#this housemate is actually one of the all-time best shared living experiences I have ever had
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Humaning is hard, or how I realized I had been avoiding masking fatigue by maintaining a modern hermit lifestyle
For the majority of the last 20-ish years I have lived alone. Having sufficient income to afford this has been my greatest life luck, and was something I always dreamed of when I was a teenager.
This post started off in my mind very differently. I guess this will be a draft for now, so I can organize my thoughts around my feelings. I have these great moments of clarity that are so quickly lost to the fog of refinement that I can't just turn around and go back to where I came from.
But this was supposed to be about communicating with the first housemate I have had in 13+ish years, and how I hate feeling like I need to mask in the home I own to accommodate her and avoid pointless arguments that should never occur in the first place.
Anyway, what it all really boils down to right now is that I am thinking of telling her that I feel like there are times when I am responding with examples of similar issues experienced because I am attempting to demonstrate my sympathy through similar experience, but she responds as if I am the village idiot because my similar story is not a 1 for 1 match, and maybe we would have less potential for prickly feelings if she would preface her stories with "I just want to vent" so I can know in advance and respond accordingly.
Note: I also hate having to think about this and figure out an action to take because these instances make me feel really icky, and doesn't actually feel like a solution that just isn't a glorified "heads up need you to mask on demand because I don't like this trait you have."
#adhd#neurospicy thoughts#this housemate is actually one of the all-time best shared living experiences I have ever had#like it is over-all massively great#I think the dichotomy of the intermittent fights to the actual good shared house experience after truly awful ones makes fights ickier
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Hopelessly Romantic
summary - You used to say that a little romanticising never hurt anyone, turns out you were wrong. So wrong. (Unless...?)
pairing - Hoseok x reader
genre - university!au, fluff, a little angst, crushing & pining <3
word count - 7.4k
warnings - swearing :o, y/n goes through serious introspection, y/n goes through it
You always loved romance and love. You loved when your friend finally revealed his feelings to his crush after endless (and progressively annoying) pining for each other. You love when you see your regulars have their weekly Sunday date night at the restaurant you work at (you also love their tips). You love when couples share an umbrella when walking in the rain. Heck, you even love the socks with the tiny magnetic arms that when you stand next to someone with the same socks they hold hands! Like! Who cares if they are just inanimate socks? (They are holding hands!) You just love love!
Okay, so your friends/housemates might make fun of you for it. They might roll their eyes when you fawn over some minor interaction between two strangers in the street or when you dote on something slightly romantic that your professor said about his wife. Some of your friends may say you are overoptimistic. Or as Yoongi would call it: unrealistic.
But, you would argue that a little romanticising never hurt anyone! Can it be annoying sometimes? Yes! Do your friends have to mentally prepare themselves before confiding in you about anything to do with their romantic life? 100%! Can your romanticisation border on delusional? I mean, maybe sometimes? Or as Yoongi would say: all the time.
It's a little running joke in your friendship group that little Y/n is a little hopeless romantic who would even romanticise two street rats eating rotting food in a dumpster together (but also that is kind of cute, like they live in awful conditions but they still stay together?!).
So maybe that's why you keep your crush on a certain man in your class a secret. Or as you would say (then giggle and hide your face into your pillow), your secret.
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You would admit that the sole reason that gets you out of bed for your Monday 9am lecture is the fact you can spend an hour glancing at the most perfect side profile to ever bless planet earth (oh, and sometimes the cute stories your professor reveals about his wife).
After 5 months of this class, you have perfected the routine to get the most out of this one hour experience. First, you (struggle to) get up at 7am. Then, do all your business and get clean. Then, you agonisingly choose your best outfit that is both (a) comfortable for an annoyingly early lecture and (b) also cute so that when he looks over to you, he thinks woah this hot babe knocks it out the park every time with their insanely cool yet effortless look like woah I need to propose or whatever. Then, you (maybe too excitedly) stroll to your lecture and get there with (and this is very important) exactly 4 minutes before the lecture begins. This is because exactly 5 minutes before the lecture begins, a certain someone (cue you giggling and hiding your face) finds a seat in the lecture hall. And that means you can choose the optimal seating position to be able to have sneaky glances at the most beautiful face you have ever laid your eyes upon (in a not creepy way). The said optimal seating position is around 1 or 2 rows behind and a good ten seats on either side of him. Both effective and not suspicious at all.
