, to do anything, but I felt frozen in place, as though that things cold, unblinking stare had me trapped. As I stared, I began to hear the faintest sound in the back of my mind. Almost like a raspy, gargled breathing. The longer it stared, the louder the sound got, slowly becoming the only thing I could hear. As though, even without moving, it was drawing closer.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I managed to snap out of my frozen state, quickly slamming my laptop shut, not even caring in the moment if it broke. The second I did, everything stopped, and I found myself gasping for air despite not even realising I had been holding my breath. My eyes flickered around the room, instinctually looking around the room for danger. After a few minutes, I managed to calm myself down a bit. My body trembled as I became drenched in a cold sweat, and questions ran through my mind faster than I could even process any kind of answer.

What the fuck was all that? Why did it feel like that thing was actually staring at me? Like it was actually in my room? What was that messed up breathing sound? Why was that disturbing thing in a game targeted at kids? What the hell was going on? The questions, as well as the lingering adrenaline and paranoia of what just happened, kept me up the rest of the night. My eyes cautiously scanned the darkness, as though that thing would creep around the corner at any moment, until sunlight finally poured in the windows of my room.

I went about my day in an exhausted haze, still mulling over what happened as I tried to find a logical answer. I just couldn't stop thinking about it. Was it a glitched horse model? Or a new scare tactic to keep people from glitching into areas they weren't supposed to, like the old anti-pirating screens of old video games? Maybe even an early model of a new Halloween horse? But why was I so freaked out by it? It was just a pixelated horse in a video game, but when it stared at me, it felt so terrifyingly real, like it would crawl out of the screen or even like it was already in the room with me. Maybe I was just tired from staying up late so often, and I was starting to become paranoid because of it?

The more I thought it over, the more I managed to convince myself. Of course it wasn't staring at me. It was probably just a glitch. Just a bunch of pixels on a screen. It wasn't real. Hell, maybe it wasn't even as scary looking as I thought. My brain was probably just experiencing hallucinations from lack of sleep. That had to be it, right?

Besides, even if that thing was real and as scary as I thought, I wasn't going to let it stop me from playing my favourite game.

That night, after I had dinner and finished my homework, I turned on my computer (which, thankfully, was not broken from the rough treatment last night), and logged on to Star stable again. As I waited for the site to load, I couldn't help but wonder. What if it was real? What if I loaded into Mystic Valley again, and that thing was still there? What if I froze up again? I pushed the feeling away. I had already left the lights on to ease this ridiculous fear, I wasn't backing down. It was just a stupid creepy horse in a video game. It was fake. I was safe. The game opened with the familiar welcoming ring, and I was thankful to see I was back in front of my home stable, and there was no glitched NPC horse anywhere to be seen. I sighed in relief. It was all just in my mind.

I spent the next few hours training my lower level horse, completing race after race as I made my way across the map like always. I even competed in a few championships, despite being one of the only people online at that time of night. However, I couldn't shake this eerie feeling. Everything was normal, but I kept feeling as though I wasn't alone. Like there was always someone or something watching me from just out of my line of sight, and whenever I looked around, it would disappear. I tried to ignore it, telling myself it was my imagination or that I was still just anxious from everything.

At around 4 am, I had finished all the races and decided to call it a night. I called for pickup, and went to enter my stable. But after a few seconds of loading, I noticed something. There was no image of Maya walking through the stable to take care of the horses. Just a pitch black screen with no text. At first, I thought my computer had frozen, and I begrudgingly waited for the “Star Stable.EXE has stopped working” pop up. But, after a minute or so, the loading finished, and I was standing inside the stable. Only, my horse was gone. All of my horses were gone. Was my game crashing? I looked around briefly before clicking the stable button to see where my horse went.

What I saw made my breath catch in my throat. In place of every icon that was meant to be one of my horses was instead replaced by that same, deformed face of that horse, staring back at me with those dark, soulless eyes. And where my horses names should have been, was instead my name. My real name.

How was that even possible? I never used my real name anywhere on star stable, or anywhere online for that matter. I exited the stable menu, and there it was. That mangled, horrifying thing standing in the stable aisle staring at me. I felt my body tense, but I refused to let that thing trap me again. It's not real, I told myself. It's a glitch. That's all.

I pressed the exit button to quit the game, but nothing happened. I kept pressing, but no menu appeared. I started to panic as I heard the distorted breathing begin again, and as it did, I watched in horror as the horse's jaw slowly unhinged, stretching down towards the ground, revealing a set of sharp, fang-like teeth that lined its jaw. I felt its eyes burn into me, like a predator sizing up its prey before going for its throat. This wasn't in my head. This wasn't just a glitch. Whatever this thing was, it was real, it was sentient, and it wanted me. I kept clicking every button I could think of to get the game to close, but still, nothing worked. Even when I finally had enough and slammed my laptop closed again, I could still hear those tortured breaths getting louder and louder in my head. I covered my ears and closed my eyes, begging it to stop, to just go away, but still it persisted till I couldn't even hear my own panicked heartbeat over it.

I was about to scream out of pure fear and desperation when all of a sudden, it stopped. Just as quickly as the breathing had begun, it stopped, leaving me in the silence of my room. I sat motionless for a few moments before slowly opened my eyes, tears threatening to fall as I looked frantically around the room for any sign of danger, but all I saw was my lit bedroom and my computer all but tossed off my lap, teetering near the edge of the bed.

Was it over? Was that thing gone? I sat as still as possible for the longest time, as though waiting for something, anything to happen, but still, nothing. After what felt like hours, I mustered up the courage to reach for my computer. I had to know. Just a quick peak to make sure it was off and that that thing wouldn't come for me. Slowly, I lifted the screen, just enough that I could see the light of the screen.

Nothing.

Inch by inch, I opened the laptop fully, only to be met with a black screen. A sigh escaped me as I confirmed the computer had powered itself off after being closed. So long as I didn't log on to the game, that thing couldn't possibly get me.

But as moved to close it, my eyes caught sight of my reflection in the darkness of the screen.

And I saw it.

In the reflection was that long, grey, mangled face with its dead, hollow eyes staring motionless at me from the shadows, its jaw still unhinged like a snake.

The next thing I remember was my parents rushing into my room as I screamed bloody murder, thrashing violently as I tried to get away from that thing. They practically had to restrain me to get me to finally calm down. I cried in their arms as they frantically pushed for answere to figure out what had happened. When I tried to explain, they chalked it up to a night terror brought on by stress. The more I tried to insist it was real, the more they assured me it wasn't. I only stopped insisting when they started suggesting getting me psychological help and the idea that I was having a mental breakdown. I knew no one would believe me. Even if I got proof, what could they really do about any of this anyway?

It's been months since I last played Star Stable Online. Even the thought of logging on makes me feel anxiety build up in my chest. I want so desperately to have things back to the way they were. To just log on and forget the world again. And yet, I know that I never will. That thing didn't just traumatize me. It stole a part of me. It stole my comfort. My escape from the world. It stole that sense of peace and safety, a part of me I will never get back.

What's worse, it stole my sense of reasoning. I tried researching what I saw and asking around the community. I even emailed Star Stable Entertainment themselves, just hoping for any kind of answer, and still got nothing. I dont have an explanation for what happened or why it affected me so much.

I can't explain why it chose me, or how it was able to do what it did.

I can't explain why I still see it, or why it almost appears to be getting a bit closer everytime I see it in the corner of my eye.

I can't explain why every night since, the moment I start to fall asleep, I hear those same, horrid, gasping breaths in my ears, getting louder and louder.

And, no matter how hard I try, I can never explain why Ive started feeling a cold rush of air run down my neck in time with each breath.

#sso #star stable #star stable online #star stable creepypasta

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katetorias · 3 days ago

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Hi :D

Sorry for the anon ask, I'm too shy to ask on your Instagram story whenever you do a qna. I've been wondering what it feels like to be (part of) a system. I can't quite imagine what that must be like and I'm just super curious about it

One of my most burning questions has been: how does it feel to just come into existence as a new alter? You said that Prom is still a fairly new addition and I honestly can't imagine what that must feel like and how someone wouldn't know they were a system after that.

Also how does it feel to be an alter that isn't the host? Does it feel shitty to not be out as much and to be considered "somebody's alter" instead of their own person?

Feel free to ignore this if you're uncomfortable with it. Also love your art of you and your fiancé, so cute!!

since systems are formed due to the unique trauma the specific system went through, we can only really talk on our experiences. since people react to trauma differently, systems (an extreme trauma response), all form differently and have different ways they fit into the diagnostic criteria for these disorders.

im going to answer your question in a long format below^^

• for context: we are bodily 22, and we've been receiving psych care since we were around 11/12. our therapeutic progress has always been stagnant because after we left the situation we were in, we had almost completely blocked out everything that happened. so we had nothing to tell our therapists and we didn't feel comfortable talking with them. we were often dissociated and would just answer questions shortly while staring at the ground instead of engaging.

because of our lack of progress/seeming lack of effort, our mom stopped taking us to therapy and psychiatrist appointments. she thought it was a waste of time and probably saw our mental illness as misbehaving/not caring enough to try to be happy. this kept us from having proper psych care for years. we would occasionally get called to the counselor's office in school and at some point we had to start missing school for therapy again. college had us losing that support and flunking out because of the dissociation/suicidality. we only finally got access to meds after i had to go outpatient, and we've been with our therapist since.

• how we didn’t notice: due to this we had no knowledge that our experiences weren't normal. our mental health has been neglected for years and we had no way of knowing what was happening with us because we had no basis as to understand. we have a gap in our memory from a little after we left our situation to early high school. our friend always says we knew each other in middle school and talked, but we don't remember enough of those years. amnesia can show up in a lot of different ways. we've only experienced two noticeable black outs, the rest is gradual. not remembering things soon after they happened, being told we said things we didn't remember saying, being unable to describe important events in our lives, vaguely knowing what happened but not remembering the experience.

• on forming: When I (Prompto) formed, we had just flunked out of college and were forced to start working. Me and my fiancé were just starting our relationship and were playing my source. My source was a fat child who experienced bullying and parental neglect, being left alone and friendless for years, feeling like he has to change his weight to be liked. We really couldn't handle having a job. we were clinging and desperately coping by consuming my source. Eventually I started feeling like I was confusing things that happened in game with things that happened to me, and my real life memories from years, or even just months before didn't feel familiar. This was frightening, I would cry to Noctis about how I was feeling, how I couldn't remember anything before our road trip (event in source). But we didn't have any resources to explain, I thought I was being weird and childish.

Because of the stress of this job we had, I would spend most of our time in a heightened state, anxious or dreading the next days. Jack (who formed in our childhood to take care of us and our little brother when we’d be left alone) started resurfacing again after being gone for years. Our brain was trying to protect us, but I didn’t understand why I suddenly felt different. Sometimes it felt like I would just leave. I started being told that I was saying things I didn’t agree with again. Jack felt miserable trying to force himself to be me. This conflict and pain was the reason we ended up outpatient, and a few months after came to terms with the fact that we were a system.

• on what it’s like to not be the host: for us we don’t really refer to ourselves as “someone’s” alters since we don’t really have a collective identity (discounting the body we act like). I’ve been making an effort to accommodate everyone, and make sure we get the time we want in the body or just have things that are our own. (Making space for their things/interests. Setting times for specific people to have a chance to front)

This is Nathan’s perspective since he’s been fronting more often lately:

- I actually used to hate being an alter. i felt frustrated that I got torn away from my shitty life to just be part of someone else’s. I didn’t want to exist in the system at all. our body isn’t mine. im skinny and im covered in healing SH scars, and im not hairy and i have short hair, im cis. i used to hate fronting. I would actively wish i could just disappear. it didn’t seem like me being around was helping anyone. dissociation sucked and I would pick fights with our fiancé. im pretty much the only one of us who gets full flashbacks, and i fucking hate looking at stuff for my source online because everyone hates me. or ignores the story to justify hating me instead of just. hating me for what’s actually in source.

we talked with our therapist and eventually i started coming to therapy and she treated me like my own person. she made sure to create a distinction between my feelings about something and Prompto’s. she told me to create a thing i could do instead of be angry which is why i would usually front. Prompto put a lot of effort into making me feel comfortable. it’s like pri could tell how sensitive I actually am. pri designated a corner of our apartment to me and got me decorations pri thought i would like. i got to make my own instagram. It felt good to be myself. when i wasnt forcing myself to be prompto i felt more content. the more i could express myself as a person the easier it was to communicate with the system, i struggled less with memory and i think were less dissociated now than ever because prompto made such an effort to acknoledge us as our own selves.

sorry for the long answer but you asked so not sorry I guess lol. prompto probably had a better closing statement but I don’t really give a fuck. thx for the question

#ask #anon #rambles #osddid #system #sys talk #complex dissociative disorder #actually dissociative

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sneezefiction · 4 years ago

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of night owls & early birds

Kuroo x Reader

desc: Kuroo, your roommate and longtime best friend, likes you but he really dislikes your sleep schedule. alternatively, your crush gets up way too early and you “suffer the consequences.”

a/n: the irony of working on this fic at 5 am doesn’t escape me… but it also hasn’t assuaged my awful sleep patterns. i hope you enjoy!!

warnings: school/general anxiety, crass/offbeat humor (jokes about planning your own funeral), idk if you’re scared of love don’t read this - it’s very fluffy.

wc: 3.6k

--- You’re screwed, you think, as a light flickers on just outside of your room. It illuminates the carpet underneath your doorway with a warm orange tint.

And though it shouldn’t make your heart jump into your throat, it does.

You’d promised, swore to Kuroo, that you’d be asleep by 2 am - and to him, even that was a stretch. But he should count himself lucky that you’d even agreed to his demands at all.

After all, he is well-versed in the world of night owls.

Kenma, though maybe not your kindred spirit, shares at least a couple of qualities with you. Kuroo likes refer to these “qualities” as crimes.

One of these crimes (and quite possibly Kuroo’s least favorite) is your god-awful sleep schedule. And you’re a repeated offender.

There was only so much nagging and bickering you could take before you’d cracked and told exactly him what he wanted to hear. In a flurry of words, you’d agreed to turn off your laptop, close up your textbooks and actually put your head to a pillow.

You also may have been bribed.

To sweeten this deal, Kuroo had promised to buy you pizza this upcoming Friday, given that you actually did get some rest.

But as you reluctantly lift your phone, the glass screen glowing a little too brightly, you realize that it’s already 5:30 am.

You grimace.

It’s Tuesday morning. Meaning that the repetitive beeping across the hall is Kuroo’s alarm.

Your lips press into a firm line. Most birds don’t even get up at such a godless hour.

You can’t help but wonder what it’s like to have a functional morning routine. Or a morning routine at all.

Leaning back in your plastic desk chair, you squeeze your eyes shut.

It stings.

You probably got so caught up staring at the blob-like words on your computer screen that, somewhere in the process, your body had forgotten how to blink.

And while the tension in your neck and shoulders is painful, it’s nothing in comparison to the festering guilt of not listening to your longtime best friend and now roommate (a suspiciously well-intentioned college boy who had somehow managed to win your heart over the course of this fall semester.)

Thinking back, working on your final English assignment at midnight wasn’t the brightest of ideas. It wasn’t even due for another week. But as due dates loomed, the impending fear of a bad grade had begun to burrow deeply within you.

If you could just pump the brakes on deadline anxiety, you wouldn’t feel so pressured to type incoherent sentences at odd and empty hours of the night.

And maybe Kuroo wouldn’t feel the need to coerce you into a firmer sleep schedule. Though you do find this caring habit of his to be inexplicably endearing.

Thus, the prickling feeling continues to infiltrate your restless mind and the brewing concoction of anxiety and guilt in your tummy makes you feel uneasy.

But before you can sneak into bed and tuck yourself inconspicuously under the covers, you hear a floorboard creak.

As if on instinct, you hold in a breath.

Kuroo isn’t one to forget about little promises. Of course, he’d want to know if you’d made good on your side of the deal.

Gently, you close your laptop and swivel your chair to face the door. You still your movements, keeping your body taut against the back of your chair.

More soft steps fall just outside of your room.

Your eyes can’t pick a place to land, so they choose to wander. And with a quick scan of your room, it doesn’t take you long to realize that your bedside lamp had been left on - an instant giveaway.

You begin planning for your funeral.

However, if it were up to you, you wouldn’t go out this way. You prepare yourself for death by interrogation or shame-induced coma.

Regrettably, neither options seem very interesting to you. If you ask politely, maybe your friends will engrave a portion of an epic poem into your gravestone just to make your passing seem more sophisticated. Yeah, that sounds nice and pretentious.

Okay, you might be overdramatizing things - Kuroo would never send you to your grave. But that doesn’t change the fact that your psyche likes to play tricks on you in the wee hours of the morning and that the eerie quality of the atmosphere somehow reminds you of a cemetery.

As you sort through who-gets-what on your will, there’s a not so sudden knock on your door. The soft tap makes your heart skip for two reasons:

The first being that you still haven’t gotten used to the fluttering in your chest from him being present all the time. Developing a crush on him (and suspecting feeling on his side) had made you a little jumpier over the past few months.

And the second had to do with the fact that you were actually going to have to talk to him about this. To apologize for being a bold-faced liar. It wasn’t clear to you whether you’d be teased or reprimanded. And honestly? You’re not sure which option would feel worse.

So you take a breath and steel yourself.

“Y/n?” A gravelly voice sounds from outside your room.

It’s tainted with sleep. You shiver.

There’s a preemptive sigh, “C’mon y/n, your light is on. I know you’re awake.”

You’ve been caught, so there’s no point in prolonging it.

“...You can come in.” You reply meekly, clenching and unclenching your fists.

The door cracks open.

That soft orange hall light floods into your room and directly into your eyes. With a squint, you try to fully visualize Kuroo. He’s positioned himself so that he’s leaning in your doorway with his arms crossed.

Before coming to grips with the situation, you scan the boy up and down. Amusingly, you realize that he has to duck his head just to fit underneath the door header - he really is tall. You have to wonder if he’ll ever stop growing.

Aside from his intensified bedhead (which doesn’t shock you) and the sleepiness in his eyes, he looks normal. But you must look positively spooked, because the moment he sees you, there’s a flicker of humor in his golden eyes… and an almost invisible smirk.

At least he isn’t angry. That fact alone allows you to let out the breath you’ve been holding in. Anger isn’t really a trait you’d ascribe to him anyway.

“It’s funny…” He wonders aloud, “I thought we’d agreed to something yesterday.” Kuroo brings a mocking hand to his chin in a thinking motion.

Your body naturally begins to shrink into your seat. You want to sigh, protest, explain yourself… anything to keep him from lecturing you. But, technically, you deserve this.

“I’m pretty sure you promised me you’d be in bed, asleep,” He emphasizes “by 2 am…”

“And” he adds, motioning evenly to your set up, “I highly doubt you’re up early just to get work done.”

You bite your lip while gripping and releasing the fabric of your sweatpants.

Kuroo isn’t a mind reader by any extent, but the body has a language of its own. Right now, your actions are murmuring signs of discomfort. And exhaustion, according to your dark circles.

Kuroo heaves out something between a sigh and a yawn before he takes another couple of steps into your room.

The sound of mattress springs and rustled bed sheets gets you to turn your head toward him, though you hesitate to meet his gaze.

He makes himself comfortable.

This is a familiar scene, Kuroo invading your space. Well, it’s less of an invasion and more of an unspoken agreement that the both of you can ‘come and go as you please’ in regards to bedrooms, granted that the “invader” knocks first.

Essentially, if Kuroo wanted company, he would find his way to you and plop himself on the edge of your bed. You would do likewise. The interaction could last 5 minutes or 3 hours depending on your mental stamina that day.

In a way, it mimicked your childhood - going over to Kenma’s and knocking relentlessly on his bedroom door until he finally let you and Kuroo tumble through the doorway together. The only difference now is in the way that you spend time together. Conversations become deeper a lot faster. Belly-laughs after a miserable day of classes are considered sacred. Study sessions are done shoulder to shoulder and with a myriad of disgusted faces when frustrated with a particularly tricky problem.

But this is different from your usual conversations. It’s sickeningly early, you haven’t slept a wink, and a tidal wave of stress from this entire semester is finally crashing into you.

“I’m sorry,” You start softly, fiddling with your fingers, “I just… I couldn’t stop thinking about this expository essay I’ve been working on and my mind is totally numb. I’m so stressed out by all of these-”

“-Classes.” He finishes for you.

You swallow, bobbing your head softly in confirmation.

“I get it.”

And just by looking at him, you know he understands. For someone so laid back and put together, Kuroo’s eyes could speak a novel’s worth of emotion and information at any given moment.

“But you’ve already spent more than enough time on it.”

Have I really? Have I actually done enough? Because it feels like I’m failing. Like I can’t seem to finish what I’ve started. I can’t even complete this paper.