If they knew, your friends would call you crazy. Or as Yoongi would say: this would actually be great evidentiary support for a restraining order. But you swear if they have ever seen this man, they would be doing the exact same thing. You would also argue that you are not the only one who does this! Two weeks ago you noticed that a girl, who sat 5 rows in front of you (so 3 rows in front of him), spent most of the lecture staring at the man and it was very obvious. Clearly, someone needs to get an optimal seating position! And just a month ago, after the man answered one of the professor's questions, a group of people let out a very audible tee-hee at how unbelievably attractive his face was.
And, my God, what a face.
It's otherworldly and beautiful. And that side profile? His perfect nose? His heart-shaped lips? His amazing jawline? His somehow always sparkly eyes? And his kissable cheekbones that protrude a bit more when he bursts out into the most bright and breath-taking smile? Stunning.
It's even more stunning when it's directed at you. Tee-hee.
Plot twist! You aren't one to brag (you are going to fully brag). But there have been a few instances where your glances are requited.
Now it's time to replay them in excruciating detail!
The first time it happened, you were mid-sentence in typing some notes on the lecture slides when you habitually glanced over to Mr. Beautiful man. But when you look up, you find yourself already caught in the depths of his gaze. You nearly choked on the air at the realisation that this man was looking at you with his sparkling eyes that seemed to hold a playful glint within them and a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips. For a heartbeat, time seemed to still as you held his gaze, and in that fleeting moment, you swear you felt a connection, a spark that made you bashfully look back to the lecture slides.
Another time this happened was when your professor was talking about the story of how he wooed his wife (every time he saw her, he pretended to trip over something so she would always remember him). You couldn't help but to accidentally let out a laugh louder than the rest of the class. But before you could cringe at yourself for the way your chuckle echoed around the room, you found yourself locking eyes with him, whose smile widened as your eyes met. You felt a warmth spread through you, as if his smile was meant for only you, and you couldn't help but smile back as he turned his head back around to the professor.
Not only that, but (not bragging at all) you have spoken to him a good two times.
Plot twist again!
He actually definitely knows who you are!
It's time to recount these events in even more excruciating detail!
1.
The first time he spoke to you was in the second week of the semester and it was also the first time you ever noticed him. As everyone stood up to pack their bags, you noticed that the person in front of you had left his water bottle behind on his desk. Noting the back of the man already half-way down the stairs, you grab the metal bottle and try to dash out of the lecture hall, scanning the corridor for any sign of him. Finally spotting him nearly walking out of the building, you hurried to catch up to him. As he opened the door, you shouted an 'excuse me' to the man.
As if it was in slow motion, he turned around and you don't know if you were hallucinating, but you swear you were nearly swept off your feet (it may have been the strong wind that the opening door let in). That was the first time you were graced with the most beautiful face you have ever seen, as he looked at you surprised and confused with his soft-looking hair flowing with the breeze.
You stutter at the sight of him, briefly forgetting why you even chased after him in the first place.
"O-oh, you forgot your bottle." You bashfully state, lifting the bottle towards him.
You look up at him (sigh he's tall) and you actually feel your heart stop when his lips curve into the most heart warming smile.
"Wow, thanks a lot", he gratefully says, taking back his bottle, "I'm Hoseok, by the way."
Hoseok.
You mirror his smile and try to not turn red as you reply "Y/n."
"Nice to meet you! Thanks again." He coolly says before continuing on his way.
He leaves you windswept and heart-stricken in the middle of the doorway.
(You quickly break out of it when annoyed students try to squeeze and push past you taking up the whole exit).
2.
The second time you converse with the man was 3 months after. And after a few exchanged glances, you're confident in saying that your attraction to this man has exponentially grown to unfathomable amounts.
You can safely say that you think you have a serious crush on this man.
This man being Hoseok. Because that's his name and he told you himself (tee-hee).
When you arrive at the lecture hall, you are greeted with an unfamiliar sight: people waiting outside of the room. When you walk up, you see the familiar faces you regularly see standing around and you deduce that the room must be locked (sometimes security forgets to unlock the lecture halls in the morning). As you lean against the wall and look down at your phone, you are surprised by the sudden voice next to you.
"This feels so weird standing around."
You look up and unconsciously let a smitten smile smother your face at Hoseok (tee-hee <3) next to you. You let yourself gaze at his breath-taking face for a moment. You feel your heart start racing again, as you stumble over what words to say.
"Yeah definitely, I'm so used to just sitting down before the professor gets here."
He glances at you, surprised you replied. In that moment you realise: he was talking to himself. That's awkward.
"No, yeah, I like to prep myself before a 9am lecture. I'm just wondering, who schedules 9am lectures on a Monday?" He light-heartedly comments, offering you one of his sweet smiles.
"You and me both, Hoseok. I'm wondering the same thing", you shyly respond, your smitten smile slightly burning your cheeks. Omg this is the longest conversation you have had with him!
You watch as his brows furrowed in confusion and his perfectly shaped head tilt to the side a bit. He lets out a bashful smile.
"Sorry, have we met before?" He lets out an embarrassed laugh and continues when you mirror his confusion, "You know my name?"
Oh...
You feel your heart sink a bit (a lot) and your lips move into a self-conscious smile. He doesn't remember you.
"Oh... Yeah we met briefly before." You look down, trying to cover your disappointment, "It was like at the beginning of the year so..."
You're surprised you can hear the sounds of people shuffling to move into the now unlocked lecture hall over the volume of how embarrassing this situation was. You both slowly trail behind the rest of the class into the room.
"Right, sorry, sometimes my memory is not the best!" Hoseok quickly reassures you, his tone devoid of any awkwardness, "What was your name again?"
It should be embarrassing at how quickly your mood elevated under his interest in knowing your name.
"I'm Y/n", you beam.
"Y/n", Hoseok says, more to himself, "I promise I won't forget next time".
He gives you another smile and a playful poke to your cheek, which makes you feel like the only one in the room, as he strides up to claim an empty seat. You feel yourself float up to your OSP (optimal seating position), unable to stop smiling from the brief exchange.
"I promise I won't forget next time"
Tee-hee, you have promises. And he touched your cheek! Tee-hee.
You spent the whole lecture divulging in the potential possibility that your crush might not be one-sided.
Tee-hee.
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So here you are, five months deep in being the strongest trooper in your secret infatuation with this stunning man. You can’t help but give yourself a mental pat on the back for successfully keeping your mouth shut about it.
The pat on the back becomes even more vigorous when you manage to maintain your composure every time you spot him around campus, which has strangely been frequently lately. Surprisingly, this increase in sightings had nothing to do with you and everything to do with Yoongi.
You’ve been on high alert around Yoongi ever since he casually mentioned that he had a crush on someone in his classes. However, knowing you and your nature, he refused to divulge any details, nevermind the identity of the crush. It stung a little (okay, maybe more than a little) when he brushed you off, but you totally get it. After all, out of everyone, Yoongi was never the one to entertain your romanticising shit and especially not your meddling ways. Yet, there were instances where you could work out the object of Yoongi’s affections:
When Yoongi, out of nowhere, wanted to start sitting outside for lunch, near a particular group of friends (even though he hates sitting too long in the sun).
When Yoongi insisted you accompany him to watch the musical theatre society's dance practice (even though he was the conductor and didn’t really need to be there).
When Yoongi dragged you along to the dance society's performances, under the guise of "oh, I like the music" (not that you're complaining because Hoseok is also a part of that society tee-hee).
The common factor?: Jimin.
You couldn't blame Yoongi: Jimin was undeniably a sight to behold. And he is so lovely! One time your bag got stuck in the library’s revolving doors and you spent a good 5 minutes panickedly running in circles before Jimin stopped the whole crowd to come rescue you <3 (you never really talk about it because the situation actually made you want to curl up and never see the sun again). And every time Yoongi tries (emphasis on tries) to casually talk about Jimin, a cute little blush paints your friend's face, which makes you <3. And every time you see Jimin's smile it makes you, and the rest of the population just <3. And every time Yoongi sees Jimin from afar, you swear you can see the hearts jump out of his eyes <3.
The man wasn’t exactly subtle.
You also should thank Yoongi (and the gods) as Jimin is friends with Hoseok, meaning every lunch you could discreetly sneak glances at him, his perfect smile, his contagious laugh, the way his whole body would light up as he animatedly recounted a funny story to his friends and-
Anyways, since you were constantly looking that way, you, being the ever-vigilant detective, also noticed that someone else was also sneaking peeks at someone. That someone sneaking peeks being Jimin and the someone receiving said glances being Yoongi. Hee-hee. Jimin totally has a crush on Yoongi. And Yoongi totally has a crush on Jimin. They both totally have a crush on each other!
Even though you tried your best to not meddle, you just couldn’t resist. Much to Yoongi’s annoyance, you proceeded to bombard your friend with retellings of every single occurrence that Jimin so much breathed in his way in, of course, excruciating detail. You insisted for your friend to ask him on a date or confess or do anything, but only if he wanted to, of course.
You only seized your pestering when Yoongi finally grumbles a quiet “fine”. You also decided to seize any teasing of the growing excited smile on his face.