But at least Kuroo sounds resolute.

He’s stating a fact, not an opinion.

And he’s not trying to be unempathetic. He does get it, he really does.

But Kuroo also sees how hard you work already. And he knows all too well that there’s only so much work you can get done in one night. You’ve got enough on your plate even without your classes, so having the extra academic pressure is just the cherry on top.

“Mm,” you hum, “yeah, I guess you of all people would know.” You hunch over and rest your elbows on your thighs, using your hands to prop your head up.

He’d been there at your most and least productive moments. On days when you were cranking out a few thousand words and nights when you could only jot down a few sentences. Hell, Kuroo had even volunteered to help you edit and format it when the time came. What kind of person offers to do that before they’ve even been asked to?

It’s just another feature of his charm, you suppose.

But you still feel stuck. Like you’re a boat stranded in the middle of the ocean and you just can’t seem the muster up the strength to pull up the anchor. The anxiety lingers.

“...It just doesn’t feel like it’s ever enough, y’know?” You breathe out.

There it is. Finally out in the open.

And Kuroo hums thoughtfully to himself.

He’s been there.

Not knowing if the effort he put into his work was having any actual effect. Being unsure as to when he should stop taking responsibility for something. Putting work, classes, and people before himself.

It’s draining; a swirling spin-cycle of exhaustion.

But he’s also been learning that “enough” is subjective. So he decides to say just that.

“Enough is a pretty vague word, don’t you think?”

You blink.

Yeah, you suppose it is.

Hopefully this isn’t another one of his bizarre epiphanies - the kind that makes you think your brain is going to implode. Sometimes Kuroo could be a little too philosophical for his and your own good. But you humor him anyway.

Shifting in your seat, you give him a stiff nod.

Satisfied with your understanding, he proceeds with his thought.

“What I mean is that we probably have totally different definitions of enough...” he drawls on, “... and different standards too.”

“Okay...”

“What I mean is that-” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, “-what’s ‘enough’ to you may not be ‘enough’ to me. And vice versa.”

Kuroo tilts his head back, brows furrowing in thought. He’s grasping for the right way to put it.

“Y/n, I think you’ve done enough. You’ve worked hard,” he points out, “and I don’t think I know anyone who deserves a break more than you do.”

That makes you pause. You lift your head up to catch his gaze - his eyes are already studying your expression. Something inside of you stops functioning because never have you seen such raw sincerity. Or maybe you have, but you’re only just now noticing it.

He gives you a gentle smile. It makes your chest ache.

“You mean it?” You half-whisper.

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

You’ve known this for years now, but Kuroo truly has a way with words. They had the ability to pierce like a harpoon or stick sweetly to you like warm honey. Even with a few (thousand) shitty jokes littered throughout your conversations, it’s only natural to be awestruck by him. By his ability to make even the most awkward of situations a little more bearable. How he subliminally knows how to soothe and temper you. You think he would make a really great businessman - he’s quite persuasive; a real salesperson.

One part of you wants to apologize to him again. Another part wants to jump up and kiss him. To tear up and cry in his arms with relief. You chalk these potential reactions up to exhaustion and hormones… but you don’t write them off entirely.

Because suddenly being 3 feet apart feels like miles. And your bed is looking terribly comfortable.

“Mind if I join you?” You ask, but you’re already moving from your seat.

He gives you an indifferent shrug - though he feels anything but.

“It’s your bed.”

Oh, you’re well aware of that fact. You can already feel heat rising to your face.

You stand up slowly, raising your arms to the ceiling in one final attempt to stretch. Then softly, you place a knee to the mattress and wedge yourself on the rest of the way until you’re sitting crisscrossed in front of him. He shifts his torso so that it’s facing you.

And now that you’re finally eye to eye, you can breathe.

He may be your crush, but you feel strangely comfortable in his presence. You always have. It’s part of what makes Kuroo... well, Kuroo. He embodies security while still pushing you out of your comfort zone. And for that, you’re grateful.

You break the silence.

“I really am sorry,” you echo your earlier apology.

You undoubtedly are. And you’re not sure why it feels like such a heavy thing to say over something as menial as a good night’s sleep.

“Hey, hey,” He soothes, reaching a hand over to ruffle your hair, “it’s no big deal, alright?”

You send him a half-hearted glare but it immediately breaks into a soft smile. His hand lingers for a moment longer than it should before he draws it away. You miss the teasing touch.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to maintain eye-contact, but even as you look away, you note that his eyes remain concentrated on you. You can’t tell if it’s you who has moved closer or if he has. Either way, those few inches of distance have narrowed by a decent margin.

“I honestly just wanted you to get some rest. You’ve had it rough and by the looks of it-” He scans your face like he’s trying to diagnose you with something.

“Hey, watch it-” You warn, narrowing your eyes.

You already know you look tired. Kuroo loves reminding you of that in his own little way.

He smirks playfully, continuing anyway.

“-You could really use the sleep.” Kuroo’s raspy voice trails off.

“But apparently even pizza isn’t a convincing enough strategy.” He gives you a lopsided grin.

You shake your head, “Oh no, no, the pizza was very convincing.”

He scoffs, “Was it, now?” Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise, “Because you seem very awake to me.”

“Can’t we just blame this on the paper, please?” You sigh.

He furrows his brows in contemplation, “Hmm, no. I don’t think so. This is partially your fault.” A rather underwhelming response.

“A small part.”

“I’d say it's fifty-fifty.” He reasons with a raised eyebrow.

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Okay, you can quit whatever-” You gesture to his expression, “this is.” He always managed to pull the strangest faces and you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of making you laugh.

He snorts, “Oh? I thought you liked-” Kuroo gestures to his own face, “whatever this is.”

His voice has a curious edge to it. Some might even call it flirtatious.

And you go quiet.

You can’t help but stare at him. His messy hair, his barely parted lips. The fact that Kuroo just woken up and somehow still looks this attractive to you is so annoying. So frustrating.

And words are failing you.

It was an innocent comment. He’s just messing with you like he usually does. Maybe this has all gone a little bit too far. You should probably just say good night (or good morning) and rest your eyes.

Yet you can’t shake the feeling that this could be the perfect segway into addressing your relationship.

At literally any other time of day, you might be more rational. You could reason with yourself that this is quite literally the weirdest time to bring up your feelings for him. But something in you needs to close the literal and figurative gap between you two. And, for some indecipherable reason, it has to happen right now.

Whatever the outcome, you trust that Kuroo will always be your safe place.

So you throw caution to the wind.

“Actually, Kuroo…” You begin, staring at your hands which are placed neatly on your lap. “I really do.”

His eyes snap to yours.

This time it’s Kuroo’s turn to go silent in contemplation. Taking in a steady breath becomes an act of labor.

“You… really do what?” He asks slowly, grasping for your intended meaning.

Your heart pounds.

“I really like you.” You clarify.

It isn’t at all eloquent, but it’s sincere. You’d once heard that honesty came easier late at night, but you had no idea that it applied to early mornings as well.

But you finally make sense of the words that just escaped your lips. Panic arises. In an attempt to hide, you bury your face in your hands. You wish you could put the words right back into your mouth.

“I-” You take a deep breath, “I think I spoke without thinking.” Is all you allow yourself to mumble.

You no longer trust yourself with words.

Your face, your whole body really, feels like it’s on fire. Humiliation begins to wash over you in red hot waves… but you startle when a pair of hands meet your wrists.

You lift your head.

His fingertips are warm and worn. Still decorated with calluses from his years of volleyball back in high school. You want to question why the world has withheld this touch from you for so long.

He lures your hands away from your face, grasping both of them gently. For a sensation so new, it was somehow strikingly familiar. A thumb is meditatively tracing small, slow circles in the middle of your palm.

You gawk in disbelief… and as you scan his face, you catch a hint of pink on his cheeks. You can’t say anything though - your own face feels like it’s just become 1000 degrees warmer.

“I kinda figured you might,” Kuroo breaks the tension rather… bluntly.

Of course he did, wait what?

“But the thing is…”

Is this some sort of rejection? Is he just letting you down gently? Is that why he’s holding your hands like they’re as fragile as fine china? Then why is he looking at you so sweetly, so tenderly-

“I wanted to be the one to say it first.”

You start planning your own funeral again.

However, this time, emotional whiplash will be your stated cause of death. At least it’s a more unconventional way to go out.

“I- uh,” you swallow, “w- what did you just say?” It comes out as a stammer.

You’re squeezing his hands a little too tightly. When you recognize your modest death grip around his fingers you loosen your hold.

Kuroo smiles, his eyes crinkling slightly.

It’s nothing like that cunning smirk that you find annoying, yet so adorable. It’s also not one of his full-scale grins. It’s far too simple and reassuring. You almost don’t trust it.

“Well, in short, I like you too,” He re-explains, searching your face for a reaction, “but... I’d hoped to tell you that over pizza on Friday.” Kuroo looks away.

If you weren’t already gaping over his personal confession, you would probably be laughing at this new side of Kuroo. He looks unmistakably bashful.

It takes you a second to recover, but you finally open your mouth to respond...

But you’re cut off by Kuroo, once again. His softened expression is long gone. And, much to your dismay, he’s suddenly shifting himself off of your bed.

“It’s just too bad you didn’t keep up your end of the bargain. I guess that means there’ll be no pizza… no movie… no me.” He slowly releases your hands, knitting his brows together to feign sorrow - it looks hilariously forced, but you’re too worried about the warmth leaving your fingertips to care.

He’s teasing you like you’re his best friend.

And that’s because you are.

So then why does it feel like something’s changed? Like he’s daring you to make the next move?

Before he can pull away and leave, you tug at his hand which draws his whole body toward you.

Your heartrate spikes through the roof. When’s the last time you’ve been this close to someone? To a guy? A guy who’s shown actual living, breathing interest in you.

And he’s in your face.

Close enough that his scent, his cologne, is drowning your senses. Close enough that his breath is fanning faintly against your cheek. Close enough that you know there’s only one thing left for you to do.

Before you can think to hesitate, your lips are brushing up against his.

Intuitively, he brings his hands to your face, closing any extra distance.

Kuroo’s thumb feathers over your cheekbone, stroking it tenderly. His lips apply very little pressure and it’s unbearably delicate, but it fills you with an indescribable warmth. His lips linger just long enough for you to detect the mint from his toothpaste - he can probably taste the cinnamon tea you’ve been sipping on over the past hour. As far as kisses go, it’s reserved, but perfect for this distinct moment.

Plus, you figure, this is just the first of many longer, more eager kisses - though you can’t imagine being more breathless than you already are right now.

But you can hardly get another taste of him before those warm hands on your cheeks are prying you away. He stares. You stare back. His eyes are brimming with something warm and full. You immediately choose to label it, “affection.”

And in a much lower voice, Kuroo murmurs, “Let’s save this for later.”

You scan his face, wondering if he’s actually serious. He gradually makes his way off of the bed and onto his feet and before you can protest, Kuroo is speaking again.

“You-”

He leans down and gingerly lifts your chin with his fingers. The gentleness of his touch almost makes you flinch, but you somehow manage to hold it in the road. Though now you’re really at a loss for words.

“-need to get some good rest.”

He places a chaste kiss on your forehead.

You still feel it after he pulls away. After he closes the door. After you’ve laid you head down on your pillow in shock.

How does he expect you to fall asleep after all of that?

---

extra: this is dedicated to Izzy - our sleep schedules may be jacked up, but i’m pretty sure it’s a blessing in disguise if we’re taking our time zones into consideration. thanks for making me laugh & for not stealing my quarter of the braincell.

and to my precious friends and followers - thank you for being patient with me. it’s hard to post or even write at the moment, but i’m steadily pushing myself toward a better mindset. i appreciate your comments, likes, and the fact that y'all even bother to check out my works in the first place. i’m working on it.

also happy birthday, Tetsu. you’re a real star.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou #kuroo

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thefactsofthematter · 3 years ago

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tell us about how spot and race’s lives turn out from ur recent fic! (also love ur writing keep up the good work!)

i’m glad u asked dear anon! (and tysm!!)

so i didn’t include any of this in the actual fic bc i wanted readers to draw their own conclusions about what happened, but here’s how i see things going down! it’s a little long since it’s pretty much an entire epilogue spanning their whole lives, so buckle in lol

(i really did try to put this under the cut but tumblr mobile isn’t cooperating and i don’t feel like turning my computer on rn. sorry folks.)

- race’s mental health is pretty rocky for a while immediately after the story ends— he gets a lot of people checking up on him, thinking breaking up with spot was one of his impulsive, manic decisions, and the fact that so many people are questioning his mental state sends him spiralling a little. the stress gets his symptoms to worsen (mania, more persistent and disturbing hallucinations/delusions), especially bad now that he lives alone, and he ends up checking himself into a psych ward after a few months of secretly struggling and pretending to be okay.

- this gets spot to worry immensely when he finds out: they’ve got enough mutual friends that they’re still in the same circles, and now that the initial hurt of the breakup is waning, he’s got a renewed but purely friendly love for race. he doesn’t quite feel ready to see him in person, but he sends flowers to the hospital with a very sweet note, to let race know he’s thinking about him <3

- in the longer term, race gets more stable, finishes his phd, and works his way back up to being more independent, but realizes that he doesn’t trust himself to live alone— he lives with crutchie for a while, and then meets albert through some mutual friends in his early 30s, and they start dating! they live their double-income-no-kids-not-married fantasy for a good while; neither of them are necessarily rich, but they’re stable enough to be able to travel lots and see the world. they’re not quite madly in love, but they make each other pretty happy, and they only separate (after almost a decade together) when albert gets a job offer somewhere across the world— race doesn’t want to move, but al wants to take the job, so they have a very amicable split with an agreement that race will come visit someday.

- in the meantime, spot never does land another long term relationship, but he adopts as a single parent, just like medda adopted him and jack. he raises three kids in a hipster little suburb just outside the city and does his very best— just like race had predicted, he’s an amazing dad. he doesn’t really worry about romance, perfectly content with his little family. he and race keep in touch— the common link usually being jack, as spot’s brother and race’s best friend, who invites them to all his family functions and whatnot. even while race is dating albert, spot isn’t particularly jealous, since he now sees race’s point about their very different ideas for the future much clearer. he’s happy where he’s at, and he’s glad race is happy doing his own thing. they still make very good friends, at the end of the day.

- BUT!!! it’s only when one of spot’s kids starts really struggling with mental health that sprace start growing a little closer— his sixteen year-old daughter is diagnosed with bipolar disorder, so spot’s immediate reaction is to call race up for some insight. race ends up being a really great mentor for her, sharing his coping strategies and giving her someone to relate to, so by consequence, he spends a lot more time with the conlons. spot’s kids are older now, his youngest just starting high school, so he’s finally able to step out of spending every waking minute focusing on being a dad— he’s got a little more time for his own adult relationships.

- cue a couple years of sprace very slowly falling back in love with each other but being too nervous to say it… until spot’s youngest finally asks “so is he, like, our stepdad now? he’s here every other day, and you look at him like you’ve got a crush.” this is enough of a kick in the ass to get him to actually talk to race, who confesses that if spot will have him, he’d really like to get back together. they do, and it’s finally right. they’re well into their forties, but race is at a point where settling into spot’s chiller life feels good, and spot is ready to start stepping back out of his comfort zone now that his kids are pretty much independent, so they can finally balance each other out the way they used to.

- they get married eventually!!! spot couldn’t bear to part with the ring from the first time around, so he re-proposes once they’ve been back together for a while (“my old-ass knees don’t appreciate me getting down like this, so you better say yes this time”) and they have a sweet little backyard wedding, mostly organized by spot’s kids. they’re in their fifties by then, but they’re even more in love than they were in college <333

#this could really be its own fic if i were to flesh it out #but i kinda like it in bullet points. nice and concise.#my writing #<- i don’t usually put bullet point stuff in that tag but bc this has so much to it i feel like it belongs #anon #sprace #racetrack higgins #spot conlon

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abcsofadhd · 4 years ago

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I’m sorry this is way too long and too depressing, I ended up venting because I don’t have anyone to talk to about this. If you see this ask, feel free to ignore, you don’t need to publish all of it or any of it. My question is at the very end.

I was recently diagnosed about 3 months ago and started meds with the sole, singular hope that I would be able to start tasks. that’s it. no other symptom I have matters to me, i just want to be able to start the tasks I want to start when I want to start them. I’ll accept any shitty side effect if it means I can actually do the work I need to do. I’m so fucking desperate to be able to get my work done, my entire workflow was absolutely destroyed and every coping mechanism I ever adopted rendered totally useless by COVID. My inability to work, meet deadlines, and follow through on promises has been ruining my life since March.

I was tentatively excited (among other weird complex feelings) when I got my diagnosis because I’d hoped that meds would be a solution. I’d read peoples accounts of how all the tasks that were hard for them suddenly became so easy, and I was so hopeful that maybe I didn’t have to be like this forever.

But it’s been three months now, and I’ve been through several stimulants at various dosages, and none of them have done literally anything. I haven’t felt the calm people talk about, I haven’t felt anything at all, and I certainly haven’t seen any increase in productivity at any point. The stimulants I’ve tried either have super inconsistent benefits, or they have no beneficial effect at all at any dose my GP is willing to prescribe.

One of the meds actively hurt my productivity because not only did it give me fucking nothing, I spent two weeks (until I gave up on it and we moved to the next one) coming home utterly exhausted and lightheaded with a headache and laying in the dark at 5pm refreshing twitter for hours and feeling helpless and shitty about how much work I wasn’t doing. That med was the worst one, the rest mostly did nothing except make me not hungry. The most effective one so far increased the frequency that I had hyperfocus, which was better than increasing fuck all, but I still couldn’t choose what to hyperfocus on or switch tasks, so it still didn’t give me the one and only thing I need. And for some reason it stopped even giving me that at higher doses?

And I guess at this point I’ve just lost hope that meds will ever be effective for me. I know it hasn’t been that long, 3 months is basically nothing, I’ve read this can take years. And there’s still other meds to try, and if the next one doesn’t work my GP will refer me to a psychiatrist who might be willing to try higher doses. But in the meantime I’ve continued to not be able to work and faced the professional consequences, and it’s been so humiliating and frustrating and hopeless. It’s like I’m waiting for a miracle to occur, and my life is on hold until it happens. I keep getting angry at random posts that share their success stories and talk about how different it is when you start meds, because that’s exactly what got my hopes up. I feel so helpless.

It’s just so demoralizing that I’ve spent my entire fucking life until 3 months ago assuming that I don’t have it any different from anyone else, so if I was struggling, it must just be because I’m lazy and stupid and worthless. And I just accepted that that’s how I am and I can’t change it, so I was able to make my peace with it and find ways around it. But now, I find out that maybe I wasn’t ever lazy and stupid, and there’s a solution that’s supposed to fix me. And now I can’t go back to just accepting that I’m like this forever, I want that solution to work so badly. But the solution isn’t working, nothing’s different. It’s supposed to be different and it’s not. So I’m still just as worthless as I always was and might still be forever. The status quo remains unchanged except for the fact that I don’t know how to accept it anymore.

If meds just don’t work for me at all, then that means I’m just stuck like this forever, and like. That means I should probably stop wasting my time and everyone’s time and drop out of grad school. If meds cant get me to start necessary, important, time sensitive work, then I will not be able to complete this program and I definitely would not be successful in the competitive career I’ve worked towards. I don’t know.

I’m sorry for venting, I’m sorry this was depressing. The question I wanted to ask is, is there a good way to tell that meds won’t work for you? Is it supposed to feel like something, or not feel like something? Do you think there’s a point when it’s not really worth it to continue trying meds and upping dosages? Thanks, sorry again.

Hey, no need to apologize. Genuinely.

See, finding the right meds and right dosage takes time. I had to try 3-4 meds at 5 or so different strengths till I settled on one that worked for me.

Everyone ticks differently. So different meds can work differently with people.

⠀

How I figure out the effectivity of meds is how easy it makes it for me to shower. Its usually such an effort for me, usually taking up to an hour of psyching myself up.

On meds, or rather the right dosage of meds, I can just get up and shower and immediately.

⠀

Your experiences are valid. They are also common among ADHDers.

I’ve gotten asks many times from ADHDers wondering if there was a point in trying out different meds. Cause yea, trying different meds can be tiring and take a lot of mental effort.

⠀

There’s also something I wanna add at the end, from what you’ve said.

every coping mechanism I ever adopted rendered totally useless by COVID

⠀

Stress and large changes make coping harder. A lot of ADHDers are struggling more because of it, medicated or not.

My point is that THAT could be the reason you arent finding your meds to be as useful as they could be.

Meds make it easier to do things you want to do. Coping strategies allow us to structure tasks to make it easier to do.

So what happens if our coping strategies fail?

Well, meds wouldn’t be as effective.