And so, it was on the fateful Thursday before Valentine’s Day week (which was just the heart-shaped cherry on top) Yoongi shyly asked Jimin on a date… And he said yes.
:)
Apparently the date went really, really well :) So well that since they had known each other for a while, Jimin thought it only fitting to ask Yoongi if they could be boyfriends :) To which your friend broke out in his signature gummy smile and said yes :) Yoongi got a Valentine’s :) Yoongi, Mr. Stop-being-annoying-with-love-Y/n, was about to be annoying with love :)
-
The weekend anticipation for Monday was nearly unbearable. Not only did it promise the chance to catch up with Yoongi and extract every detail about the date - how did Jimin pop the question, Yoongi’s response to the question, Jimin’s response to Yoongi’s response to the question, etc. - but there was also the added excitement of Yoongi suggesting that the two friend groups sit together. One friend group including you and one friendship group including Hoseok. Tee-hee.
But when the clock struck 7am, you woke up with an odd feeling.
Something had felt off the previous day too, almost as if the world shifted its axis. Firstly, when your regular couple arrived at the restaurant, only half of them sat down at their usual table. The man sat alone, tears streaming down his face as he ordered his usual sirloin steak, nearly choking up as he had to stop himself from ordering his partner’s usual vegan burger. Or should you say, ex-partner… Turns out they weren’t the happy couple you saw them to be, they were actually going through a divorce. Instead of going home at closing time, you found yourself awkwardly comforting the man (i.e., stiffly patting his shoulder) as he worryingly wailed loudly into the table while you tried to find a way to ethically and morally make him pay the bill (though, he did leave his most generous tip ever, but you guess it's likely because the bill was half its usual price). Your heart couldn’t help to ache as you saw him braving the rain without an umbrella, all by himself.
You would be lying if you said that the couple’s breakup didn’t affect you in any way, you couldn’t shake off the weird feeling it gave you. You swore, every time you served them, they were a couple madly in-love, did you really misread the whole situation?
As you walked through campus on your way to the lecture, you tried to not think about the couple and you tried to distract yourself from the strange feeling, reminding yourself of the excitement of today. Today was the day you could finally talk to Hoseok (cue you giggling and hiding your face). You could finally get to know him beyond what you see in the lectures, beyond the brief mentions about him in passing conversations with Yoongi, beyond his dance performances, beyond your fleeting exchanged glances. You finally will know Hoseok as a friend, or maybe something more (tee-hee).
Just before you start to daydream (or as Yoongi would say: delude) about the potential conversations with Hoseok. You feel yourself still at the shattering sound beneath your feet. When you look down, you feel that odd feeling creep throughout your body; you accidentally crushed a pair of glasses on the ground. You don’t know why you remain staring at the broken lens (you also realise they are one of those expensive Ray Bans - yikes sorry to the owner). After you stood there for what felt like an eternity, it hit you why they look odd: they were rose-tinted glasses.
You just broke a pair of rose-tinted glasses.
Huh.
The distraction caused you to arrive 2 minutes late for the lecture, having to sit on one of the only available seats right at the front of the lecture hall (no OSP today guys). Much to your sadness, this meant you were not able to sneak any glances at the man and his beautiful side profile. :(
Maybe it was the fact you didn’t have Hoseok to distract you or maybe it was the strange feeling that made you really listen to your professor without your usual optimistic bias. But you finally realise how lowkey (highkey) misogynistic your professor was about his wife.
“Now, as an example of positive reinforcement, I can’t help but talk about a perfect one from my own experiences. I’ve talked about my endless efforts to win my lovely wife over, the gestures, the flowers, the compliments. But now that I’ve won her heart, she associates me with all that lovey-dovey stuff so I don't need to do any of that anymore! Like, why bother doing anything extra when she’s already fulfilling her role and doing all my laundry? This type of conditioning gets you an endless supply of clean underwear! Or is that too problematic to say these days? Am I going to get cancelled?” Your professor laughs.
You feel your mouth gape in pure shock (and cringe), as your ears pick up the awkward and fake laughs throughout the lecture hall.
Huh. That wasn’t very romantic.
The professor continues on and leaves you with a sour taste in your mouth. That strange feeling intensifies throughout you for the rest of the hour and carries on until lunch.
-
As you joined the group of people, you took a seat and offered smiles in response to everyone’s greetings. You noticed Hoseok had not arrived yet, and you tried not to react when you heard Namjoon, one of Jimin’s friends, complaining about his professor holding Hoseok back. From the 15 minutes you spend sitting with them, you deduce that Jimin’s friends are really nice: Namjoon was particularly endearing and Taehyung was charmingly entertaining. If it weren’t for the strange feeling nagging at you, you’d be more talkative, but instead, you could only muster occasional contributions to the conversation.
Feeling a nudge from your friend Molly next to you, you turned to her as she quietly asked if you were okay, worried because of your unusual silence. You quickly offer an excuse about stress from your group presentation and she nods, not entirely convinced. You also feel a brief comforting squeeze from your other friend, Lia, beside you. However, they both know you well enough to know that they shouldn’t press anything further. You meekly look around the table and you notice Yoongi already looking at you, a hint of concern forming on his face. You tried to reassure him with a big smile to indicate you are perfectly fine, but you could tell he wasn’t convinced. Curse your friends and their perceptiveness. But before he could press further, Jimin, being the angel that he is, distracts him with something funny on his phone, and you find yourself zoning out of the conversation.
“Well, I thought the movie was very good!” Taehyung argues.
“Of course you would think that movie was good, Tae,” Namjoon scoffs, “It was right up your hipster alley, a failed attempt at a romance movie disguised by some weird, unconventional filming techniques.”
Your attention snapped back when Taehyung gasped loudly.
“Failed attempt?” Taehyung repeats with disbelief, “I’ll have you know, that movie was the epitome of romance!”
“Tae, the most romantic thing about that movie was that it was caring enough to only put us through 1 hour of it,” Namjoon deadpans.
Chuckling spread around the table, leaving you a bit confused. You don’t even know what movie they’re talking about.
“Don’t talk about romance in front of Y/n guys” Lia teases, “We won’t hear the end of it, especially so close to Valentine’s day.”
Suddenly, all the attention is on you, your friends fondly looking at you, ready for your usual response. Normally, you’d play along and potentially bond with Taehyung over whatever movie this is. But instead, you stutter, unsure on how to respond.
“Well-” You start, before being interrupted.
“Oh my god, hey guys”, you hear from behind you, the voice slightly out of breath.
As everyone greets him back, you feel Lia, who was sitting next to you, shuffling to her left, making space for Hoseok to sit down. Next to you.
Instantly, the strange mood seems to dissipate into thin air. Omg he’s sitting next to you! Being a bit shy, you stay frozen, not turning around to look at the man. You feel yourself start to smile at the feeling of him next to you, and you nearly unconsciously moan at how good this man smells. Have some dignity Y/n, you think to yourself.
“Sorry I’m late, my meeting was supposed to be only 30 minutes but the professor went over an hour,” he laughs out, then looks towards his friend and his boyfriend, “I hope the in-law’s meeting is going well.”
Everyone around the table, including you, laughs, assuring him that it’s going well. You can’t help but let out a dreamy sigh - he’s so hot. Hoseok proceeds to go around to learn the names of the new faces, saying a nice to meet you to Lia, jokingly reintroducing himself to Yoongi (apparently they’re actually friends), and then mentioning to Molly that he is pretty sure they are in the same assignment group for one of his classes. Your face breaks out in a smile with how well he gets on with everyone. He is just so bright and sociable, you can’t help but feel your heart warm at the thought.
Finally, you muster the courage to turn towards him, intending to break the ice with the weird comment your professor said in the morning lecture but Hoseok starts before you.
He starts with the same gut-wrenchingly gorgeous smile,
“And what’s your name?”
Oh…
You feel yourself speechless at the question, colour draining in your face. If this was any other day and if this was anyone else, you would tease saying you’ve met before, joke about him already asking that question, maybe even fake hurt and dramatically ask if you were really that forgettable. But it did hurt, and you don’t feel like you have it in you to embarrass yourself, so instead you introduce yourself again.
For the third time.
“I’m Y/n”, you reply with a tense smile.
“Well it’s really nice to meet you!” He beams.
Throughout the entire lunch, silence envelops you like a suffocating blanket, muffling the chatter around you. All your senses are surrounded by Hoseok, yet he doesn’t even seem to notice you. You watch him interact effortlessly with others, his eyes light up with warmth and his smiles so familiar, you once believed they were reserved solely for you. But now, you realise those looks and smiles are merely part of his default demeanour, unfairly extended to everyone without second thought. The realisation cuts straight through you.
It’s not that he intentionally excludes you; he offers small nods and fleeting smiles of acknowledgements when your eyes meet. He just doesn’t fully register your presence or, better put, is interested in your presence more than he’s interested in anyone else. You don’t know what’s worse. Either way, the pang of insignificance hurts you deep as you sit there feeling like an idiot.