#Anonymous #askme #adhd #actually adhd #abcsofadhd

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tsukidrama · 3 years ago

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Thank you so much for waiting this long. I had a lot of schoolwork and tests I had to get through, so now that that whole ordeal is over I can finally respond! I didn't want to half-ass writing back to you, so I figured I'd wait until I well and truly had the time.

I heard you're updating TRNT tomorrow! I'm super excited to read that, especially considering we're getting a some redemption for Mr. Leonhardt. I've always considered him a very interesting character, though before reading your fic, I didn't particularly like him. I don't really have any guesses or predictions of sorts for whats going to happen, but you did say prepare for angst and awkwardness so that is what I'll do!

of course! i always understand when it comes to school. i hope that you were able to get through everything without stressing out too badly. i hope you get spring break soon at least. you've got this!

but also, same... sorry it took me so long to reply to this message, i'm struggling. i'll be okay. i hope you enjoyed the most recent chapter! i worry that it went over some peoples' heads though, or maybe i stunned my readers too much to speak lol

can he ever be redeemed? in my opinion he's always going to be kind of a dick of an old man lol but i think i can fix him. enough to make him a good father to Annie the second time around, at least. it's complicated as hell and hard to describe without reading the entire 17k word chapter

> What you said about fics regarding Annie not telling the reader about her 'secret identity', I completely agree. I always find reading them is gut-wrenching, but it's also a guilty pleasure of mine? I really like the dynamic and the questioning and the "will they won't they" element it adds, that is to say "will they work through this and flourish." <

> The shift at the beginning of the Trost Arc from hopeful to just filled with mind numbing fear... it fucked me up when I first watched it. They really were all just naive kids, especially the warriors, they had no idea what they were getting into or how bad their situation was getting. I can't even think about how destroyed, mentally and emotionally, Annie was after that. To have Marco plead with her and beg for his life, thinking she couldn't do anything, it must've been terrible for her psyche. Annie is an extremely complex and deep character, and I feel like with TRNT and Please Be, I'm learning more about her and her emotions. Sure, it isn't technically "canon" but I accept your writing as law when it comes to AOT. Annie returned to her girlfriend, built a farmhouse, and settled down, I think that's what she deserves. <

oh absolutely... that dynamic is what drew me to her in the first place. it genuinely just made me sad to think about her future while she was in the crystal, because it seemed so bleak. that's why i never wrote fanfic for her when i was younger. she's in so much pain and doesn't know how to deal with it. and i don't think she had time to truly process the reality of what she did or went through until the crystal, which is it's own punishment. but now that i know it'll be okay in the end for her and that she ends up happy in the cottage, i can bear to put myself through the angst of writing about canon-era Annie 😭

EEEE HEEH ASLVHBLJDS THANK YOU!! oh mygod this makes me really happy to hear, that your understanding is made better with my writing. obviously i'm biased but.. lol i also take my writing as law. i've said before that if you want something to be done right then you gotta do it yourself AND I HAVE. i might be a bit kooky but i swear to god i know what i'm talking about when it comes to complex emotions and character motivation. those who i love, i know inside and out. it gives me very specific type of imposter syndrome though because i feel like i can understand other people's emotions more than my own? does that even make sense?

> I think I'm more at peace with the fact that I won't be able to write all day, every day, and your words really helped with that. Thanks again, and I'm really glad you liked my fic! The long comment you left really warmed my heart, so much that I'm actually trying to write a part 2! Honestly, the first one was a bit rushed and I wasn't really happy with it. I feel like if I work on the second one a lot and I take my time with it, then I'll really enjoy the final result. As for the plot, I'm thinking it's gonna feature a few different moments when their love for each other is tested, but ultimately pulls through, giving them Annie the happy ending she deserves. I'm actually really surprised and delighted that you said we had many of the same ideas! We both love Annie an unreasonably high amount, I think. Though yours will be angstier, I am extremely excited to read it. Once again, thank you so much and I'm really glad you liked it! <

i really did like that fic! [linking it here] and now i'm excited you want to write a sequel! i support you in taking your time to write the story and vibe you want the for the fic. you're not on a timeline and i agree that you'll be happier with how it turns out in the end 💖 i'm glad i could help you in any way, it was my pleasure! it really is in line with some of the ideas i have for please be, you'll see. why surprised? you're a damn good writer, don't sell yourself short.

even right now while i'm not going into work and spending most of my time at home (to be fair i'm not sitting around doing nothing but still) i'm still not writing all day every day. creativity is a muscle just like anything else, you know? sometimes it needs to rest or you need to find inspiration somewhere different. i'm glad that you seem to be less stressed out about writing. it should be something that you enjoy and not a source of anxiety!

and i wish you the same! i hope to hear from you again soon and again i'm sorry for how long it took for me to respond. much love to you 💕

> I wish you wellness, <

> Pink Anon <

> (P.S. Tell Mars I'm really looking forward to the finale of The Infected! I'm itching to find out how it ends, and I really liked the last chapter!) <

check the comments for a response from mars herself but from me, hope you enjoy the ending! it's been a wild ride but i'm quite proud of her for finishing a big series like that. me and TRNT could never lololol

#pink anon #tsuki answers #annie-isms #cottagecanon #mars

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addysonsophia · 4 years ago

Text

Pressed Coffee

Pairing: Johnny x Reader (gender-neutral terms were used, but I had a fem!reader in mind when writing this).

Genre: Fluff, angst, some suggestive situations (not really).

Word Count: 9.1K

Summary: This is difficult to explain. I had to write this for a college lit class following the form of David Levithan’s Lover’s Dictionary, which twists the “normal” way of defining words. Told through the lens of a man we learn about his relationship, the reader doesn’t know the sequence of the events that are taking place before our very eyes, through the words that he has chosen to define with tableaus of his love life. I did this with Johnny, and I think I did a good job. Wow, this was a bad summary. Let’s try: How coffee can lead to a beautiful romance. Yeah that’s ok.

Warnings: None, some angst near the end.

Caffeine n.

I was late, like always.

I woke up a whole hour later than normal, and that caused me to do a speed-run version of my morning routine. Good thing I shower at night—a great time saver. I left my apartment in twenty minutes; as I stepped out the door the noises of the morning surrounded me: cars bumper to bumper through the city making their way to work: morning joggers with their dogs and strollers zooming past the seemingly frozen vehicles; birds swooping down from the sky to the land, hopping, and hoping for some food.

I quicken my pace as I head to the subway station on 48th Street; my shoes just a tiny bit too tight today, barely allowing me to keep my speed. Closer, I get to the orange sign, the faster time moves, never letting me get ahead, leaving me two steps behind. Down the stairs with a quick hop in my step, and a swipe of my subway card, I wait on the platform for my train. I looked to my watch, then to the board above the tunnel—the train was seven minutes way.

“Crap.” Was what I said out loud but, in my head, I was breaking down. It takes a lot to make me stressed but being late was suspect number one. Being late, is like a mortal sin that has been ingrained into my psyche from a young age: all my after-school activities in high school emphasized how important being on time was. “If you’re early, you’re on time. If you’re on time, you’re late. If you’re late, you’re dead.” That is what many band teachers, drama directors, and coaches have said to me. In college, there were consequences to being late, the beginning of practices would be spent running for every person not there (if they didn’t inform the coach that they would be late), then when the offender would arrive, they would run. Being on time shows that you are respectful, aware of other people and their time that they are giving up to also be there.

With the rising levels of stress, I shot my boss a quick text:

“I’m running a bit late. I’ll be in soon. Would you like me to pick anything up for you?”

A minute later, she responded with:

“That’s fine, you don’t have tons of work like normal. Can you get me a coffee? You know my order ;)” A sigh of relief fell from my mouth at the message, and the growing squealing sounds from the tunnel. I send back a thumbs up and slip my phone back into my pocket.

The wind of the underground picks up as a silver train flew by, slowly coming to a halt. As the doors open, people being to push their way into their spots—I take mine towards the front of the car, another hand joining the many others on the rail overhead. Swaying back and forth, the lights flicker above me as the air conditioning blows; a baby sits on their parents’ lap in front of me with the biggest smile on their chubby face. A small wave is all it takes to grab the baby’s attention, smiling back, I make a funny face at them, and now they’re bubbling with the cutest laughter. They reach out to take my hand, their ravioli sized fist wraps around my pointer finger, and the last of my stress melts away with this little angel in front of me. The parent, also has a smile on their face, appeased with the behavior of their child—any form of travel with a baby is hard, so I try and make it a little easier for them.

Sadly, my stop was up, and I waved bye to my new friend. I stepped off the train and headed up the stairs to 110th street. I already knew what coffee shop I was going to: there is a small café down the block from my office that has the best drinks and snacks—which was prefect because I had to skip breakfast. Hauling ass through the streets towards Papaya Acres Café, I mentally prepared my order.

“One large, caramel swirl ice coffee, two and two liquid sugar; one medium hot coffee with regular cream and sugar; and a croissant with butter, warmed.” The bell chimed as I pulled the glass door open and was immediately bathed in the scent of coffee and sweets. I inched forwards in line towards the cash register, when I made it, I recited my order perfectly, paid, then waited at the pick-up counter. The bell above the door twinkling when more customers came in, the melodic music coming from the speakers, and the whining from the espresso machine. I pulled my phone out to kill time before my order was ready, I opened Twitter and started scrolling through my feed.

“Dude, you can’t just, like, look at someone like that and not expect to get punched in the face.”

“I didn’t mean too! There was a-a-I don’t even remember, but she didn’t have to punch me.” What did this guy do? I know that I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help it, I had to listen in.

“I don’t know, I saw your face, and I would have punched it too if you were looking at me like that.” The man, that was facing me, had brown hair that was styled away from his face, leaving his brown eyes on display—they were light and full of mischief. He wore a grey sweatshirt that looked comfy as hell, and he had a smile stretched across his face.

“Well, he seems nice.” I whisper to myself, my lips dancing into a smile. I turned my back to them, deciding it better to not listen in anymore.

“I don’t know any—”

“Miss, here’s your order.” Two coffees sat in a carrying tray and a bag—hopefully containing my croissant—in between the drinks.

“Thank you, have a great day.” My smile grew as I picked up my order. Turning back to the door, I began texting my boss that I was on my way. I made it a few steps when my hands were knocked towards me.

He was early, like always.

Frustrated adj.

Today, out of any day, today was the day that I was going to cry in public. Now, I never usually cry, not at movies (sometimes I do, I’m not heartless), not at sad songs, not when I’m stressed, and definitely not in public. But this just broke the dam.

There I stood, in the middle of a coffee shop, with both boiling and freezing coffee down the front of my white sweater—well, my now, brown sweater—and cute black pants. The clear plastic cup sat crushed next to the paper cup, the rest of the hot coffee melting the ice on the floor. A pair of faded, black converse faced my black shoes. Tears begin to pool in my eyes, the tiled floor becoming blurry, hands clasp my shoulders and my head snaps up.

“Are you okay?” Deep brown eyes stare back at mine. The tears being to race down my face.

“Yeah.” I nod slowly.

“Then why are you crying?” A soft hand comes to my cheek, his thumb brushes a tear away. After that I just completely broke down, like big ugly sobs, snot—everything. His hands shift, moving from my face and shoulder to caressing my head and holding my back.

“I woke up late, then my train was late, but my boss said it was fine and wanted me to get her a coffee, and then I split it all over me. But this is the fifth time I’ve been late this month, and my supervisor said that if I was late one more time, I have to meet with her.” With a heaving chest and choked sobs, I managed to explain my short morning. Sinking further, I wrapped my arms around the kind man and just let it out. I probably shouldn’t have done that, but he was so warm, and I was so tired—sometimes you just need a hug.

�� “That was my fault, I’m sorry.” He whispered into my hair, a hand running up and down my back. Slowly, I began to calm down, savoring the hug for a few more moments before I pulled away. I looked at his grey sweatshirt and saw dark marks from where my face was and the remnants of the coffee.

“It’s okay, I’m sorry that I got tears and snot on your sweatshirt.” Dabbing at my tears to dry my face, I turned away, getting mascara on my sleeve—the sweater was already ruined so it couldn’t get any worse. I pulled myself from his arms sighing, I bent down to grab my phone (thankful undamaged) and texted my boss what happened. I turned to the counter to reorder, and the worker already has my order ready.

“Oh, you didn’t have to do that.” I begin to pull my wallet out to pay, but she was just shaking her head at me.

“After what I just saw, you are fine. Don’t worry about it.” Her smile was kind. I went back up to the counter and put a couple of bills in the tip jar.

“Thank you so much.” I turn back around and see the man still standing were I left him.

“Hi, my name is Johnny. Can we start over again?”

Gilded adj.

Being with Johnny was like being in a world of sunlight. Everything was filled with loud laughs, quiet whispers, longing glances, quick kisses, and loving touches. Of course, there were arguments and disagreements, we were a normal couple in a not so normal world. His job is demanding, long hours and weeks spent with the only kinds of communication are texts and FaceTime calls. At first, this arrangement was strange: dates spent at hole in the wall restaurants in a back-corner way from the other patrons; dinner and movies—at home; late (like 1 a.m.) walks in the park, and food from convenient stores. It was easy to get used to, and I get why it had to be that way. When your boyfriend is part of a world-known group, you can’t really go outside in broad daylight and be seen together—it would most likely ruin his career, and some of the fans go too far.

I rolled over, a mess of blankets and sheet caught between us, and I just look at him. The sun streamed in through the curtains, filling the room with a warm glow. His hair turning a rich golden brown, the light doesn’t stop there, bathing his skin a shimmering yellow. The sight making me gasp, because in that moment, he looked ethereal—in that moment I knew I loved him.

Soft breathes fell in the space between, I moved my hand and started tracing his face. Thick eyebrows, long lashes, strong nose, full lips, sharp jaw; this man looked like he was carved from the Gods themselves, and he was all mine.

He groaned when I stopped my movements; arms moving, coming to pull me closer to his chest.

“Morning.” Eyes still closed.

“Morning.” Eyes opened, the brown catching the light and turned gold. I leaned in and placed a quick kiss to his lips, then tried to get up. But he wasn’t budging.

“Where do you think you’re going?” He raised himself up on one arm, holding me with the other.

“Bathroom.” He shook his head, I moved away again. Then he lifted himself up, arms coming to either side of me, only to lay himself on top of me, effectively stopping any attempts to start the day.

“You’re not going anywhere.” His lips tickled my neck as he spoke. I sighed out and began to run my hands through his hair, and his breathing slowed. Shortly after, the snores started, and there was no way I was getting up for about an hour. I wrapped my arms around him and started to fall back to sleep.

Perfect, it was perfect.

Hostile adj.

It was a rare date night out, and I was brimming with excitement. Tonight, we went to our favorite restaurant then headed for a movie at my place. On the walk back to my apartment, something felt off. Footsteps and whispering followed every step of our own. I pulled my face mask higher up on my face as I looked around—to not cause suspicion. With a glance behind us, I saw a group of girls, and my heart sank. This was it; this is where the relationship ended; they were going to find out and tell everyone.

See when you date a celebrity, there are rules because there are consequences. The fans of most groups are wonderful, the kindest people you will ever meet, but then there are a few that are not. These fans think that they are entitled to the artist: they stalk them; find their phone number, and call them constantly; they send death threats to anyone who gets close to their favorite artist—or worse to the artist themselves. To say I was scared would be an understatement.

“John, there’s a group of girls behind us. They’ve been following us for a while.” I lean my head on his shoulder to not cause alarm.

“John? Wha—Oh. Ok. Ah, let me think.” He became serious: eyebrows furrowed under his black cap; lips pursed behind his face mask. I don’t know how they found us; we were so careful.

Steps grew closer, and I could hear some of what they were feverishly whispering about.

“Do you think it’s him?”

“It has to be. I mean, look at him.”

“If it is him, who is that?”

“I don’t know, but I think if I can get close enough I can—” With that they dared more steps, for every two we took, they took three. This was getting serious.

“Ok, after we reach this corner, we are going to enter that store—see it? The bookstore? —then we are going to walk around inside until they follow us in, then after a few seconds we are going to leave, then make a break for it down the block. Sound like a plan?” It was a stupid plan, but it was the only one we had right now.

“I guess, this better work.” My grip tightens on is arm, trying to ground myself in the situation.

“Wait!” One of the girl’s screech behind me, I slightly turn my head to hear better.

“—said that she spotted him on 1st and 3rd Street. Let’s go.” They all crossed the street and headed in down the block—away from us.

“I think we are going to have to stop with the dates outside for a little while.” With a sigh, he nodded.

Lend v.

It was a cool day, in October, and I forgot my jacket. Walking through the streets at night would have been fine if it were summer, but it wasn’t. I had been in such a hurry to get out of the apartment to meet up with him, that I just completely forgot to grab the jacket sitting on the hook by the door. I didn’t notice until I had made it to the restaurant.

“Did you walk all the way here without a jacket?” I scooched my chair closer to the table, grabbing my glass to sip some water.

“Uh, I forgot it to grab it when I left.” A chuckle falls from his mouth, his eyes curving to crescent moons, then he reached across the table to take my hand, his larger one encompassing my own.

“You’re a freakin’ loser.” An often-used term of endearment. Eyes rolling, I squeezed his warm hand.

“Takes one to know one.” His face breaks into a wide smile.

The waiter came to take our order, and when he left, we just sat in each other’s gaze, content with the moment. The food came, bites were shared, and when the bill was paid, he offered to walk me home.

With the moon rising higher in the sky, the temperatures dropped. Lights from shops, apartments, and streetlights created a world of color, drenching us in greens, blues, reds, and yellows. A gust of wind came from behind us, and in a moment of silence after—he dropped his jacket onto my shoulders. I laughed.

“Thank you.” I looked at his profile, a strand of hair fell into his eyes, and he just left it. Lips were curved into a small smile—proud of the smoothness of the execution; a black turtleneck was the only thing shielding him from the weather, and from the looks of it, he was winning.

“Always. Can’t have you freezing on me.”

“I’m not going to freeze, Johnny.”

“Not when I’m here, duh.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“I’m lucky you’re mine.” Not only was my body warm, but my face was too.

He was smooth.

Loneliness adj.

He was gone. Days had turned into weeks, and the bed had grown cold as nights were spent hoping for his return. Time seemed to move slower without him by my side; the sun and it’s jovial rays never seem to set, and when they do the moon and its frigid compassion surround me in an endless longing for the light. I know that I shouldn’t be acting like this, but he was my world.

I made my way to the kitchen, the cold floors numbing my bare feet. The blanket wrapped over my frame providing little warmth. The rising sun casted an orange glow in the room. I slowly set my mug into the sink, washing the rings of coffee from the inside wall, my movements becoming sluggish as the world caught up with me.

The lock beeps from the front door, gradually opening. Shuffling could be heard in the entryway: keys being placed on their hook, bags being set down, shoes being kicked onto the rug, and jackets being placed on the rack. Water running down the drain was the only thing that filled my ears—deaf, I was to the footsteps drawing closer. Mug in one hand and scrubber brush in the other, I gazed to the beginning of the day: lights flicking on room by room in the building across from me, people making their way of from their homes, cars starting to head towards their destination. Vibrations come from behind me as warm hands snake around my blanket, hands turning into arms and a chest pressed into my back. It does not shake me from my trace, still I gazed out the window—until warm lips press onto the top of my head. By the time I had set down the mug and scrubber, I was turned around, facing him. As I looked into his eyes, my own began filling with tears. Like the play button had been pressed, my hands shot out to grab his arms, pulling him closer.

“You’re back?” uncertainty filling the room.

“I’m back.”

My world had returned. He pulled me from the sink, taking one of my hands and his other sliding to my back, he begun to sway. There we stood, dancing in the kitchen at 6 in the morning—revolving around each other, for we were the centers of our universe.

Nervous adj.

The energy in the venue was high, everything was buzzing: the lights, the speaker, the crowd, and my heart. This was the first time that I saw Johnny’s group in person, I’ve seen concert videos, fan-cams, and their online concerts, but never in real life. He has been on tour for two months—which is a long time to only talk through FaceTime and texts, but it was well worth the wait. I managed to get tickets to their last show, shortly after followed plane tickets and a hotel reservation.

The beginning of my day was spent sleeping in to get rid of the jet lag, once I was up and ready, I headed to the venue; the concert may start at 8 p.m., but you also have to get there early so you can get fan-made stuff and merch. I arrived at 4 p.m., and began to wait, making friends along the way, excitedly talking with them about the members, songs, moments, and theories for the next comeback.

I made it to my seat, light stick, and fan banner in hand as I pulled my phone out to text him good luck—as I did for every concert. I went on Twitter to see that the concert was trending, a smile on my lips as I liked the groups’ pre-concert posts. The fan sitting next to me saw my fan banner.