Meanwhile, your friends are engrossed in getting to know everyone else, and for the first time, you don’t bother deciphering the subtle exchanges between Molly and Taehyung, or analyse how well they bounce off each other, jokingly debating about something. Instead, you feel a bit irked by the sight of Jimin and Yoongi being so shyly cute with each other.
And it’s when Lia’s friendly tease prompts Hoseok to playfully poke her cheek, just like he did with you, you quietly stand up, wanting nothing more but to leave. The table suddenly grows quiet, your feigned excuse about seeing your professor being the only thing that is heard. After giving your friends a pointed look that says ‘please don’t follow me’, you pack your uneaten lunch and make a hasty exit, ignoring the worried gazes of your friends.
The truth hits you like a bus - he didn’t even know who you were. He treats everyone with the same warmth and friendliness, all those supposed shared moments weren’t special at all. You just convinced yourself they were, romanticising all those supposed connections to mean something. Did your brain really deluded you into thinking your foolish crush on him was actually requited?
Perhaps Yoongi was right about you. Unrealistic. Delusional. Now that you think about it, probably needs to be served with a restraining order. You didn’t just imagine that Hoseok was interested in you too but you also imagined that he actually knew who you were.
You feel like a fool.
As you fight back tears from spilling from your eyes, you trudge home, neglecting your next lecture. You’ll catch up on it later.
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As you quietly slip away, a concerned silence settles over the group. Your friends exchange glances, each wondering if anyone knows what might be troubling you.
“Is she okay?” Namjoon breaks the silence, his brows furrowing with genuine concern as the group’s gaze follows your retreating figure.
“I actually don’t know…” Molly answers, her voice laced with worry, “She was so quiet. She said something earlier about a presentation but I know she doesn’t have anything like that coming up, so…”
“Shit, I should’ve said something earlier”, Yoongi mumbles with a loud sigh, reaching for his phone to send a message in your group chat.
Are you okay? Are you going back to the house? We’ll come meet you - yoongi
“We should go check on her.” Lia suggests, already rising from her seat, with Molly and Yoongi following suit.
Just then, the group’s phones all ping. Yoongi instantly reads the notification
I’m fine! I just have a headache :( - y/n
Don’t you dare move away from that table, Yoongi. You guys better have fun for me! I’ll see you guys at the house! - y/n
With a small scoff, Yoongi is about to ignore your pleas and continue to pack his things but then the phone pings again.
Please don’t come meet me - y/n
As Yoongi reads your last message, he sits down with a dejected sigh, everyone watching him curiously. The other two pull their phones out to read the messages, also sitting back down.
“I think she just wants to be alone.” Yoongi clarifies.
“Are you guys sure?” Jimin cautiously asks, “We don’t mind if you guys have to go.”
The other three men agree with Jimin, their concerns evident. Reluctantly, Yoongi shakes his head and assures the group that they don’t need to leave, mentioning that he’ll talk to you later at the house. Silence descends on the table once more.
“I hope everything’s alright,” Jimin voices, “maybe something happened during her classes?”
“No, she only had that intro to psych lecture this morning and she always mentions how that’s pretty chill,” Molly dismisses, looking down deep in thought.
“Oh, I’m in that class” Hoseok suddenly interjects, drawing everyone’s attention, “I didn’t notice anything unusual.”
“Yeah, I forgot you’re in that class” Yoongi remarks, “I’m surprised you haven’t run into her.”
Hoseok nods silently. Suddenly, realisation dawns on him. He knew you looked familiar - you’ve literally spoken before. He guesses he didn’t remember cause it was a long time ago, and he never sees you in the lecture hall. Perhaps you always sit in the back? Now guilt weighs on him, remembering your face earlier. Your eyes lit up in familiarity and a cute smile grew on your face, until he asked for your name. Then you looked embarrassed, your eyes slightly dimming. He didn’t recognise you. Hoseok falls silent, consumed by his thoughts.
“Well,” Jimin starts, trying to steer the conversation in a more positive direction, “I hope she’s okay! You always talk about Y/n so I can’t wait to get to know her.”
Yoongi smiles warmly at Jimin, appreciating the attempt to lighten the mood.
“Yeah, Yoongi talks about how endearing Y/n is,” Jimin continues, addressing his friends, “I actually met her once before! I think she got stuck in the library doors, and I helped her out. I was so surprised because most people would be really embarrassed but she was so grateful and optimistic. It really threw me off guard. No idea why she would be friends with you, Yoongi”
The conversation shifts and the table bursts out in laughter as Yoongi rolls his eyes playfully.