“Ooh, you like Johnny?” Their eyes sparkling in the bright fluorescent lights overhead.

“Yeah, as much as I love them all, he’s my favorite. Who’s you’re favorite?”

“Haechan, he’s so cute. But I also love all of them members too.” After that we got more friendly, names were swapped, and then we started talking about everything about the group. As time for the concert began grew closer the more my heart began to race, my palms became sweaty, and my stomach was in knots. Soon the lights dimmed, and the crowd thrummed with energy, light sticks turning on and the space changed into a green ocean.

The screens on the stage flickered to life, beginning the VCR introduction. The lights flashed and there he was in all his glory, standing before me. The music played and the members came to life, moving as one before the crowd.

But he always stood out to me.

Smitten v.

He had seen me during the concert and had someone come get me when it finished. Going through some ‘STAFF ONLY’ doors, and many turns later, I was in the dressing room waiting for the guys to finish going over the concert.

Sitting, on my phone, still going through the concert tag on Twitter, I heard them coming from a mile away with their excited yells and laughs. The door opens and they all flood into the room, the sound following them in. He was the last one, of course. Eyes scanning the room, going from person to person trying to find something, someone—me.

When our eyes met, it was as if the world going on around us had melted away, it was only him and me. It was perfect. Slowly, I rose from my seat and started to make my way to him, he was pushing through the people blocking us. When we got to the middle, he slowly, but surely, wrapped his arms around me. It was warm and whole, and I accepted it—eagerly. I buried my face into his chest—slightly heaving from the two-hour long concert, the sweat was felt on my cheek— and I smiled into it.

“Hi, I missed you.” Quiet, we were, afraid that this moment could end in the next breath.

“I missed you too.” He kissed the top of my head, then rested his cheek there, I wanted him to stay there forever. But our reunion was stopped when the others joined in on the hug—turning into a dog-pile. I let it happen for a little while, but then it started to get hot, and they were all sweaty—so, so sweaty.

“Guys…I can’t breathe anymore.”

“You let Johnny hug you, so why can’t we.” Mark said from somewhere from the outside of the pile.

“Because he’s my boyfriend, and ya’ll are gross and sweaty.” I squirm in Johnny’s arms, but none of them budged. “I’m going to die in here, aren’t I?” I whisper.

“Probably, but at least I’ll die with you.” He whispers back.

“No, you’re not, you Giraffe. You get fresh air and everything, while I’m down here in the depths of gross boy stank.” I resorted to whining, I’m not proud but I needed out of my prison.

“Guys, you heard them, give ‘em some space. They’re right, you do stink.” He started pushing them away, chuckling.

“Is that better, Baby?” He brushed my hair out of my face when I looked up at him.

“Yes, Handsome. I can only handle one stinky boy right now.” His hug became crushing as he lifted me a few inches off the ground that left me squealing.

“Stinky?!” Eyes wide. “I’m stinky?” He asked, voice raising a few decibels.

“Big time.” Then, my life flashed before my eyes as he starts to rub his head all over my face. Gagging, I push his nasty ass away from me, but with his grip around me, he wasn’t going anywhere. A hidden smile on my face turns into a frown when he lifts his head up to look at me.

“You’re gross. I don’t want to hug you anymore.” I push again, but that only encourages him. His hands shift from my back to my sides, then he starts to wiggle them over the covered skin.

“Stop it! No, Johnny! Stop!” Forced laughs escaped as tears start to run down my face.

“Then, take it back! Say you want to hug me!” He wasn’t letting up, if anything, he was picking up the pace.

“Never! I told you that I don’t want to hug stinky boys!” My chest began to rise and fall at a rapid speed, air rushed into my lungs only for it to be ripped back out. There was no end in sight as one of his hands grasped my side to stop me from trying to twist out of his attack.

“I’m not stopping until you say it AND give me a kiss!” A huge smile and crescent eyes are all I saw as he brought his face closer to mine, smile slinking into a smirk. “Be good, and listen, Baby.” Time to bring in the big guns.

“Jaehyun! Help me! Please!” I whip my head around to not only look for my hopeful savior, but to hide my flushed cheeks from his comment. As fast as I called his name, two more arms wrapped around me, and pulled me from Johnny’s ruthless hold. I push off from Jaehyun; finally, away from the constant contact, I slowed my breathing down. Smoothing my hair down and running my sweaty hands down the front of my jeans, I stood up straight and looked at Johnny.

“That was mean.” Lips: full on pout mode, Eyes: puppy dog mode engaged, Arms: crossed over one another. I was the picture-perfect example of how to get an apology. With his jaw dropped and eyes wide, Johnny was the perfect example of forming an apology.

“Mean?! You said that you didn’t want to hug me anymore!” True.

“But I was just joking. You didn’t have to rub your sweaty head on me, then tickle me.” Jaw snapped close, and eyes turning into soft brown ones, we were at a standstill. The others were lightly laughing at the scene going on in front of them, one seen many times before, but always with a different victor.

“You hurt my feelings.” One step closer.

“You hurt my nose and lungs” One step.

“You were mean.” One step.

“You were meaner.” Last step. We met in another hug; the winner was obvious.

“God, they’re so whipped for each other.” Mark whisper to Jaehyun with an eye roll.

Telephone n.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“Not possible.”

“I think it is, Johnny. I love you so much more than you love me. You fill up, like, 54% of my heart.” With a slight nod, I won this time.

“Only 54%? Are you loving other people on the side?” A dramatic gasp and a flared hand placed on his chest caused me to laugh.

“Of course, Loser. The rest of the boys take up about 6%, My mom has 10%, Ms. Jenkins and her cat has 7%, and I have the other 23% saved for a rainy day.” My cheeks began to hurt from smiling so much; one thing that I love about him is that no matter what, he can always make me smile.

“Well, I’ll let you in on a little secret, Baby.” I slightly leaned forward, even though it did little to minimize the actual distance between us. My breath caught, as I strained my ears to hear him as he whispered.

“I love you, 3000.” My face dropped, a chuckle bubbled out, turning into a laugh, then into a cackle, and finally, I was in bed with tears streaming down my face and I couldn’t catch my breath. Once I finally calm down, I looked at him with a serious face.

“You are the love of my life.”

“And you are the love of mine.”

“I miss you.” Sigh.

“I’ll be home soon.”

“You’ll always come back, right? Back home? Back to me?”

“Always.”

That night, neither one of us hung up, content to still in a comfortable silence until he fell asleep. Then I soon followed, the sound of his breathing lulling me to sleep with one word on my mind.

Always.

Voyage n.

I watched the sun sink beneath the tall buildings. The sky had been graying all day and with the dark clouds rolling in, all the signs pointed to a storm.

But there was going to be more than one storm tonight.

Hours over the stove, wasted as the meal sits in the oven waiting to be eaten. Slowly, they lose their heat, mine steadily rose. The cars filter through the street below, reds, blues, blacks, but not the car I was waiting for. The rain falling on the street, coloring it dark; the hum of electricity fresh in the air as a flash of lightening lit up my face in the window. I looked around my dark apartment and felt empty. With a huff, I head to the bathroom, limbs stiff from sitting folded up on the couch, waiting. I looked at the mirror, sighed, turned, and left. Walking through the dark apartment, I heard thunder booming overhead, followed by a crack of lightening, brightening the room for a second, before being shrouded again.

Four times. Now, five times, he had missed our date. There was no text, no call, no note. Nothing, there was nothing.

There was one thing: loneness.

There were two things: loneness and anger. Two things that don’t work well together. One eats at the mind, and the other eats at the soul.

Hours passed, and I was still alone, sitting on the couch. Still waiting. That’s what this relationship was, waiting: waiting up for him to come back after practice, waiting for him to come home after months of being away, waiting for him to show up to dates, waiting for love. That was the hardest part, the love. Being away from each other as often as we are, you don’t feel loved—I don’t feel loved. Nights spent lying in bed waiting for him to hold me. Days spent waiting for any sign of life on his end. And the in between spent always waiting.

It was a moonless night because of the storm, still pounding away. They say thunderstorms are caused by the Greek God, Zeus, king of the sky, when he’s angry. How I shared his rage tonight. How I wanted to scream at him, but no sound came out. Nothing came out. The door beeped, then opened; shoes kicked to the floor, and keys hung up on the rack. A sigh fell from the doorway. I looked at my watch, the glow threw shadows around the living room as it read: 11:23 p.m. Steps heard, a light clicked on, a name is called—my name. I didn’t answer. I couldn’t.

My named echoed through the apartment, he wondered into the living room—light still off.

“Baby, what are you doing sitting in the dark?” A chuckle falls from his lips, a sigh from mine.

“Waiting.” My mouth too dry to put power behind it, so it came out as a whisper.

“What?” He made his way closer to me, only halfway to the couch I was curled on.

“Waiting.” It was a little louder this time.

“Honey, speak up. You’re whispering.” He was almost in front of me know, I could smell his sweat mixing with his deodorant.

“WAITING! I SAID I WAS WAITING FOR YOU!” A crash of thunder boomed in time with my declaration. He stood, staring at me like I had grown another head.

“I’m sorry.” With my chest heaving, I pulled myself off the couch, making my way to leave the room to cool down. I passed him and he grabbed my arm, halting me. I turned to face him, his eyes moving quickly over me—searching for the reason of my outburst. A crack of lightening spilt the sky and lit his brown eyes that were wide with worry.

“W-What’s wrong? What happened, Angel?” He grasped my hands and held them in between us. I scoffed, head shaking. Did he really forget? Something so important—a date—and he doesn’t even know what he did wrong? I let it go the first few times, but this—this tipped the scales.

“You forgot.” I spoke, words filled with a venom that I could feel the burning at my tongue and throat, itching to get out. I stared at our connected hands, frustration filling me up, I could see it collect in the corner of my eyes. The wind started to slam against the windows, as another clap of thunder sounded.

“Oh, Sweetheart. I am so sorry. I got hel—”

“You got held up at practice.” I laughed, because of course he did. He always did. I was beginning to feel hot; I dropped his hands and crossed mine. He reached out for me, but I stepped away—needing space.

“Darling—”

“Stop with the nicknames, Johnny! Stop trying to defuse the situation!” I paced around the living room—still in the dark—trying to ease the anger. Johnny walked away to turn the light on; the room bathed in a hue of gold. He was wearing those sweatpants that fit him just right, and a black long sleeve; a tired look on his face, but his eyes were guarded—trying to read my fire-filled ones.

“There is no situation, I don’t see why it is such a big deal if I miss a date.” Annoyed—that’s what he was, he was annoyed with me. But the feelings I had, were worse.

“Oh? So, that’s how you feel about it? You don’t care about our dates? The only thing you seem to care about is work.” My back was turned, I didn’t want him to see me cry.

“Are you fucking kidding me? The only—Wow. What is wrong with you?!” The level of his voice was rising—so was mine.

“What’s wrong with me?! You have missed five dates, Johnny!” I turned around in time to see his eyes rolling. “No calls, no text, no heads up! I would have been fine, but I stood for hours over the stove cooking your favorite meal! I had set the table all nice, I got your favorite wine, your favorite candles, and your favorite music! But you just didn’t show up—too busy dancing with your friends—leaving me alone!” Hands thrown up in the air, I moved into a corner of the room.

“Do you want to know what you sound like right now? You sound like a brat.” The word being spat out of his mouth. “You think I’m just singing and dancing all day?! I am working my ass off to make people happy! I work all day, and I just want to come home and sleep!” There it was, the guilt, beginning to build in my gut. “You knew what you signed up for going into this relationship, you knew that things weren’t going to be easy! But here you are, whining like a little bitch because I missed some dates!” The storm outside matched the storm inside, the loud rage was inescapable.

“What did you just call me? A Bitch? I—Ok.” I ran my hands through my hair, I was boiling now, nothing was going to stop the war he just laid out. “I do know what I signed up for! But when you’re in a relationship, things go both ways, Johnny! I don’t think you recognize that! When was the last time you planned a date? When was the last time you went out of your way to do something nice? When was the last time you showed me you cared? I don’t remember, and after all of this, I doubt you do.”

“Are we serious arguing over this?”

“Don’t change the subject!”

“We are seriously fighting over a date?! A DATE?!”

“ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION!” The windows rattled from the thunderous boom. The storm or the shout? That is something that will be unknown for the rest of time.

“What is this really about? Are you jealous? Are you jealous at the fact that I do something I love? Are you jealous because you work a meaningless desk job?” My mouth dropped. One of my biggest regrets was not pursuing what I wanted to in college, I did what my parents wanted and that was shared in secret with him. Late night talks, quiet whispers so no one in the world could hear our confessions.

“I can’t believe that’s what you think this is about! I know you love your job! I love seeing you happy because of it! I-I just can’t keep this up.” Tiredness just rolled over me as I was sitting down on the couch, and holding my head in my hands. The storm still raging outside.

“This?” He sneered.

“This! You! Coming here late every time you stay over! Dates spent here, your place, or some random restaurant at 10 at night! Not seeing you for weeks at a time! You’re never here anymore, Johnny! There’s always some excuse as to why you can’t come over. And sometimes there’s nothing at all!” The rain on the windows matched the tears on my face. “I’M SO LONELY, AND YOU DON’T EVEN CARE!” My chest heaves for a different reason as sobs echoed through the apartment. I spared a glance at him, the anger was gone, replaced with realization and sadness. His hands shook, eyes searching around the room, mouth slightly open, trying to find something—anything—to say. But the damage was done.

An eternity had passed, but only mere minutes had. One question weighed on my mine. One that needed to be said. One that could change everything.

“Do you even want this anymore?” My eyes shut, waiting for his response. But none came. When I opened them, he was standing in the doorway, mouth open, eyes frantic. With a sigh, I rose from the couch and headed to the door. I walked by him and when he didn’t say anything, I scoffed. I slipped my shoes on and unlocked the door.

“Wh-Where are you going?” He sounded so small. My baby—no, not anymore. He may not have answered the question, but his silence did.

“I don’t know.” It was like I took a backseat to the situation and I was now only watching it.

“When are you coming back?” Opening the door was the easiest and hardest thing I had done all night.

“I don’t know.”

“I’m sorry.” I hummed in response, slipping out the door.

I don’t know how long I walked for, but the moment I had stepped outside, I was soaked by the rain and guilt. It wasn’t cold though; it was surprisingly warm. I had shut my phone off after Johnny had left his 6th voicemail. I want to be alone, but my thoughts kept me company. The mind likes to bring up memories, I found, after a something like this. Mornings spent waking up to breakfast in bed with a loving kiss in between bites, soft pouts led to a forkful of food, and warm gazes fueled breakfast being forgotten for a little while. Beautiful flowers placed on my desk at work, with a dorky note attached to it; doorbells rang with deliveries of even more flowers when he was gone for months at a time. Date nights that came to an end with a slow dance in the living room as music circled us from some random playlist on his phone in his pocket, after a while, hands, and lips begin to wander, one pulling the other down the hall to the bedroom. Late nights shared in bed, hair slighted messed, hands tracing shapes onto skin, lips moving in hushed whispers, and eyes full of love. Sleepless, nightmare filled nights, glasses of water at my beckoned call, hugs were endless, and a soft voice always lulling me back to sleep.

As I sat on the curb of some random street, crying, these memories showed me that he did care. Love is shown and spoken in different ways, and I was so focused on the verbal, rather than the actions. God, I was so stupid. Last week, he had made me lunch for work, he even took the time to cut the fruits into hearts.

I raised my head up and looked towards the sky, rain hitting me in the face. I sighed, then reached into my pocket, and tried to turn on my phone, but a black screen stared back at me. This night couldn’t possibly even get worse. So, I stood up and tried to find a street sign to figure out where in the hell I was. I spotted one above a bookstore and figured that I was about a 30-minute walk away from my apartment. From the love of my life. Walking in soaking wet clothes and shoes in the rain is very much uncomfortable, but it had to be done to get back to my life.

Street after street I grew closer, after some wrong turns and a very nice lady who gave me directions, I was almost home. As I waited at a crosswalk, I heard something being called from across the street. But I ignored it, it was most likely nothing, just a random noise from the city. When the light changed, I heard it again, this time sounding like my name, growing louder. I made it across the street when I heard it clearly, this time I looked to where the sound was coming from. Combing the streets, I saw brown hair, a black long-sleeve, and track pants that fit just right. I started down the sidewalk, tears forming in my eyes, and a smile on my face. His back was to me when I met him, so I ran into him at full force engulfing him in a hug, starting to sob.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I was dumb and I know you love me.” He turned in my arms and wrapped his own around me. I looked up, his hair was wet, and his shirt was soaked. Tears fall down his face, his eyes sparkling. I raised a hand to his cheek, he pressed into the warmth, and I wiped away a tear, only for it to be replaced by the rain.

“I’m so, so sorry, Johnny.” He took my hand and kissed my palm. “I-I was being selfish and I didn’t see all that you did for me. Can you forgive me?”

“Always, Baby. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t loved, because I love you so much, and my heart broke when you said that.” He dropped his head into my neck as his shoulders shook with tears, his hands gripping the back of my shirt like I was going to disappear from his hold. “I let you down, you didn’t feel loved when all you were doing was giving me love. I wasn’t doing-I wasn’t being enough for you. I’m sorry.” He broke down, he’s sobs echoing into the night. We stayed like that, in the rain, until he started to hiccup, my hands soothing up and down his back when he calmed down. I took his face back into my hands and raised him so he could face me.

“Look at me, Handsome. Please look at me.” When he opened his eyes, they were sparkling and red. I brushed his wet hair out of his face and put a smile on mine.

“Johnny, you are enough for me. Mornings with breakfast in bed, surprise flowers when you’re away, lunches when your home, dances in the living room. You show me your love, and I appreciate everything you do for me.” I reach up to place kisses all over his face, making sure to cover every inch, I wanted him to feel my love.

Here we stood, in the rain, in the middle of the city, staring into each other’s eyes. His hand raises up to hold my face, and I hold my breath. He leans in, slowly I close the gap. I melt into him; his lips were soft against mine—there was no rush. We broke apart, with rain falling onto us, I break away from his arms, grabbed his hand and walked towards the apartment. In the light of the city, hand in hand, we felt the love for each other again—in that moment he became my everything, and I wouldn’t have traded it for the world.

Wander v.

The night was full of life during the walk we took in through the city. Lights glowing, shinning onto his beautiful face; with our hands entwined we made our way to some unknown destination. Papaya Acres Café. I laughed as I saw the café.

“Do you remember that day? The one where we met? I was a mess; I was surprised that you even had the balls to ask me out on a date after I rubbed my snot into your sweatshirt.” In the moment, it was probably one of the most embarrassing times of my life. Now, it is a funny memory that gets laughs when we tell people how we met.

“Of course, I did! It’s not every day you bump into an angel and make them cry, so I had to do something to make you smile again.” His hand squeezed mine as we entered the café, the bell chimed as he held the door open.

“Why, thank you, kind sir.” A curtsy.

“The pleasure is mine, my lady.” A bow. Followed by giggles.

“Welcome to Papaya Acres. What can I get for you?”

“Handsome, I’m going to the bathroom. Order for me?” With a nod, I turned and went into the bathroom. Soft jazz played through the green tiled room as I entered a stall. I wrung my hands into a paper towel and headed back into the café. Johnny was sitting at a table near the pick-up counter. My chaired squeaked when I pulled it back; wincing, I sat down.

“I missed you.” His lips pouted, face sitting in his hands, eyes soft.

“I was gone for like three minutes, Loser.” I laughed out.

“I always miss you when you aren’t around.” I pulled one of his hands from his face and held it in my own, comparing the size difference. I hummed as I laced our fingers together.

“I missed you too.” A playful smile appeared on my lips.

“Here is your order.” I looked over and saw three cups? Huh, that’s weird. Maybe Johnny wanted to try a new drink or something.

“Thank you. Have a good night.” He got up to pick up the drink tray, and I waited for him in the middle of the café. My hand got cold when he passed me my drink—I drink iced coffee, no matter the seasons—and his were now full with his two drinks. Putting my drink near his face, he took a sip from the yellow straw, humming in delight when he pulled away.

“You got two drinks? What kind did you get?” When he told me, neither of which was something that I was going to try; when one of us orders something, the other automatically gets to have a taste of it, it’s a rule we made after many meals were pouted over because no one would share.

Walking through the park down the street from the café, arms bumping as our laughs reverberated on the trees and buildings around us.

“My dad knew I liked beans. So, he was like playing with beans. Then he dropped it, and then he dropped a rock. And then it slid, and then hot water started falling. And then, coffee.”

“You actually think I believe that? Johnny, I’m not Mark.” I chuckled.