“No, really, sometimes she’s the complete opposite of you, Yoons,” Lia adds with excitement, “I literally remember when Molly was ordering our drinks and started to argue with one of the guys at the bar, so we were gonna go over and help her. But, Y/n stopped us, insisting that they were clearly just flirting. Then, Yoongi and Y/n started bickering about whether or not they were about to fight or kiss. Then all of a sudden we heard a scream and realised Molly threw her drink on him and they started to fight.”
“I’ll never forget Y/n’s face,” Yoongi heartedly laughs, reminiscing the incident, “I’ve never seen her more mortified.”
Everyone joins in the laughter. Hoseok looks around, noting how just the thought of you brightens your friend’s faces.
“Oh my God, that day got us banned from that place!,” Molly added, “I swear, she can romanticise anything.”
“Sounds like Taehyung with that atrocious ‘romance’ movie”, Namjoon jokes, earning a playful jab from the man.
“That’s it, someone bring Y/n back. I need someone to back me up on this”, Taehyung jokingly whines, eliciting more laughter, “I’ll force her to be my new movie buddy.”
“As long as it’s a romance movie, she won’t need much convincing”, Lia adds.
“With the movies Tae enjoys, we can only pray for her”, Namjoon sarcastically comments, dodging another hit from Taehyung.
“Well, Y/n finds joy and beauty in most things,” Yoongi starts, his eyes softening as he reflects on your unique perspective “I’m jealous of her, she can find love in anything and everything.”
The table falls into momentary silences, Yoongi’s words hanging in the air. Hoseok’s gaze flickers with intrigue as he processes the sentiment. His perception of you subtly shifts when Lia, with a mischievous grin, adds,
"Well, she loves love".
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/42e120980c9ab6dd999a810c2b18577d/07cb3e48a1b8b2f7-32/s540x810/2761ab41ae6e1bf2396d12c46b858d20dba6b267.jpg)
So you have actually decided you hate love.
Upon arriving home, you collapse onto your bed, letting your tears flow freely. You found yourself unable to stop crying. You don’t know if it's from the sheer humbling experience or the sorrow of mourning your imagined relationship with Hoseok. You just couldn't believe that he would do that to you? After everything you’ve imagined been through?
For the remainder of the week, you choose to avoid your university commitments, wallowing in self-pity within the safe confinement of your bedroom. Despite sharing a house with your three friends, you surprisingly succeed in avoiding conversation with them. Occasionally, when you attempt to sneak out to use the toilet, you find sweet treats left at your bedroom door - a silent reminder that they’re there whenever you’re ready to talk. But three whole days pass without a word. You even miss Valentine’s day.
On Thursday, a knock interrupts your solitude, and you fully intend to ignore it, not yet ready to face the outside world.
“Y/n, I’m coming in whether you like it or not, so you have 30 seconds to not be naked before I open this door.” Yoongi announces from outside, anticipating your refusal.
“Come in.” he hears you mumble from inside.
He enters to find you cocooned in your blanket on the bed. You both share a silent gaze and Yoongi’s heart aches at the sight of your eyes slowly filling up with tears. As your lips start to quiver, about to burst out in tears, Yoongi rushes over and envelops you in his arms.
Yoongi isn’t known for giving hugs, but as you sob into his shirt, you realise he should do it more often; he’s a really good hugger. And in the second that you feel your friend give you a comforting kiss on the crown of your head, you let go completely.
Yoongi remains silent the whole time you reveal your crush on Hoseok. The only sign you know he is still listening is when he tightens his grasp on you whenever your story elicits harder sobs. Yoongi knows its best to not say or question anything, especially when you start blubbering about some acronym he’s never heard of (something about an OPM), which means 2 rows behind and 10 seats to the left? He decides to not probe further, understanding that right now you just need someone to listen.
"I’m so stupid, I should've known this would have happened, I always get carried away, I always do this,” You sob tiredly, messily wiping your snotty nose, “I need to stop being like this, I think there’s something actually wrong with me Yoongi. I feel like a complete idiot”
Through your swollen eyes, you see him shake his head.
“No, Y/n, stop it. You’re not stupid, you’re not an idiot, there’s nothing wrong with you, and you definitely don’t need to stop being you.” Yoongi scolds, pulling you in for another hug.
“B-but you even said it yourself, I’m unrealistic with these things,” You choke before bursting out into full-on wails, “I made myself believe that he actually liked me back and he didn’t even know I existed.”
You both remain hugging for a while, and with the feeling of Yoongi soothingly rubbing your back, your sobs gradually calm down.
"You know," Yoongi begins quietly, "I love you and I love that you love love because your love for love pushed me to try to be with someone I'm in love with. Only you could've done that.”