“Hey, don’t be mean to Mark.” He chuckled back. He walked over to a trash can and tossed mine and the cup he had been nursing away, leaving the untouched cup in his grasp. He, now having a free hand, connected in the middle, brought our clasped hands to his face and placed a gentle kiss on my knuckles, his fingers running over my ring finger—something he had only started doing recently, but I paid no mind. I looked at his face, and he wore a serious expression—his thinking face: eyebrows furrowed, and lips pursed.

“What are you thinking about, my love?” My free hand brushing away some hair that had fallen into his eyes. He sighed; a small smile played on his lips.

“I was thinking about how it would look if you had a ring right here.” He pressed on my ring finger. I laughed with a smile. He looked at me with wide eyes; I looked at the cup in his hand, he was shaking.

“Johnny? Honey, you’re shaking. Are you ok?” My hands cupping his face now, I searched for the reason for his sudden nerves. His eyes snap to mine as he takes my hands off his face, and he steps away. My heart is now in my throat, as my mind races to find out what was causing his anxiety. My hand, acting on its own, reaches out for him, but he only laughs with his head down.

“You are truly something different, you know? You are the reason I get out of bed now; there are days when I don’t want to go to work, days were I just want to give up, but then there you are with your cute little texts, cheering me on, notes left from the last time you were at the dorm. When practice runs long and I can’t give anymore, you pop into my head, and then I remember that tonight you are waiting for me to come home—so I push ten times harder.” He cleared his throat, and shook the cup in his hands, a dull rattle followed. He swallowed. “I know it isn’t easy being in a relationship with me, the dates, the secrecy, but you are always there.” He brought his hand up to push away hair that wasn’t there. “God, this is hard.” He whispered, his hand moving to run down his face.

“What’s hard?” He looks at me. He shook the cup again; the same rattle came from within it.

“I want you to be there.”

“What? I’m right here, Baby.” Now it was my turn to furrow my brows—in confusion.

“I want you to be with me. For as long as you’ll let me. I want to grow old with you; have kids, have a family—maybe a dog. I want to dance with you in our home when we have gray hair and wrinkles.” I get it now. He chuckles. “You are so beautiful, and I just want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to make breakfast with you, I want to go grocery shopping with you, I want to do puzzles with you—”

“I hate puzzles, Loser.”

“That’s beside the point, don’t interrupt—it’s rude. Where was I?” The rattle started again.

“You were listing things you wanted to do with me.”

“Oh, thank you.” He cleared his throat. “I want to sit with you in the living room and just spend the day reading, I want to take you out and have photoshoots that I can post for everyone to see. I want you, Baby. I’ve never wanted anything so much.” I smile and move to close the distance.

“Johnny Suh, are you asking me to marry you?” A rattle.

“Well, duh. But now you ruined it.” He whined.

“I didn’t ruin anything. Now, go ahead and ask me. Should I practice my surprised face first? Hold on, I need to warm up.” I started pulling faces with different sound effects and hand motions. He let out a long whine and stamped his feet a little.

“Stop,” He drug out, “This is serious.” I cleared my throat, wiped my hands on my legs, and pushed my hair out of my face.

“Of course,” Serious face, “Continue.”

“I love you with my whole heart, you never stop running through my mind, you are magnetic. And I can’t help but to be draw to you.” He popped the lid on the coffee cup and stuck his hand in, pulling something into his fist. Then he got down on one knee. “My love. Will you marry me?”

Remember when I said I don’t cry in public? Not only has this man made me a liar not once, or twice, but now three times. I guess, you could say that I wanted to make him sweat a little bit.

“Let me see…” I tapped a finger on my chin as I began to walk around him. Adding to the act, I hummed and muttered, nodding, and shaking my head. When I got in front of him, I covered his hands in mine and stared into his eyes.

“Of course.” I whispered. He jumped up, picked me up and spun me around. When he set me down, he took my hand and slipped the ring onto my finger. He kissed the ring, then me. There we were, in the park at 10 p.m., with our love in the air.

“I love you.” Were the words we whispered for the rest of our lives.

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Thank you for reading! I hope that you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought!

I could possibly be interested in writing more of these if you guys like, doesn’t matter the length, member, or group. Just send in a word or words, member/group, and if you want it angsty or fluffly!

Thank you again!

#nct #nct 127 #nct imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct johnny imagines #nct 127 johnny imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #johnny imagines #johnny suh imagines #johnny seo imagines

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shuahoonie · 5 years ago

Text

everyday. [tom holland]

PAIRING: college!tom holland x female!reader

SUMMARY: somebody call disney because you and tom met in the cheesiest way possible. karaoke was involved. so was high school musical. you could say it’s pretty meta.

WARNINGS: swearing, i think? some alcohol. hella fluff yall. like sickly fluff.

WORD COUNT: 2639

SONG INSPO: everyday (from disney’s high school musical 2) - troy & gabriella

A/N: hiya babes! get ready for a long ass note! first off, with everything that’s happening around the world, i hope that you guys are safe and you’re taking good care of your health!! i’m sorry if i’ve been away for quite a while, i’m really trying to be better at this.

anyway, wrote this lil’ imagine for you guys since i can’t get this concept out of my head. i based it off on the tiktok that i saw and i just couldn’t help but write about it. i hope this piece provides a short distraction, something that we need from time to time. thanks and enjoy!

stay informed. stay safe. wash your hands, people!

(also, the next chapter for the “you” series is still under works and i’m not entirely sure when that’ll be up. hopefully by the end of this week!!)

gif credits: @loooo-lou

vanessa’s masterlist

“It’ll be fun, Y/N,” Your friend Kimmy said with a huge smile, dragging you to the student lounge located on the west side of the campus.

"You’re just saying that because you’re part of the organizing committee,” You mumbled as you tried to hold on to your binder full of this week’s readings.

You were basically camping in the library the whole day as you tried to conquer the list of things that you had to do for the whole week. You were already knee-deep with your readings just for that research paper from one of your psych classes alone so what more from the other classes right?

It was already a rough couple of days for you and you definitely needed this as a break-whatever this is. Kimmy was basically doing you a favour.

“Okay, but you like High School Musical that’s why you had to go.” She pointed out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“I enjoy it,” You stressed, “To say that I like it would be an exaggeration.”

“Bitch, please” Kimmy snorted as you two found an empty booth at the lounge. “You can practically quote the whole trilogy and you can sing the songs like ABC’s.”

You just glared at her and made yourself comfortable, “This better be worth it, Kim. I am losing sleep because of my research paper and I can’t spend my spare time doing other things.”

“Honey,” Kimmy gasped as she put both her hands on top of your shoulders “Are you even hearing yourself? You know you can take a break, right?! No, actually you have to take a break.”

You sighed and just succumbed in defeat as your friend clasped her hands in excitement. “This is going to be great, Y/N.” She said in glee. “The org’s providing dinner tonight so you don’t have to worry about that. Also, we have karaoke set up and you can win at least a £50 gift card if you scored like a 90 and above.”

“Wow, free dinner and a gift card?!"

“The org’s also serving alcohol if you really want to take an edge off,” Kimmy winked giving you a light nudge.

“Now, there’s alcohol? Why didn’t you lead with that, you bitch!” You gasped, jokingly.

Kimmy rolled her eyes, “Okay, I’ll get back to you later. I have to check with the others if the food’s ready.”

“Mkay,” You murmured as you pulled out your readings and took out your stack of sticky notes. “I mean, I think I can squeeze a bit of reading.”

You tried to do a bit of your reading but with how they set up the lighting at the lounge, it was nearly impossible. They dimmed the lights and set up a few red lights in the corners of the lounge, the red popping out and setting the tone for the whole event. Fairy lights were put out as well, giving enough light to see the decorations that they did.

It was High School Musical themed so you did expect a whole lot of red and white colours popping every now and then. Boy, you were definitely feeling the wildcat spirit.

Knowing well enough that you weren’t going to accomplish any of your research work, you made the decision to scroll on your phone. After spending a good few minutes scrolling on Instagram, you’ve decided to take a quick video to post on your Instagram story.

You posted the story with the caption saying: “high school musical karaoke night! @/kimmydelacruz thnx also u have to sing with me, i can’t possibly do it myself.”

Kimmy was in the kitchen when a pair of arms snuck its way and were wrapped around her waist, “Hi babe, you okay?”

“’m okay, love. Don’t worry,” Kimmy replied as she viewed her friend’s story, rolling her eyes in amusement. “Hey, Haz, did you manage to bring in more people?”

“Uh, not a lot. Tom and a couple of mates from my kinesiology class are here though,” Harrison settled his chin on the crook of Kimmy’s neck. “What’cha watching, babe?”

“Oh, it’s just Y/N’s story. She posted about our HSM-themed karaoke night and she wants me to sing with her, hoping that she can claim that gift card.” Kimmy replied as she continuously tapped on her phone, skipping a lot of stories from other people.

Harrison hummed, “Babe, you know we can’t participate right?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“You know, Tom really wants that gift card too, he wouldn’t stop saying how he would risk his reputation for that 50,” Harrison pointed out. “Tom’s gone mental, I’m telling ‘ya.”

Kimmy locked her phone and shoved it in the back pocket of her jeans. She turned to Harrison with a smirk playing on her face. “Haz, my love, has Tom ever met Y/N before?”

Harrison took a good look at his girlfriend, he knows that devious smile anywhere. “Babe, what are you planning?”

“You are the music in me,” A couple was on stage, trying their shot on the karaoke. The karaoke was now jumbling to flash the scores, the couple were both waiting in anticipation.

“A bloody 81?” The girl yelled, appalled. She was trying to pull a serious face but a laugh was threatening to come out. “I have harnessed my vocal cords for this and all I got was a bloody 81?”

The crowd couldn’t help but laugh at her comment. Their singing wasn’t bad, “maybe it was just the machine” as they said.

“Why don’t you give it a go, mate?” Harrison nudged Tom, who was taking a sip of his beer. Harrison dropped by to check up on his mates when he found Tom, who was sitting at one of the booths along with a couple of mates from class.

“Haz, mate, are you sure you want me to go up there?” Tom asked, laughing. “Might I remind you that you were the same person who practically begged me to not embarrass you in front of people.”

“Yeah, ’m starting to regret even saying a mere word,” Harrison muttered to himself. “But I know you're not one to turn down karaoke, let alone have the opportunity to get £50 along innit,” Harrison said, placing a hand on Tom’s shoulder.

“Alright, c’ mere, mate.” Harrison stood up and walked towards the karaoke machine. He punched a couple of numbers to a song and gave Tom the mic.

“Mate, you are making a big mistake.” Tom chuckled, happily grabbing the mic. As soon as Tom saw the song that was playing on the screen, he quickly pressed the ‘pause’ button and grabbed Harrison’s arm before he left the stage “Mate, hold on, this is a duet.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Oh, so you know, do ‘ya?” Tom mocked. “Well, come on, mate. I am not going to sing this alone, ‘cause ‘ya know, a duet means two people.” Tom laughed, doing an impression of Sharpay’s infamous line. Tom loves binging the High School Musical movies and he isn’t afraid to say that.

“Absolutely not, mate,” Harrison stressed, making Tom raise his brow. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, Tom, but there’s no way I’m singing tonight. Why did you think I volunteered to be part of the organizing committee?”

“Uh, because you couldn’t say no to Kim?” Tom countered.

“That and I’m not allowed to participate. Mate, if you want to win the gift card, you would have to find someone else to sing up here with you,” Haz explained.

Tom let out a sigh, “I guess you’re right.”

“I’m always right,” Harrison pointed out jokingly.

“Alright, but who am I-” Before Tom even got the chance to finish his sentence, Harrison quickly left the stage. He looked over at the table where his friends were and asked, “Connor, mate, do you want to sing up here with me?”

Connor shook his head insanely fast. “Absolutely not, Tom. Have you forgotten that I am tone-deaf? I do not want to embarrass myself in front of people.”

Tom turned towards Brandon and he shook his head as well. “Mate, I only came here for the food and drinks, remember?”

“Great,” Tom muttered. He looked around the crowd, trying to figure out if he even wants to even push through this at all.

“You still doing okay, Y/N?” Harrison asked as soon as he approached you. You just saw Harrison walk off stage after he finished talking to some guy who was about to sing.

You gave him a nod as soon as you took a sip of the hard lemonade that they were serving at the bar. “Shouldn’t be drinking, but I really wanted one so...” You trailed off as you raised your cup at him. You wanted a drink but not something that would give you a headache after.

“Eh,” Harrison shrugged. “You deserve to relax from time to time. Heard from Kimmy that you’ve been stressing a lot on that research paper of yours.”

“Thanks,” you muttered. Harrison quickly excused himself, saying that Kimmy was looking for him, which you just dismissed him anyway.

You were scrolling on your phone when you heard someone clear their throat. “Sorry, but have you seen Harrison?”

You looked up and made contact with a gorgeous pair of brown eyes. He was the same guy who was on the stage not too long ago. You recognized him from the photos that Harrison posts on his Instagram.

One drunken night, you were sitting next to Kimmy as she mindlessly scrolled through her boyfriend’s photos on Instagram. You both came across the photo of Harrison and his friends, sitting at a luxe sofa, assuming that they were at an event. Harrison was sitting next to his friend who was wearing a white button-up shirt, his legs sprawled. This was the same night you admitted to your best friend, that you found Harrison’s friend cute.

Well, he looks cuter up close.

“Uh, yeah, he just left and said that he has to meet Kimmy. Think they’ll be back quick though, I practically begged Kimmy to sing with me on stage.” You explained.

He nodded understandingly. “You here for the 50 quid?” He asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Yeah, I’m in university and am broke. I’d do anything for that 50.”

“Oh, I hear ‘ya,” He laughed “However, I do remember Haz telling me that the organizers aren’t allowed to participate though.”

“You’re kidding,” You said in disbelief. This was news to you as you were really looking forward to singing up there and getting that prize money. Well, you were looking forward to singing with someone to get that prize money.

“I’m afraid not, darling.” He chuckled. “Trust me, I asked Harrison to sing with me as well.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” You muttered. Well, tonight could be worse. At least you had a free meal.

“Hold on, what would you say if we both get up there and sing?” He asked with a bright look on his face.

“Are you joking?” You asked, taken back with the idea that a stranger (sort of) is asking to sing with you.

“Absolutely not,” He insisted “It’s not like we have anything to lose-”

“Besides my dignity” You claimed.

“C’mon,” He laughed “If anything, we can only gain from this moment.”

“Which is?”

“That prize money,” He listed off using his fingers. “A night to remember,” He continued.

You nodded after every point until he said, “Maybe romance?” He suggested cheekily.

“Shut up,” You murmured shyly, feeling your cheeks burn. You took a minute before you grabbed your cup of hard lemonade and finished the rest of your drink. “Alright, loverboy, c’mon.”

You stood up and followed the stranger to the karaoke machine. You couldn’t believe it, you’re actually singing with someone you don’t know.

He handed you a spare mic before he pressed the ‘play’ button and not long after, you heard the intro to the song that brought you nostalgia.

“Once in a lifetime, means there’s no second chance

So I believe that you and me, should grab it while we can,” He was looking at the screen to guide himself with the lyrics and started singing, surprising you that he had a wonderful voice.

He was becoming more and more attractive to you and you didn’t even know his name.

“Make it last forever and never give it back,” You sang into the mic, reading off the screen as well. You know this song by heart so god knows why you’re all of a sudden reading off the screen.

This was a whole new experience for you. You usually do karaoke in a private room with a couple of very close friends, and this is the complete opposite: you were singing in public with a stranger.

“Because this moment’s really all we have,” Your voices melded together smoothly, which shocked you if you were being honest. It’s as if you were both meant to sing together.

“Every day of our lives,” He was now facing you, stepping a bit closer to you.

“Wanna find you there, wanna hold on tight,” You faced him and did the same thing as well, taking a step closer to him.

“Gonna run,”

“While we’re young and keep the faith,”

“Every day,” He took another step closer. “From right now, Gonna use our voices and scream out loud.”

“Take my hand,” You sang, holding out your hand. At this point, you were convinced that the spirit of Gabriella Montez has taken over your body. Y/N Y/L/N would never be this bold.

He gladly took your hand, a smile was permanently painted on his face, “Together we will celebrate.”

“Oh, every day.”

The instrumental kicked in and you two were really feeling the music when he leaned over into your ear and said, “Never would’ve pegged you to know this song, darling.”

You laughed softly and said, “I should be the one saying that.”

You two carried on singing, having an absolute blast. Never in a million years would you have imagined for this moment to happen, it felt too good to be true.

“Every day,” You both sang the last line with your faces in close proximity. How did this happen? Maybe it was the alcohol? Maybe you two were just so into it that it felt right? No one knows.

As you two were waiting for the karaoke machine to show your score, the guy leaned in and said, “Darling, I don’t think I even got your name.”

“Y/N,” You said with a smile and offered your hand.

“Y/N” He repeated with a warm smile, shaking your hand. “What a lovely name, darling, I’m Tom.”

“It was a pleasure to sing with you, Tom.” You said, laughing softly.

Tom brought your hand up to his lips, “Oh, trust me, darling, the pleasure is all mine.” He disclosed placing a gentle kiss on the top of your hand, leaving your cheeks burning.

Maybe you and Tom were so into the moment that you didn’t even realize that Harrison and Kimmy joined you on stage. “Alright, give it up for tonight’s real-life Troy and Gabriella!” Kimmy yelled to the crowd, in which they happily obliged and gave you and Tom a thunderous cheer.

“Okay, lovebirds, in case you didn’t notice-which I know you didn’t,” Harrison pointed out “You two scored a 91, so here are your gift cards.” He handed you both a gift card each.

“Use it well.” Kimmy teased, in which you rolled your eyes and nudged your best friend.

“Well, I guess this is our start of something new, huh?” Tom whispered in your ear, a teasing smile playing on his face.

TAGLIST: (if u guys are interested hehe)

@thomasthetankson @autty0314 @marvelous-tswiftfan @averyfosterthoughts @theolwebshooter @jackiehollanderr @sltwins @herondalescecilys @notjustpenandpaper @ihopethatwemeetinanotherlife @gothicwidowsworld @heartofholland @stxfxniexreads @peruvian-bae @hollands-osterfield @thenoddingbunny-blog @galacticstxrdust @sweartomendes @itsjstz @muade-mua-de @hayoosh2

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recurring-polynya · 4 years ago

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Do you think Renji smokes cigs? I personally think he used to, ya know the whole “imma tough badass in squad 11” image/mentality. But then quit upon promoting to squad six. He occasionally partakes in one every once in awhile if he’s feeling overwhelmed and in need of an escape. How do you think Rukia would react to catching him smoking?

Quick PSA: Polynya-blog does not endorse smoking! It’s bad for you, don’t start! If you already smoke, I am absolutely not judging you. I assume my readers know how to make their own decisions! I admit that I grew up in the 1980s and smoking is burned into my psyche as something that is simultaneously gross and cool-looking. I am very sorry to be like this.

With that out of the way, ABSOLUTELY. Renji was in Squad 11 in the ‘70s and ‘80s, and I believe, with 100% of my being, that place was an utter smokestack.

That being said, I think Renji actually picked up the habit back in Inuzuri. My headcanon is that cigs are hard to get in Inuzuri and far more valuable than worthwhile to consume. (I have expounded before on the quality of alcohol available in South 78 and all I can say is that the smokes are worse). Nevertheless, I am sure all five of tried them a few times in their childhood, coughing and hacking and turning their faces green and the making fun of each for being wusses. I have a lot of late Inuzuri headcanons, when they are adolescents, and I think they both worked odd jobs from time to time, and Renji did a lot of “muscle” jobs. He had to take up smoking in order to look older and fit in with his unsavory colleagues. Rukia would never let him be better at anything than her, so she used to steal his cigs a lot and smoke them in front of him. Rukia is very good at smoking elegantly, and Renji found this to be embarassingly attractive. Occasionally, she would lift some from someone else and share with him. Rukia has never paid for a cigarette in her life.

Renji quit cold turkey when they went to school. Rukia would steal them from rich kids from time to time and smoke them as an act of rebellion and Renji would yell at her.

Obviously, Rukia quit after she was adopted. She probably got caught at it once, in her earliest days, and got her hand smacked with a ruler by her governess or whoever. Byakuya knows nothing about it.

Renji picked up smoking again in his later days at the Fifth, when he stopped caring about things and enjoyed getting on Izuru and Momo’s nerves. At that point, it was just a now-and-then thing, which turned into a full fledged habit when he transferred to the 11th.

I don’t think Renji was ever a chain smoker. Even in his shittiest times, he was still a gym rat, and he values his lung capacity. Can cigarettes even kill you when you’re already a ghost? I posit that they cannot, but they cause respiratory distress and make you smell bad. Renji and Iba smoke different brands and refused to smoke each other’s, although they do take smoke breaks together, and firmly agree on the rules of smoking in the room (it’s allowed, but windows must be open and always use an ashtray). I think Renji actually quit prior to leaving Squad 11. I think the negative health impacts were starting to be a big deal in the Living World around the time he was getting serious about making lieutenant, and he made Ikkaku and Iba quit with him. Ikkaku kept cheating until Yumichika quit to show off how easy it was.

I agree that he still likes one now and again when he’s stressed out, and also right after something stressful is over and he needs to come down from it.

Renji has lit up on the grounds of Squad Six exactly once, and it was after Byakuya announced he had no intention of trying to get Rukia’s execution stayed. It did not make him feel better.

In modern times, Renji will occasionally stress-smoke with the other lieutenants who stress smoke (Iba, Matsumoto, Hisagi, Nanao --yes, Nanao absolutely stress smokes, Akon), but otherwise tries to be subtle about it, even though Rukia can almost always tell what he’s up to. For Rukia, Renji lighting up is a big barometer on his mood, and how she reacts depends on what’s going on. If he’s just trying to decompress after a particularly hard week, she may give him some shit about it, because that’s their love language. When there is some seriously bad stuff going on in the Gotei and everyone is on edge, she’ll swipe one of his cigs and smoke one with him as a show of solidarity. If she ever thought he was taking it up in earnest again, she would be concerned, but it doesn’t bother her that he does it once in a while, a bad habit heldover from their rough childhood.

#happy birthday renji!#renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #renruki #bleach headcanons

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assless-chapstick · 5 years ago

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This is me sending myself an ask… because I am boredt and my teeth hurt and I want to lay in bed….

So I ask myself … how are the Couch AU boys coping with the COVID19 lockdown??? Are they ok??

Tbh I think Charles and John are taking it harder than Arthur and Javi. Like, Arthur and Javier are a little more stable, a little more mentally well/neurotypical, and while everyone is finding it hard, I think Charles and John are struggling more than average.

Charles practically lives at John and Arthurs place, so he’s locked down over there; half his stuff is over there already, and while it might be a little crowded, it’s better than him being alone at his place. He doesn’t have any roommates and he needs to have someone around to help with the anxiety and keep him on a schedule. With Arthur around, he doesn’t sink completely into a depression. Sure, he’s finding it hard to focus and stay motivated and he spends a lot more time on the couch, napping and watching jeopardy and comfort-eating, but he’s not completely vacant and spending all day in bed, forgetting to shower or eat like he might if he was alone.

Arthur has a little gym/studio in the spare bedroom where he draws and does his fuckin bowflex or whatever, and they set Charles up there so he can get some studying done and continue to attend classes online. Charles is just finishing his first year of law school and he’s like, determined not to let this whole situation fuck up his academic career, even if he’s a little worried about it all…

Arthur is going a little stir-crazy; he works at an autobody shop, and they closed for a couple weeks at the beginning so he was out of work for a while. He was all “perfect I can work on my art,” but he’s so used to being super busy working two jobs and going to the gym and shit that having so much free time has been stressful to him. He processes a lot of feelings through anger, so the punching bag on the balcony has taken some pretty rough beatings the past couple weeks…

He’s back at work now, three days a week, so he’s feeling a little better… I think his biggest concern is money, cuz with reduced hours and all the cons he was planning to sell art at being cancelled, his income is reduced, and as a teen/early 20s he struggled a lot so that really scared him… But Dutch and Hosea aren’t too bad off and they’ll help out if he or John are ever in a pinch…

I think Arthur authors/creates a queer cowboy romance webcomic, so he’s been working on that a lot… he’s finally pages ahead and has some updates queued, so if he needs to be can afford to take a break for a week or two! He’s psyched about that. His patreon profits have gone down a little, but he’s got some loyal-ass fans and they’re really helping him thru it, too, I think… and he’s made some new merch for the first time in ages, and has had time to open up more commissions… He and Charles spend a lot of afternoons in the study, listening to Arthur’s vinyls and working together in silence …

So Arthur is doing ok, and Charles is pulling through, but John is having a… really rough go. For someone who seems really chaotic, John really really thrives when he had a routine and a set schedule, and with classes being moved online or canceled, he’s really struggling to keep a routine and as a result, his mental health is suffering. It also doesn’t help that he can’t leave the house and can’t see Javi, a major source of security for him. John runs to get his frustration out, and not feeling like it’s safe to go for a run has him feeling really bad.

He and Javi FaceTime every night, but it’s not the same and John is pretty miserable. He spends a lot of time in his room, music Loud, and he stops sleeping with any sort of regularity. The stress also makes his nightmares worse, I think, so he’s spending a lot more time avoiding sleep, which definitely makes him even bitchier than he would be otherwise. That and the situation have him really snappy, so there’s some Big Fights between him and Arthur; fights over nothing, fighting just to have something to do, to just feel something, because he’s angry with the situation and the feelings and everything… He’d just started to get his life on track and here it is, all out of order again. The uncertainty and instability are really unsettling for him.

I think John’s been seeing his therapist online, but it’s not the same, and he really hates it. In the first few weeks, things were all over the place and he forgot to take his meds and stuff… when Arthur noticed something was wrong, he kind of just started gently helping John remember to do things, just gently coaxing him and reminding him to take his pills, etc…

Like Arthur starts making meal at the same time every day, and cooks for all three of them so John remembers to eat… he makes coffee and sings when he makes breakfast to wake John up, and they watch movies and play boardgames and stuff after dinner, just to keep John on a little bit of a schedule. John usually goes to bed in his own room and climbs into Arthur and Charles’ later in the night, but during this whole thing, he starts going to bed with Arthur and Charles, and that helps too...

I think eventually he gets a little more used to it, once he gets back into a routine and then he’s still having trouble, but he’s doing better…

Javi lives in college dorms, so he’s moved back to living with his mum and his sister, which sucks, but that also means he can borrow his mum’s car… so when John is feeling really bad, one day, Javi throws his guitar in the trunk and goes to John and Arthurs place and stands under the balcony and plays all the dumb joke songs he’s written for John… songs called shit like “im sorry I backwashed in your redbull, flaquita” and “youre a pendejo but I love you anyway” and that cheers them both up…

Also, John makes up little care packages and has Arthur drop them off at Javi’s!! little doodles (John’s been practicing drawing but he’s like, crazy bad, just awful) and poems (marginally better, not great), their favourite snacks, little trinkets from around the house and stuff he picks up on his runs (once he starts going on runs again), and of course, of course, cuz he’s nasty, panties that he MAYBE wore on his run, for Javi to, y’know, do with what he will…

And of course they have a lot of phone sex, especially once John pulls it together a bit… at first he kind of went AWOL and didn’t talk to anyone, let his phone go dead and stuff, but he’s doing better now and now they’re… being quarantine horny …

Javi prefers regular voice phonesex, loves to call John up and tease his girl until John whines for him to stop, ask if John is touching himself when Javi can tell by the hitch of his breath that he is… Javi loves that, but not seeing one another, John insists they do videocalls, even if Javi is a little uncomfortable…

But it leads to some… fun roleplay … John pretends to be an innocent starlet trying to make it big, and Javi is a big-time director that keeps on pushing… “you look so good on camera, babe, but maybe take the bra off, let us see how those little titties of yours look? Don’t be shy, it’s all business, just want to see… grab them for me, that’s it, now show me that ass…”

And they also play like Javi is broadcasting the video to everyone, like all his friends can see what a whore Javi’s girl is, how he can suck that dildo like it was a real cock and how desperate he is for it… they pretend Javi is advertising John as if he’s a thing for sale, like Javi is booking John’s ass by the hour…. All “cmon baby, show them how greedy your pussy is, you’re gonna take so many cocks for me tonight, you’ll be leaking cum by the time they’re done with you, you’ll be so sore but you’ll do it for me, won’t you, flaca? Til you’re rubbed raw and then I’ll slide into your wet, gaping hole…”

And of course, of course, John BIG gets off on watching Javi jerk off into the panties he sends him… Javi maybe even… sniffs them, licks them a little, cuz he misses John so bad and he loves the way John looks in the pale yellow, lacy panties he’s got wrapped around his dick, loves the idea of coming in them and then making John put them back on,…

Aaaand that’s that on that, I think!! So thanks for reading, mister, if you’re still out there somewhere. I have dental surgery tomorrow and I’m more scared than a spider in a shoe factory, so please wish me some luck and send me some non-COVID related asks, iffin you’re feeling it!!

#the couch au #COVID19 mention

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psychologyhermione · 4 years ago

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(1/2) I took a mental health assessment on psychology today website and I got tentative positive diagnoses confirmed for Major Depressive Disorder, Maniac Episodes, Generalized Anxiety Disorder& Panic Disorder. I have also been diagnosed as Subclinical/ Symptomatic for Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. It stated that I need to visit a therapist and get a professional diagnosis. I can't afford that, my parents don't believe in therapy. So, can you help me understand what I'm dealing with?

(2/2) Can I cope by myself, alone, without needing any therapy? There's no one I can ask for help. And do you think that assessment might really be correct? The assessment method, I mean. Can you check and tell me your opinion? I answered everything as accurately and precisely as possible. And I do think I have issues but I never thought it'd be this bad. Please, help. I don't really have anyone to talk to and I'm too scared to dm you personally.

—————

Hi, sorry for taking a few days to reply, i hope you’re doing well.

firstly, psychology today is not a reputable website, they are a popular psych magazine but aren’t a scientific peer reviewed resource so please take everything seen on there at face value and not as fact. Secondly, online mental health questionnaires are not of the same quality as being diagnosed by a professional and often times are not very detailed and do not give accurate results. so please do not take these results to mean that you have the disorders that you have listed! because only a professional can properly diagnose you. i’m not trying to discredit the way you’re feeling but there is a lot of misinformation and harm that comes in self or online diagnosis. further you said you have a diagnosis for ptsd, ptsd has a range of symptoms and much of them can cross over with the disorders you listed that the website said you had. so i would highly suggest that you focus on your ptsd and working through that rather than seeking a diagnosis for the other disorders. you said that you thought

you had issues but never this bad, i just wanna to reiterate what i said before about this diagnosis not being very accurate or reputable and the fact that you should listen to yourself and not let this online questionnaire make you stress out or question anything because it may have picked up on parts of your ptsd.

whilst i would love to help you, it is really out of my scope to do so one on one and i could potentially cause more harm then good because while i am a psychology student, i am in no way trained or educated enough to be able to help you work through anything related to mental illnesses. i hope that doesn’t come across as harsh and you can understand x if there is no one in youre life that you can speak to, there are always hotlines you can call and text (I don’t know you country so i can’t list any). I’m sorry that your parents don’t believe in therapy and that you feel like you’re in this alone, ild highly suggest talking to a friend or school counsellor about it, most people are open to talking and helping even if you think they may not be. send me another anon if you want me to clarify anything or chat, i know this is super long but i hope it helped and wasn’t too harsh

#answered

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lilacsos · 5 years ago

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Doctor!SOS

(and Awsten Knight)

A/N: I’m actually super excited to introduce this. I’ve been wanting to do a doctor series since I started this blog and now I’m finally doing it. So this post will be the first instalment to the series and it will be the introductions for all the characters and then next post will be the first writing portion. I’ll have everything sectioned off into the boy they deal with. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, here we go! Also sorry this got long.

Taglist Masterlist

Dr. Ashton Irwin

Sacred Heart is often sought after for in-patient care for mental illnesses. This is because of Dr. Ashton Irwin. He started at Sacred Heart when the psych ward was in its early stages. He quickly worked his way up in the rankings and soon became head of the whole department. Although most heads of departments tend to “keep their hands clean”, Ashton doesn’t feel the same. He takes time to check on as many patients as he can. Dr. Irwin has admitted in the past that the reason he pursued a career in mental health is because of his own personal struggle. While it may not seem obvious for an aspiring psychologist to apply to a young, hardly existing department, it made sense to Ashton. He wanted to find a new department because he would have a chance to really make the department his own. There wouldn’t be any preconceptions about the department based on previous doctors. With all his training and work under his belt, Dr. Irwin is excited to welcome his newest intern, Dr. Vanessa Calhoun.

Moving for work has never been very easy but when you’re in the middle of trying to become a doctor, it’s even harder. Dr. Vanessa Calhoun was working on applying for internship programs at her local hospitals for psychology. She decided to send in an application to Sacred Heart, not because she thought she would get in but because it can’t hurt to try. Imagine her shock when she received an email from the Dr. Ashton Irwin. He’s an award-winning psychologist who works at one of the best hospitals in the county, how could she say no? She packed up her life and moved across the country, leaving her friends and family behind. She just hoped it would be worth it. And now it’s her first day and she’s terrified, excited, nervous, and a little lost.

Ashton has a girlfriend. Lucky her. Chloe Owens is possibly one of the luckiest girls on the planet since she gets to kiss and hold Ashton all she wants. She works in the hospital which you think would be a problem for Ashton but it’s not. She’s only a nurse in the P.I.C.U and so Ashton doesn’t technically work with her. But Luke does and he hates her. Not just because she thinks she has special treatment but because she likes to take some of his interns into the on-call room for an “anatomy lesson.”

Dr. Awsten Knight

Dr. Awsten Knight is in his first week of his internship at Sacred Heart Hospital. Awsten graduated top of his class at Dartmouth College. He began his surgical internship hoping that he would get to study under the famous Dr. Leah Rosario, the best attending surgeon at Sacred Heart. While Knight is an amazing surgeon, his cocky attitude will be his downfall. He knows how amazing he is and he uses it to his advantage. He pushes to get the best patients and the best surgeries. His ego has caused all of the attendings and residents to despise him. No one wants to work with him any longer so he’s been sent to work under Dr. Rosario. While that was exactly what he wanted in the first place, Awsten doesn’t know what he’s in for. Dr. Rosario doesn’t take any shit and refuses to allow her interns to be cocky. Awsten is in for quite the ride. Especially since his attending is very attractive.

Dr. Leah Rosario has no time for bullshit. She is a very busy woman and a very busy surgeon. She is one of the attending surgeons at Sacred Heart and she is the best of the best. She is on course to become head of the department possibly within five to seven years. Which is a long time but she’s been through medical school so five years is nothing to her. When Dr. Rosario was first interning at the hospital, so was Calum Hood. The two quickly acknowledged they had feelings for each other and so their fling began. It was a casual, no strings attached relationship that lasted their intern year before they both moved on. Of course, Leah is still a little heartbroken but she has plenty to worry about. Like her current intern Awsten Knight who seems to think he’s hot shit.

Sage Peterson is a surgical intern and she wants to be the best. But Awsten Knight is making that really hard for her. He’s cocky but he’s amazing and while no one wants to deal with him, he gets the best procedures and Sage is sick of it. She has to find a way to knock Awsten down in the ranks and bring herself higher on the list. Maybe if she turns off his pager? Or throw him down a flight of stairs?

Dr. Calum Hood

Cocky doctors are never anyone’s favorite but Dr. Calum Hood has a reason to be cocky. He’s the best neurologist in the state and number four in the country. Calum worked his ass off to move up in the department and at around the same time Ashton became head of psychology, Calum became head of neurology. If anyone in the hospital has to deal with the brain, they come to Calum. Unless it’s an emergency and then they contact him later. But cockiness aside, Calum is amazing at what he does. He has a calming effect on his patients and yet he creates enough stress and worry for his employees so they respect him and do their work well. Calum tends to stay out of surgery now that he runs the department but when his attendings need someone to teach the interns the best way to do their job, Calum is the best person to call. Which does add to his ego but his closest friend, Dr. Rosie Buchanan, is never afraid to knock him down a peg.

Dealing with cancer every day can be hard for anyone but when you’re the best oncologist in the state, everyone wants to see you in case you can save them. But you can’t cure everyone. Dr. Rosie Buchanan has found herself in this position. She worked her way through Sacred Heart Hospital and now she’s the head of the oncology department. She creates treatment plans for every person that walks into her office, sending them to the most capable person in the ward. She sees death around her every day and to cheer herself up, the best trick she’s found is Dr. Calum Hood. They were interns at the same time and while they didn’t see each other very often, he never failed to cheer her up and she never failed to take a shot at his ego.

Evangeline Benton has been working closely with Calum. She’s his number one attending and she totally has the hots for him. She knows its wrong to have a thing for your boss but does it really even matter when Calum hardly works with her? Afterall, he is head of the department and he doesn’t work with her unless she requests him to come by. Which admittedly she does a lot. But of course, he has to have a thing for Buchanan. She’s amazing and his equal and it isn’t fair. Good thing Evangeline can easily steal him away from her with just a quick page about an annoying intern.

Dr. Michael Clifford

Michael Clifford is also just starting his internship at Sacred Heart. Dr. Clifford prefers to work under pressure and since he does so well, he decided that working in the ER would be best for him. He genuinely isn’t too sure exactly where he will go after his year as an intern but he can cross that bridge when he has to. Sacred Heart has a great internship program for those who want to work in the emergency department. Michael is most excited about is getting to do a lot of hands-on experience but he has some fears too. He can’t help but worry about what will happen when he gets a case that he can’t solve. How will he allow a patient to go and pass and then tell the family what happened? Michael is a sweet guy and he wants to save lives but as his resident Dr. Olivia Mercer continues to remind him, you can’t save everyone.

Dr. Olivia Mercer works in the ER at Sacred Heart and she’s currently a trauma resident. She’s been in the company for a while and she loves her job. Although it’s hard sometimes too. This is her first day as a resident and it’s also her first year with interns following her around. She still takes orders from her attending but she is beginning to make the rules. The first thing she has to tell her interns is going to be the most important information they learn this year. It was the only thing that kept her going during her intern year. “You can’t save everyone.” When there was a patient she couldn’t save, this was the only thing that allowed her to move on and try to save someone else. The ER isn’t for the faint of heart and luckily for her, her heart is made of stone and can take quite a beating. Maybe she should see a cardiologist?

Eric Morton is Olivia’s shitty boyfriend. While he doesn’t cheat on her (that we know of) like Ashton’s girlfriend, he doesn’t think Olivia’s job is important. He gets mad when she’s gone all night and day at work, complaining that she’s never home to cook or clean for him. It’s easy to tell why he’s a shithead but Olivia doesn’t see it. He was her first love and she feels like she could never make it without him. And he knows this. Eric knows that no matter what he does, Olivia will still be at his beck and call. Hopefully, the poor girl can find someone that actually loves her.

Dr. Luke Hemmings

Dr. Luke Hemmings has possibly the best and the worst job in the hospital. Hemmings is one of the attendings in the P.I.C.U or the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. His job is amazing because he gets to work with patients aged from infants all the way up to 17-year-olds. Often times, Luke will have to send in specialists for the children that need specific care but that doesn’t stop him from always checking on them. He adores children and the best part of his day is getting to tell the parents and the child that everything will be fine and the child will be home soon. But on the other side of the coin, there are some kids that Luke just can’t fix. There are kids that come in with stage four brain cancer and the only thing he can do for the child and parent is to give them a room to say goodbye in. It’s all very hard for him but he can always count on Dr. Marjorie Webb to comfort him.

Dr. Marjorie Webb thinks that she has the best job in the whole hospital. She’s an OB/GYN and a great one at that. Expectant parents are always requesting for her to be their doctor and deliver their baby. She has the highest successful birth rate in the hospital but because of this, she’s constantly booked. She’s started to only accept high-risk pregnancies while the other OB/GYNs take the more “routine” births. Dr. Webb started at the hospital around the same time that Dr. Hemmings did and the two became close to the other when Luke couldn’t save a four-year-old girl with seizures. Marjorie took Luke to the nursery and the two held newborn babies while Luke poured his heart out. Ever since that day, the two have been extremely close and Luke always knows he can come to her (and the baby room) when he needs some cheering up.

Jayden Ruiz just started as an attending in the N.I.C.U and he works very closely with Dr. Webb. Whenever there is a newborn that needs intensive care, he’s the first person she calls, since obviously he’s the best at his job. Sometimes she even offers her knowledge to him in order to try and save a baby. But of course, she has a thing for Hemmings. There’s a reason all the women on the birthing ward call him Dr. Hunky. He’s handsome, great at his job, and loves kids. But fuck that guy! Jayden is great too and now he just needs Marjorie to see that.

Tags:

@lustingfor5sos @mycollectionofnuts @ohhmuke @softboycal @norawashere @who-do-you-love-5sos @aftermidnightclifford @buggy-blogs @astrosashton @katiaw2 @littlesinnersins @bbyboyycal @rosecoloredash

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havenesa-sera-fina · 5 years ago

Text

Hidden Marks (Part 2)

Description: I wasn’t stupid.I wasn’t blind.I wasn’t ignorant.

I knew for a fact that those seven handsome people were my soulmates, and that was the very reason why I stayed away.

(Poly BTS/OT7 x Reader/OC)

College Au / Soulmate Au

Disclaimer: Bts isn't my or any real life people (obviously.) Any other characters are my though. This is my story so do not republish this anywhere or I will report.

There maybe some triggers, but I will address them within the chapters.

Sources: Wattpad

Word count: 2452

"Cutie Sera!" A voice yelled, cutting through the noise of the crowd, causing some to stare and give annoyed glances. Most importantly, causing me too nearly choke of my coffee as I looked up, to find an ever so excited Lilia.

She skipped over to me, and I looked behind the two figures following close behind her. There were always two behind her.

Jimin and the ray of sunshine that is Hoseok, with his strong jawbone, high cheekbones and his perfect cupid nose. Honestly it just wasn't fair to normal people with how handsome he looked, and to add it all up, his never wavering cheerfulness and that smile of his. It can make any girl swoon and be at his feet.

"Are you really not free next week?" Lilia whined the moment she reached me, taking one of the three empty sweets at my table, Hoseok and Jimin taking the other two, "I was gonna invite you to go to a parade with us."

"Sorry," I mumbled out, feeling very aware of Hoseoks proximity as he sat next to me. The marks on my left arm acting up, and causing me to wince slightly in pain, "Hyunnie asked me after class to go out with him next week."

Sighing in defeat, Lilia sunk into her chair, as she absentmindedly reached for Jimins hand, and they interlocked fingers. It caused a tightness in my chest, as I bit down on my lips to stop the whimper of pain, as the marks felt like acid on my skin. I forced my eyes to tear away from their hands, and to look at my notebook that was infront of me.

"I swear, you and Baek are practically soulmates. Why don't you guys just get together and date already?"

I knew Lilia didn't mean to sound mean or judgmental. I knew she only had the best of intentions with her words, and just wanted me to be happy. She always just wanted me to be happy.

But with the massive headache I've been feeling all day, the immense pain on my left arm, and the tightness of my chest, I couldn't help but get irritated, "Wouldn't it be so simple if I could just choose my soulmate?" Like Lilia didn't mean to offend me, I didn't mean to be so harsh with my tone.

It took her by surprise, as she stared at me with wide eyes, and I felt Jimin and Hoseoks cautious eyes. There gaze was a warning, and it only caused to worsen my mood as I began to gather my stuff, "I'm sorry, let's hang out another time. Okay?" I forced another smile on my lips, and I already knew I couldn't really fake it this time, because after a few seconds I let it slip off.

I was so tired of smiling.

Lilia only nodded, as she stood up with me as well, "Is everything okay Sera? You know you can always talk to me, right?"

"Everything's fine, I'm just stressed with all my classes and trying to figure out where I'm going to medical school next year."

"Wait! You're not gonna go to medical school here?" Lilia suddenly asked. I realized what I said and cursed at myself mentally. She wasn't suppose to find out that I planned on leaving, "Say psyche right now!"

"We'll talk more later okay?" I mumbled, and before Lilia could ask any more questions or try to stop me, I already turned around and quickly walked away. My eyes were burning as my chest pounded painfully on my chest, as I heard Hoseoks sweet and gentle voice directed towards Lilia, to soothe her.

It only made the pain even worst.

*****

"I'm sure Sera was planning to tell us eventually," Kimie tried to reason out with Lilia, as she paced around in the cafe, a mix of anxiety and frustration running through her.

"Are we not her friends?" Lilia snapped back angrily, running a hand through her black hair as she continued back with her pacing, "She never tells us anything anymore or even wants to hang out with us! It's always Baekhyun she's with now, does she even consider us as friends?"

"Sera's known Baekhyun since middle school Lils. Plus you know she never liked talking about soulmates and stuff."

"Atleast her soulmate has a chance if being alive! My died years ago!" It just came out of her, without thinking as her emotions got the best of her. Hazel eyes apologetically met with similar gray ones, a silent apology passing between their gazes.

Kimie finally stood up, before not so gently, forcing Lilia to sit down in her original spot, and pushed a glass of iced water into her hands. Then she glanced to the three boys who sat at the opposite end of the table, Hoseok, Taehyung and Yoongi sat there.

Yoongi was smaller in stature compared to Taehyung and Hoseok, but it didn't make him any lesser. He had an over all softer features, with beautiful piercing gray eyes, soft white hair, and pouty lips. While he maybe shorter then the other two, he was still intimidating with his blank and bored look, but if you can get past that, you'll be faced with a gummy smile Yoongi.

"You need to calm down Lilia. Whatever choice Sera decided to make, we have to cheer her on," Kimie tried to sweeten her voice, but it just wasn't like her to be soft and gentle, and it came out more rough then intended.

Lilia took a sip of the water, before placing the glass down on the table, as she slumped against her chair, "It's just that...Sera's changed so much since high school, and we use to be so close. I just miss the old Sera, and I feel like I don't even know her anymore.

"She hasn't changed if you asked me," Kimie sighed, plopping down on the chair next to Lilia, "She's the same since high school, she just doesn't have a lot of time to hangout anymore, and stopped obsessing about her soulmate."

"And I think that's the problem."

*****

I was exhausted, all I wanted to do was go home and sleep, to just allow my sore body to rest, but I couldn't.

Leaning my head against the window of the bus, I shut my eyes momentarily, listening to the soothing beats that came from my earbuds. Trying to calm down my nerves, and distress a little, as today has been nothing but stressful, having to finishing my chem homework, studying for the test at the end of the week, and my mind wandering back to when I snapped at Lilia.

I never meant to do it, but everything has just become too much, and the sight of her holding hands with Jimin...it was just too much.

These past years have just been too much, and it's only getting harder. That was why I needed an escape, and next year was an important opportunity to do so. While I may be leaving so much behind, at least I'll be leaving behind the pain of it all.

The pain of watching my best friend be in love and in such a loving and pure relationship, with my soulmates.

When I felt the bus come to a stop, I forced my eyes opened, and got off along with a few passengers. As soon as I stepped out, I was met with the bustling city air.

My feet walked on instinct, I've been here so many times, that few of the vendors I passed by greeted me. Occasionally on my way back I would stop by and get some food, and would have a chat with some of the elders running the stalls. I always enjoyed listening to their stories and whatever wisdom they had to offer me,

It only took a few minutes to reach the large hospital, as it wasn't too busy with it only being Monday, and people weren't too crazy on Mondays. As I reached the reception desk, the same lady who always sat there, busy typing away at her computer, and when we made eye contact, she smiled widely at me.

"Miss. Han," the reception lady greeted, "you can head up, and I can get you checked in alright?"

I nodded and gave her a small thank you.

I've been here so many times that even the workers came familiarized with me. When the people at the hospital recognized you, and you don't even work there, that isn't really a good thing. That's why behind the ladies smile, was sympathy, because she already knew why I was here. I absolutely hated it.

Usually I avoid taking the elevator, it was only on the third floor. I usually sit down all day, and taking the stairs would usually be some way to be more active in my sedentary life, but I felt so weak. If I were to take the stairs, then I would most likely just fall down, and end up in a hospital bed for another reason then I intended.

So I took the elevator up, and luckily no one was on it, and it did not make a stop on the second floor, and I calmly walked off and headed towards the usual spot.

Soul Therapy

A small sign hung below the section I walked into, and sat on one of the chairs. Like usual on a non busy night like Monday, no one was here. It was only me, and luckily no one from college has ever seen me seated in this area. However, just for extra precaution, I put my hoodie up, and turned towards the wall while crossing my legs. I had put away my earbuds the moment I stepped in, so I can listen for my name.

I stared blankly at the beige white wall.

They told me that beige white was better then pure white, as it's more calming and less intense.

It never mattered to me.

Who knows how long before the sound of my name snapped me out of my dozing, as I quickly stood up, and looked at the smiling nurse in front of me, "Miss. Han, how are you feeling today?" She asked me as she lead me through the doors, and into a room I was all too familiar with.

"Like crap," I spoke bluntly. There was no use to beating around the bush, I just needed them to get me better so I can go home, and sleep. I've already told Kimie that I was going to come home late.

The nurse chuckled at my response, as she sat me down in one of those chairs you would find in the dentist, and instantly began to take my vitals, "A rough day Miss. Han?" It was all routine, she took my temperature, pulse ox, blood pressure and heart beat.

"It's always the same, but my left arm has been hurting all day, and my I have this massive head ache that won't go away."

Nodding, the nurse finished with my vitals, before asking me to remove my jacket, and that she was going to unwrap my arm. I did't verbally reply, but only obliged, and when she went and began to remove the bandages, I looked away. Something in me didn't want to see the marks that I have always had since I was born. To see the black patterns I have always fantasized during my younger years. Maybe I just didn't want to be reminded of something I could never have.

"The marks seem to be more grayish then black," the nurse noted out loud, as she prodded at my hands, "On a scale of 1 to 10, how badly is the pain right now."

"A seven," if it was any other nurse they would have thought I was over exaggerating, but everyone knew that I just hid the pain well. I have learned to hide the pain well.

"I'll call the doctor so you can start your treatment as soon as possible, okay?"

She left, but eventually she returned a few minutes later, followed by my usual doctor.

"Miss. Han," The doctor greeted me, an air of confidence around her, something I no longer had. Confidence.

I only nodded tiredly back, as she looked at my charts and soon to my arm, "You already know the cause of this, you are mentally aware of who your soulmates are, and yet you are not with them, and they are with someone who are not their soulmate."

How could I reply to that?

So I didn't and just stayed quite, causing the doctor to sigh.

She then ordered the nurse to prepare the treatment, as she grabbed one of those stool chairs with wheels on them, and sat in front of me. Her stern gaze made me squirm slightly in my chair, and I already knew what she was gonna say, "We're gonna use an I.V today for your treatment, and to help with your physical health we're gonna place an oxygen mask on you, your pulse ox is low. I'm gonna keep you here for tonight okay, so we're gonna move you to a room, your stats were all extremely low today, and I want to monitor you throughout the night."

I nodded blankly, any chance of me coming home was gone and I needed to find an excuse to tell Kimie.

"This treatment is only temporarily to fix your soulmate bond, and ultimately your soul. The only true cure for this is to be with your soulmates."

"You know that I can't doc."

"You can't or you won't?"

"I won't ever break the promise I made."

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bazypitchandsimonsnow · 6 years ago

Text

Into the Woods

Rating: T

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 6246

Summary: Simon is so done with his roommate's shit. Little does he know he's about to find out why Baz is being weird. Based on "Baz is a secret theatre nerd with glasses and a man bun” request.

Read on AO3

AN: I'm alive! And exhausted because work is a nightmare. Seriously, having a full time job sucks ass. But, WAYWARD SON!!!! I'M SO EXCITED!!!!! Excited and scared, but mostly excited. 2020 can't come soon enough holy shit. Anywho, hope you enjoy this little romp :D

——————————————-

Simon

“What the fuck happened to you?”

I glare at Penny as best as I can with my tired eyes. “What the fuck do you think?”

“He was pacing in your bathroom?”

I sink into the uncomfortable lecture hall bench with a sigh. “Yes, came back late then kept me up until midnight, muttering and humming to himself, again. What the fuck is he doing that requires so much talking and movement. And why does it have to be in the fucking bathroom?!”

Penny shrugs, something usually only I do. “I don’t know, Si.”

“I bet he’s summoning the Devil.”

“Simon, for the last time, he’s an arsehole, not an evil wizard.”

“You don’t have to live with him.”

Penelope sighs and keeps typing on her laptop. I assume my occasional lecture position of arms on desk and head pillowed on arms. One advantage of uni is that professors don’t give a single shit if you sleep through their classes. I know I’m probably wasting my education, but I need sleep. Because of fucking Baz.

“Good morning, Snow.” Ugh, I hate his smooth, perfect voice. I grunt in reply. “Still not a fan of speaking, hm?”

“Fuck off, Baz,” I grumble, “it’s your fault I’m like this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says, completely calm as usual.

I growl, because I hate words enough when I’m awake. And I refuse to use them with him.

He doesn’t answer, the bastard, just walks off. I watch from just over my arm as he sits a few rows in front. He’s easy to spot, what with the tight green t-shirt and stupid man bun. Well, it’s not totally stupid on him. Somehow everything looks good on him. He could wear a garbage bag and still look great. Stupid good looking arsehole.

I doze on and off through the whole psych lecture. It’s not that interesting anyway. And when I wake up, Baz is right in my line of vision, and I keep looking at him. How he re-adjusts his hair every once in awhile. How he spins a pencil between his long fingers. How he lifts his glasses up and down as he looks at the screen then takes notes. Why does he have to be such a good upstanding student and make the rest of us look bad? It’s so bloody infuriating.

I breathe a sigh of relief when the lecture is over. I’m done classes, but Baz has another lecture. I can go back to my room and get a good rest.

“Hey, Si,” Penelope says as I’m gathering my things. “Still wanna study for that English exam together?”

Shit, I promised her we’d study yesterday. Guess my nap will have to wait. “Yeah sure, Pen. Not sure how much help I’ll be. I’m not exactly good at English.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll whip you into shape.” She grabs my arm, and I willingly go.

“Yeah, sure, that’s possible,” I chuckle. We head out the door, but I sneak a look behind me. Baz is talking to a group of people. Huh, that’s weird. Baz and I have been roommates for over a year, and I’ve only ever seen him hang with the same two guys, a freckled redhead and his cousin (I think.) Those two are both standing there now, but for some reason there are a bunch of other people standing around too. Who have big smiles and even bigger gestures. Does Baz have friends now? Huh, he has been out more often. Guess they don’t mind that he’s an annoyingly smart arsehole, or that he looks better than all of them.

“C’mon, Si!”

Penny tugs harder, and I rip my gaze away from Baz. I’ll think about him later.

———————————————-

The only good thing about the student centre is that the chairs are comfy. I’m pretty sure the university invested all their furniture budget into cushy armchairs. I’m certainly not complaining. Especially today, when I could sink into the comfy leather forever.

“And what were the main themes of Fahrenheit 451?” Penny asks.

“Uhhh...” I don’t open my eyes. They feel too heavy. “Books are better than people?”

“I would personally yes, but our prof would disagree. Try again.”

“Blargh.”

“Blargh?” she chuckles. “Simon, are you making up words again?”

“Yes,” I grunt, “because I’m frustrated and tired and probably going to fail all my exams.”

Penny sighs, long and heavy. “You’re not going to fail.”

“You say that because you’re trying to make me feel better because you love me,” I spit out before thinking. I’m tired and have less of a filter than usual.

She scoffs, but in an endearing way. I’m not sure how she does that. “Yes, I love you, Simon, which means I’d never lie to you. You. Are. Not. Going. To. Fail.”

I sigh, because I know she’s right. Penny actually, really believes in me. I’m glad to have her in my life. “Thanks, Pen.”

“You’re welcome. Now, just tell me one theme, please?”

I tilt my head back over the chair, closing my eyes as I try to remember what our monotone prof said. “Uh, censorship?”

“Yes! See? I told you you’d get it.”

“Thank you, Penny,” I murmur, then curl into the armchair. “Now I’m going to sleep for a thousand years.”

Penny sighs exasperatedly, but it’s still loving. “Very well. Want a mint aero bar from the vending machine?”

“Mm, yes please.” I rummage around for my wallet in my back pocket, and pull out (what I hope is) a five pound note. Penny snatches it. I hope she gives me the change.

As I’m sinking into the comfy chair, finally relaxing after hours of discomfort, something gets dropped on my head. I frown and pick up the chocolate bar. I hear Penny sit in the opposite chair.

“Hey,” she says through a mouthful of candy, “look at this.”

“Don’t wanna,” I grumble.

“Simon, open your bloody eyes.”

“Ugh, fine.” I blink my eyes open. Penny is holding a big poster. It’s covered in trees and says "Into the Woods" in fancy letters. Then it lists the school theatre and dates next week. Wait... “Pen, did you steal that off the student events board?!”

“Not important. But look! This is an awesome musical, and the drama club is doing it soon. Maybe we could go see it.”

I twist my lips together. “Hm, I don’t know...”

“C’mon, Si, we’ve both been stressed out. We need to do something fun.”

“And musical theatre performed by probably off key uni students is fun?”

She gives me a deadpan look. “Do we have enough money to do anything better?”

I let out a long sigh. “No, we don’t.”

“Exactly. Now, wanna go see some shitty musical theatre?”

I twist my lips again, fiddling with my chocolate wrapper. “I’ll think about it, Pen. I need to study more if I’m going to pass psych.”

Penelope nods in acknowledgement. “Okay, I get it. The show is next week so we’ve still got time. Now,” she flips her binder open again, “tell me the role of Clarisse in regards to Guy’s character development.”

“Ugh,” I groan, “gimme a minute.”

I put Into the Woods in the back of my mind, and once again try to remember what the fuck our professor said. It’s an annoyingly difficult task.

———————————————-

When I get back to my dorm, Baz isn’t there, again. Man, he’s really been out a lot lately. More than before.

Last year, when he wasn’t in class, he was always in the room. Either reading on his bed or working at his desk. I tried to avoid him as much as possible, because everytime I disturbed him he would glare or make some passive aggressive sarcastic comment. It became clear he didn’t like my presence. So I learned to stay out of his way, but I guess that hasn’t really been a problem lately. And...it’s weird. It’s weird him not being here.

I take a long shower, revelling in the fact that Baz won’t bang on the door and demand I not use all the hot water. After, I curl up in bed, Netflix blaring in my headphones. It’s what I need to wind down after studying. Eventually, I let myself drift off to the sounds of Brooklyn 99.

But I’m woken up again when the door swings open. I grunt but don’t open my eyes. I just listen as Baz softly shuts it, pads around the room, then enters the bathroom. Ugh, fucking hell. He’s pacing and muttering and humming again, and even though he’s quiet, it’s annoying as fuck. I turn up my volume but it’s no use. Just knowing he’s there keeps me up. His presence just overwhelms my brain all the time.

When his footsteps get louder, I know he’s back in the main room. I pull off my headphones and glare at his back.

“Can you not?” I growl.

Baz freezes, head snapping up and shoulders tensing. Guess he thought I was asleep. “Can you be more specific?”

“It’s fucking great that you’re out having fun with your friends, but your late night entrances and obsessive pacing is keeping me up. Some of us aren’t vampires and can’t stay up all night.”

“Sorry my schedule is inconvenient for you, Snow.” His voice is so neutral I can’t tell if he’s mocking me or not.

"Oh fuck off, you prick."

"Incredibly creative insults there."

Ugh, he's so quick tongued. I can't fight him usually, and certainly not when I'm so tired. I opt for grunting and rolling over. Baz quickly goes back into the bathroom to change. (Prudish prick won’t change in front of me.) God, I’m so exhausted. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too. Maybe I do need a break. Something fun...

I grab my phone from where it’s sitting on the floor and send a quick text.

Simon: heyyyy y’know i think i’m down for the musical i do need a break

Penny’s reply is instantaneous. (She was probably browsing Tumblr late at night again.)

Penny: Awesome! I’ll get us tickets for the last show on Friday.

Simon: sweet :) gonna go to bed night pen

Penny: Night, Si.

I power down the phone and restart Netflix again. Baz is already in bed, his black hair fanned out against the white pillowcase. Yeah, I need a distraction. Anything to keep me from thinking about school and exhaustion. As well as the stupid, annoyingly pretty guy sleeping no more than three metres away from me.

———————————————-

“What took you so long?!”

I ran up to Penny panting, completely doubled over. Christ, my lungs are fucking burning. “Sorry...couldn’t find...phone...bus...was late...so so sorry.”

“It’s fine, Si, let’s just get in there. Curtain is in three minutes.”

She takes my sleeve and drags me inside. She’s stomping, so I know she’s really pissed. I move to hold her hand tightly, squeezing it. “I’m really sorry, Pen.”

Penny keeps stomping, but sighs and squeezes back. “I know. Let’s just get in there.”

I let out a small sigh, because I know we’re still okay.

We rush into the theatre, jittering at the ticket booth and snatching up programs as we run past the poor student volunteer. Penny quickly finds us two seats in a not that shitty place. Surprisingly, the theatre is quite packed. Huh. I wouldn’t expect this many people for a student production.

“We made it,” Penny sighs.

“Yeah,” I reply. “So much for stress free evening.”

She chuckles, almost sardonically. “Yeah, unfortunately agreed. Now shush, curtain’s coming up.”

The whole theatre gets dark, and orchestra music swells. I lean back in my chair. The curtain rises to reveal (what I think at least) is a minimal set with people on it. A few tree silhouettes in the back, a raised platform, a fake fireplace, fake counter, and a fake cow next to a stool. Everything is just so fake. Penny said I had to “suspend my disbelief”. It’s hard to pretend with such little there. This is why I like TV and movies.

All the people on stage are wearing sort of fairy tale clothes. They start singing about what they wish for. To go to a party, for a cow to have milk, and to have a baby. Christ, is this whole thing just about people wanting things? Musicals are fucking weird.

I sort of half zone out, picking up on bits and pieces of the show and dozing off. Baz has been coming back later and later all week and waking me up each time he opens the door. The theatre is dark, so it’s hard to stay awake. I fall asleep at the scene with Rapunzel and the witch, but start to stir again when Jack’s mom throws the magic beans on the ground (ha, idiot.) But since this play jumps around more than a rabbit on a sugar rush, suddenly the Baker’s Wife is walking around in the woods with the cow as Cinderella runs past. She’s running from the ball again and hides behind the Wife. A trumpet goes off as someone gallops ridiculously on stage-

Wait, is that...

“Baz!?”

Three people shush me, but I ignore them, because Baz fucking Pitch is on stage right now, hamming it up with everyone else. He’s wearing a silly outfit that reminds me of a Disney prince, with a white jacket and a red sashs and gloves. His hair is slicked back with gel, emphasizing his stark widow’s peak more than usual. He’s not wearing his glasses either. Huh. I’ve never seen him without them. He looks...good. Well, he looks good with them too, but this is just a different sort of good.

I don’t pay attention to the scene, not even listening to what they’re saying. I’m just focusing on Baz and his amazingly ridiculous appearance. Oh my god he looks so stupid, trotting his feet and flicking his hands like he’s holding reins. When he’s offstage I lean over to Penny, who’s jaw is also on the ground.

“What the hell is Baz doing here?!” I whisper.

“I...have no idea,” she replies very hushed. It’s the first time I’ve heard her admit she doesn’t know something.

The play continues, but I’m paying attention even less. I just keep waiting for Baz to show up again. I’m so jittery. My leg is shaking at lightspeed. Penny kicks my foot in an attempt to stop me but it doesn’t help. The only thing that makes it stop is seeing Baz gallop ridiculously on stage, along with Rapunzel’s Prince.

“Ah, there you are, good brother. Father and I had wondered where you had gone,” he says to Baz.

“I have been looking all night for her,” Baz replies. His voice is like it always is, smooth and commanding. Like he was born to tell people what to do. Usually I find it annoying, but right now it works. He is supposed to be a prince.

The two princes commiserate over their mutual impossible loves. They're both idiots.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel! What kind of name is that? You jest! I have never heard of such a thing,” Baz laughs out.

Rapunzel’s Prince snorts. “I speak the truth. She is as true as your maiden. A maiden running from a prince? None would run from us.”

“Yet,” Baz sighs, “she has.”

Then he starts singing, and my brain short circuits.

Holy shit. Baz is singing. And he’s singing well. His voice is a solid, smooth baritone. It reverberates through the theatre perfectly. I’m totally transfixed. Since when could Baz sing so incredibly?!

“Agony!” He belts. “Beyond power of speech. When the one thing you want, is the only thing out of your reach.”

Holy. Shit.

I don’t realise how much I’m gaping until Penny pushes up my hanging lower jaw back up. The whole song is quite ridiculous, and Baz sings it perfectly. He looks properly agonized through it. I didn’t know he could be so expressive. He’s, just, amazing.

The songs ends, and Baz exits. I don’t pay attention, what with my mind still spinning. So, Baz, my arsehole geeky roommate, can act, and sing, and looks weirdly amazing in a stupid prince costume. Okay, that’s a lot of new info to process.

Before I know it, the lights come back on, and Penny is tugging on my sleeve.

“Simon?”

I look up at her bewildered. “What?”

“C’mon, get up, I want to stretch my legs, and we can get some snacks. I bet you’re hungry.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, that’d be great.”

I follow behind her with my hands in my hoodie pockets. While Penny goes to the snack bar, I sit on a bench. Something stabs me in my pocket. I pull out the crumpled program. Wait, Penny mentioned this week the actors have bios in the program. I furiously flip through it.

I find Baz’s picture almost immediately. It’s black and white and a bit blurry but I can still make out his face. He looks normal in it. Tight shirt, glasses falling down his nose, hair tied up. But here, he's smiling slightly. Wow, I’ve never seen him look anything other than bored or annoyed. It’s weird, but also nice. I look down at the bio.

Baz Grimm-Pitch - Cinderella’s Prince A witty English literature major with a salt and vinegar crisp addiction plays Cinderella’s arrogant love. In his spare time, Baz plays the violin, studies the development of the English language, and competes in a recreational football league. “Into the Woods” is his first dramatic production.

I chuckle under my breath. Baz really is such a nerd. Even though I already know most of this, it’s kinda...cute? I’m not sure if that’s the right word but it feels right. The little blurb is just makes him sound so adorable. I can almost forget he’s an arsehole.

“Si, you want a cookie?”

I snap my head up to glare at a smirking Penny. She waves the chocolate chip cookie tauntingly. I snatch it from her hand, making sure to glare at her while I take a huge bite. She sits down next to me and looks over at the program.

“Huh,” she says, “at least they got a good photo of Basilton.”

“Yeah,” I reply quietly. “Still can’t believe he’s in this.”

“Me neither. I thought he was just a quiet academic like me.”

“Same, but...he’s actually really good.”

“I hate to give him a victory, but yeah, he is. He’ll probably be good in the second act too.”

I whip my head around to her, eyes wide. “Second act?! I thought the story was wrapped up!”

Penny shakes her head, swishing her curls. “Nope. There’s another part. It’s just as long.”

I look at my phone clock. “We’ve already been here for an hour and a half!”

She takes a bite of her cookie and smiles around the mouthful. “Yup. Welcome to musical theatre, Si.”

I groan and slump forward. The program is still in my hand, and still on Baz’s picture. Well...if Baz has got more songs, maybe I won’t mind staying.

———————————————-

So the second act, from what I can tell, pretty much destroys all the happy endings of the first act. Wow, okay, that’s not depressing at all. Everybody either gets squished by a giant or just generally fucks up. What a pleasant play.

Baz comes back on a few times. First, he and the other prince sing another version of the previous song. It’s the same tune and the same idea, but they’re singing about different impossible women. I chuckle. So Baz’s character is a total bastard. Kind of makes him seem like less of an arsehole by comparison.

Later, as everything in the story continues to fall apart, Baz runs into the Baker’s Wife. After one short conservation, the lights go pink, and the music gets slow. Baz starts approaching her with a smirk.

“Anything can happen in the woods,” he sings. “May I kiss you?”

My eyes pop out. Well, that’s forward. Far more forward than Baz probably really is. I know it’s just the play, but Baz looks so strong and handsome, that I believe him. And, is it wrong that I sort of wish it was real? That Baz would actually be that well, sexy? God, did I just call Baz sexy?!

Baz does kiss her, and it’s so intense that I blush. The Wife walks away from him, but he grabs her again and twirls her into his arms. Together, they glide across the wooden stage, occasionally kissing more. He spins her in and out, leading her around, all while singing a sleezy but beautiful song to seduce her.

“Foolishness can happen in the woods,” he croons. “Once again, please...let your hesitations be hushed. Any moment, big or small, is a moment after all. Seize the moment, skies may fall any moment.”

They kiss again, and I can’t believe how passionate it is. How passionate Baz is. It’s strange and wonderful to watch. All too soon, the Wife is pulling away and the kiss ends. But my brain is still swirling while Baz sings again.

“Right and wrong don't matter in the woods, only feelings. Let us meet the moment unblushed. Life is often so unpleasant. You must know that, as a peasant. Best to take a moment present. As a present, for the moment.”

With Baz’s last line, they walk off stage. I’m still blushing, and very confused by my own feelings.

Soon enough, the play ends. Baz’s character leaves Cinderella and marries Sleeping Beauty. (Wow, what a bastard.) But after all that misery, everyone atill alive is alright, I guess. The actors line up and bow. Everyone starts applauding. Oh shit. I quickly join. All the cast members smile brightly as they bow. And when Baz steps up, he’s no exception. Christ, he actually looks amazing when he smiles. It fits his face far better than a scowl or a thin flat line.

I’ve been learning a lot of new things about Baz tonight.

The cast leaves and the curtain falls. Lights turn back on. People start shuffling out. I’m still a bit dumbfounded to move though. I just saw Baz in a musical, where he sang and danced and kissed perfectly. He was fucking incredible. And I should let him know.

As we’re walking out the door, I turn to one of the ticket takers. “Hey, where are the actors coming out?”

“They should be in the alley to the left soon.”

“Awesome, thanks.”

On the sidewalk, I tug on Penny’s hand. “You can head home, Pen. I’m gonna stick around for a bit.”

Penny gives me a curious look, but just shrugs. “Alright then. See you, Si.”

“See you.”

She saunters off with a spring in her step. I watch her, wondering if I should run after and not do this. But I stay still. Fuck, what am I doing?

The actors trickle out one by one. I notice Baz’s friend and his cousin, but they run off before I can ask them where Baz is. The crowd thins until I’m the only one left, standing there like an idiot. Maybe I missed him. Maybe I should just go-

“Blasted dead mobile,” a familiar voice grumbles.

My head snaps up just in time to see Baz stop in his tracks. He looks like a deer in the headlights, grey eyes wide behind his spectacles. He’s back to his usual style of t-shirt and glasses and manbun. Back to the Baz I know. His mouth hangs open in complete and utter shock.

“Hey,” I say as casually as possible.

“Snow,” he replies shakily, a slight redness appearing on his cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

"I, just saw the show. The one you were in. Obviously. And I just wanted to find you and say you're uh, you were really good."

He visibly gulps, fiddling with his knapsack strap. “Thank you. I...didn’t realise you were a musical theatre fan.”

I chuckle and rub the back of my neck. “I’m not, not really. Penny convinced me to come. I didn’t expect to see you here either. Especially on stage. How the Hell did that happen?”

Baz sighs with both exasperation and what seems like a little happiness, maybe. “Well, if you must know, my cousin was the one who originally decided to audition and I helped him with his lines. I said he was shite, and he bet me I couldn’t audition better. I’m very competitive, so I made a real effort to do well. Then I got in. I was going to turn it down, but Dev convinced me to try. It’s been, weirdly fun. I like performing. And I made new friends. Turns out there’s more to life than studying.”

“Huh,” I chuckle, “that’s pretty neat. So all that pacing and humming in the washroom was you rehearsing your lines?”

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t want you to know because it felt embarrassing. Sorry about that.”

I blink rapidly. Holy shit, I’m legitimately in shock. Baz Pitch just apologized to me. Wow. Tonight has been bizzare. “I-It’s okay. I get it now. Honestly, I just thought you were keeping me up on purpose because you hate me.” I try to laugh that last part off with a nervous chuckle.

Baz looks at the ground, shuffling his feet. I’ve seen Baz cold before, detached and pulled in and what not. But this is different. He looks...nervous. When he speaks, his words are shaky and quiet. “I don’t, you know. Hate you. I never have.”

My world tilts sideways. I nearly stumble backwards from the shock of his words. I look for any sign of deceit and find none. All I see is the anxious sort-of-teenager confessing something apparently really hard to say.

“Oh,” I stutter out. “You...you don’t?”

“No,” he says. “I just, I make arsehole comments when I’m nervous. Especially to those who...make me nervous.”

Huh? What the hell does he mean? “I, make you nervous?”

“Yes. You have almost since we met.”

I’m still confused. I take a moment to study Baz. His pulled in body language, his knapsack fiddling, his downcast eyes, his increasingly obvious blush-

Oh. Oh.

“Oh,” I squeak. Baz sighs in an annoyed way. That probably wasn’t the response he wanted.

“Yeah,“ he grumbles. “Oh.”

Crap I don’t know what to say. I end up blurting out the first thing that comes to my dumb head. “So is that stereotype about guys in theatre being gay true?”

Baz head lifts up to better glare at me. His eyes are like stormy grey daggers. “No, obviously not. It’s a stereotype for a reason.”

Shit shit, I’m so bad at this. I run a hand through my tangled hair. “Right, right, sorry. I make dumb comments when I’m nervous.” I sigh and look right at him, eyes fixed despite my fear. “I guess what I’m trying to ask to in my stupid way is, are you gay? Just, want to make sure I'm not misinterpreting. I do that a lot.”

Baz’s face softens. No more steely glare, just neutral, save for his slightly pulled in lips. “Yes,” he says like he has to force the words out. “Yes, I am.” He gulps, fiddling with his strap like mad. “Are you?”

I shrug, because truthfully the only honest gesture. “Sorta, I guess. At least part of me must be, considering how much I like looking at you.”

He inhales sharply, and the blush starts creeping down his long neck. “Oh. That’s...not something I was aware of.”

“Honestly?” I chuckle, pulling at my hair again. “Me neither. I mean, I’m always looking at you, but I never thought about why too much. It wasn’t until the show that I realised how much I like to stare at you. Um, sorry if that’s creepy.”

“No,” he replies very quickly. “no, it’s uh, it’s actually fine.”

He’s blushing very hard. Shit, am I blushing too? It certainly feels like it. “Oh. Okay.”

We look at each other in silence for a long moment. I’m not sure what to say, and obviously neither does he. We’re just two idiots standing on a driveway. I feel my stomach rumble. Oh man, I’m a hungry idiot.

“So,” I say, rocking on my heels, “do you have anywhere to be?”

Baz shakes his head. “No, not really. I’m supposed to go to the wrap party but fuck that. I was just going to go home to the dorm.”

“Well, in that case, uh, you wanna go get something to eat? There’s a 24 hour diner near our dorm building.”

He looks at me curiously, studying me like a specimen. “Are you asking me as your roommate, a fan of my performance, or...something else?”

I chew my bottom lip. Cautiously, I step forward and and brush my fingers on the back of his hand. He doesn’t pull away, so I hold it loosely. “Something else, preferably.”

Baz looks at me with wide, open eyes, filled to the brim with worry. “Snow, you do remember that we're roommates, right? If whatever, this is doesn't work out, we're still going to have to live with each other for months. That would not be pleasant. And hell, Snow, you barely know me, really. Is this really worth the risk?”

My grip on his hand tightens. He still doesn’t pull away. “Y-Yeah, of course I know this could all blow up in our faces. But, Baz, I really want to try. Like, you currently occupy like 90% of my thoughts. And sure most of them were negative, because I thought were a prick.” He frowns at that. It’s actually adorable. “But now, I’d really like to find out what you’re like when you’re not a prick. So I think it’s worth the risk.” I take a deep breath, making sure to look at Baz right in the eye. “Do you?”

I can see the gears turning in his big head. I’ve seen it a hundred times in class when we have to solve a problem. It’s even more fascinating up close. How his lips shift, his eyes darting back in forth. He doesn’t let go of my hand the whole time though. I catch the moment his face relaxes though, when he makes his decision.

“Yes,” he says quietly, “I think it’s worth the risk too.”

We both grin at the same time. Fuck I never knew before tonight that seeing his smile could make me so happy. I think I want to see it a lot more.

“Well, c’mon then.” I tug on his arm, and we start walking. “I’m hungry.”

“When are you not hungry, Snow?”

I scoff. “I thought you were only a prick when you were nervous.”

“I’m about to go on a date with my roommate who I’ve been hopelessly pining after for over a year. So excuse me, but I’m very nervous.”

Wow, my whole face must look like a tomato right now. Looking over, I see that Baz is in the exact same state. Either this is going to be incredible or a complete disaster. I’m seriously hoping for the first one.

“Don’t be,” I say as kindly as I can, “it’s just a date. We’ll see how this goes and go with it, alright?”

Half his mouth pulls up in a lazy smile. I like him relaxed like this. “Okay. I can live with that.”

I grin. I can’t stop grinning tonight. “Awesome. Now, important first date question.” He looks at me curiously and somewhat afraid. “Where the hell did you learn to sing so well?”

Baz lets out a breathy laugh. “Playing the violin all your life gives you surprisingly good pitch. It only took a few sessions with the pianist to get the songs okay. Not that they were easy. Apparently Sondheim is never easy.”

“That’s amazing.” He examines me for any sign of mocking, but he won’t find anything. I genuinely thinks it’s really cool.

“Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it.”

“Could I get a repeat performance?”

“No.” I pout as much as I can, bottom lip pushed very far out. Baz stays strong for a few more seconds, then sighs. “Maybe some other time.”

I smile again. “Awesome. Next question, what was it like getting into those tight prince pants?”

“I am not dignifying that question with an answer.”

“Oh c’mon! I’m just wondering.”

“And wondering you shall stay.”

I make a “pbblt” sound with my lips. “Fine, spoilsport. How about you tell me what the production was like? Penny says plays are all drama behind the scene too.”

“Fucking hell it was a nightmare! Dev, Niall, the Witch, and Cinderella were great, but generally actors are self absorbed idiots. First day, Rapunzel came in hungover and spilled her entire coffee on my shirt. Baker's wife was the the world's worst diva. And don’t get me started on the Wolf. He tried to bang every girl in the cast, and a couple of the guys too.”

He goes on like that as we walk down the dimly lit street hand in hand. I interject a bit of commentary here and there, but I just let him talk. He’s fun to listen to. I like his sarcastic, sharp humour. Especially when it’s not directed at me.

I think I like him. A lot.

———————————————-

“No no, I’m serious!” I say far too loud, considering the time and that we’re walking down the hall of our dorm building. “Jamie is gonna kill Cersei. It’s inevitable.”

“He’s already left King’s Landing though,” Baz replies cooly.

“Yeah, but he can come back.”

“I suppose. But I think he’s going to be too busy with the White Walkers to deal with his crazy twin sister.”

“Good point. Maybe it’ll be the finale, when Dany finally storms King’s Landing.”

“Ugh, she needs to do that already. It’s been eight seasons!”

“They’re keeping us in suspense.”

I groan and lean back against the dorm room door. “I know. It’s fucking torture.” I sigh looking at the brown piece of wood. It feels so massive right now. “So, we’re here.”

“I noticed.” Baz stands in front of me, with only a few feet between us.

“First date protocol says I’m supposed to walk you to the door. But we’ve got the same door, so...”

“Yes, I’m not quite sure what to do either.”

We stare at each other. I study his face, like I have been doing all night. I spent most of our meal staring at him as he talked. I can finally admit to myself that I like to do that, and now I can also say I like his laugh, his smile, and the way he talks about his passions. I just keep seeing him in a new light. Everything feels different and new and scary. I love it.

“So,” I say quietly, “did you have fun?”

Baz smiles softly. “Yes, I did.”

“Would you, be persuaded to do this again?

“Is that your way of asking me out for a second date, Snow?”

I shrug up to my pink tinged ears. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Then yes. I would like to do this again.”

I nod rapidly, far too nervous for my own good. “Okay, cool, awesome, sounds good. Do we...just go to bed now?”

Baz shrugs slightly. “I suppose so.”

We immediately go back to staring. But my gaze drifts downwards, to his thin lips that are currently pressed together. I still remember that stage kiss. I know that was all fake, but I wonder what the real thing would be like that. I wonder if that passion translate to real life. To me.

“Simon...” Baz whispers. He’s somehow gotten closer. And my breath hitches, because he’s looking at my mouth too.

Fuck it.

I grab the front of his shirt and kiss him hard.

Baz gasps against my mouth, but very quickly sinks into it. His lips slide with mine perfectly. He presses one hand to my neck and buries the other in my hair. I groan and slide mine across his back. Christ, he’s so fucking fit. I want to tear his shirt off and feel all these muscles directly on my finger.

“Kissing on the first date, Snow?” Baz whispers playfully in one of the few moments we aren’t liplocked. “Scandalous.”

“Oh, fuck you,” I grumble, holding his hips tighter.

After a few more kisses, he pulls away with a small grin. My knees buckle at the devilish glint in his grey eyes. He looks just as sexy as he did on stage. “Well,” he drawls, “if you insist.”

For the second time tonight, my brain completely short circuits.

This is so new and scary, yet, I’m so fucking excited. I suppose it’s going to be an adventure. Into the unknown. Into the woods, I suppose.

I kiss him again, clenching my fist in his hair so hard his man bun falls apart, curtaining our faces in black strands. He pushes a hand under my shirt to feel up my stomach. I fumble with the keycard and get the blasted door open, then pull Baz in by the back of his neck. The door closes, and the rest of the night is a blissful whirlwind.

Hooray for musical theatre.

———————————————- AN: "Blargh" is copyright Theo the Fanfic Writer and anyone who steals it will be sued. /s ;)

So yeah, musicals! "Into the Woods" is my favourite musical of all time and I think Baz would be a perfect Cinderella's Prince. Also I've always thought Baz would be an incredible singer. Simon would be floored lol. Sorry if this is a little rough tbh. Hard to describe someone watching a musical haha. I struggled writing it but, I had fun in the end. I love writing Simon the Oblivious Pining Idiot. Requests are still open and I will get to them between being dead from work. Hope you enjoyed this :)

#carry on #snowbaz #simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #musical #fluff #into the woods #making out #mysnowbazfic #long post

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