The room falls quiet as you digest his words..
“And I also hate how many times I said love in that sentence"
"You said it at least 6 times" you sniffle, smiling up at your friend, “Thank you, Yoons.”
He mirrors your smile.
“Don’t even mention it.” He says, pulling you in for a side hug, “And to hell with that man. Surely if he doesn’t even appreciate my best friend, he’s not worth it. What’s even so great about him?! Huh?” He shouts out, as you let out a small sniffing giggle.
"He's got really great cheekbones", you start, and a beat of silence passes as Yoongi meekly agrees.
"Yeah, he does.”
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In an attempt to cheer you up, Yoongi invites you to join him and Jimin for lunch on Sunday before your shift, promising a rather unconventional third-wheel experience. Despite your initial hesitations, as you watch the undeniable cuteness between them, your temporary barriers crumble, and you watch their interactions with joy and just the faintest tinie-wine hint of bittersweetness. Perhaps it’s because Jimin’s genuine concern for your well-being radiates comfort or maybe it’s his angelic aura, you find yourself confiding in him about your crush on Hoseok.
As you share your sorrows with the two men in front of you, you release a sigh of relief as he takes in the information with nothing but open-mindedness and kindness. His reassurance and comfort that Hoseok’s forgetfulness is not a reflection of you, but rather a quirk of his character - or, as Jimin admits, an annoyance - brings you comfort, leaving you feeling better as you make your way to work.
Throughout the rest of your shift, a sense of peace settles within you. Perhaps, deep down, there’s a part of you that just thrives on romance and love, a factor ingrained in your disposition. As you clean tables, you come to the realisation: who cares if romance seems a bit elusive to you right now? It undeniably exists in the world, evident all around you. In your friends, in love songs, and even in those silly magnet socks. And that brings you happiness - a fact made abundantly clear by the joy you feel knowing your friend is experiencing it.
Maybe, just maybe, it’s just not your time, and you muster the courage to admit, with a shaky exhale, that perhaps Hoseok simply wasn’t meant to be that person for you.
But you don’t dwell on that thought for too long, getting distracted by your divorced regular walking in with a new woman.
-
You stride to your Monday lecture actually feeling really great. I mean, you acquired a new friend (Jimin <3), you have a feeling Molly may have a little thing for Taehyung (which you’ll undoubtedly observe with unsolicited interest at lunch), and your Sunday regular (who strangely moved on from a whole marriage in just a week) still gives good tips. You feel ecstatic even.
On your way to your lecture, you pause briefly. Your eyebrows furrow at the sight of two rats sitting together on a bench, their tails somehow strangely interlocking. It was oddly and bizarrely romantic, prompting you to send a picture in the groupchat. For once, everyone actually agreed, even Yoongi.
So, who cares if you romanticise things? It got you this far, even through countless 9am lectures - a victory for someone with your habit of missing lectures. Perhaps you could still appreciate Hoseok's face, it's still a gorgeous face. And besides, when you really think about it, you don't actually know anything about him! He might actually be an awful person! You try to tell yourself that, but there’s still a small part of your heart that remains unconvinced.
You enter the lecture hall surprisingly 10 minutes early, say goodbye to OSP, hello to sitting wherever the fuck you want (which is kind of a relief considering Hoseok tended to sit really far behind and you really struggled to see the board sometimes).
Absorbed in Yoongi’s latest post of him and Jimin, you’re startled by a familiar voice beside you.
"Is this seat taken?"
Oh?
You look up to see the devastatingly handsome ray of sunshine himself, gesturing to the seat where your bag is on. You try not to inwardly scream at how good he looks. He’s wearing glasses you’ve never seen before and a really fluffy looking red jumper, which just makes him look so boyfriend and so, so gorgeous.
"No, it's not actually", you hesitantly move your bag and offer a polite smile.
You watch him sit down next to you and give you another earth-shaking smile, to which you offer a timid one back. You curse your heart for speeding up.
Don't get your hopes up, Y/n.
In order to distract yourself, you look down at your phone again and answer some messages from your family, unaware of Hoseok stealing glances at you.
He notices just how cute your nose is, how sparkly your eyes are when you gleefully read whatever is on your screen. He is a bit embarrassed to admit how much he would love to know how to make the corners of your lips move upwards like that. He also notes his sudden urge to grab your attention away from your screen and onto something else. Or maybe someone else.
He also feels the need to giggle and scream into a pillow. Huh.
Before he opens his mouth to make conversation and apologise for what happened last week, the professor begins his lectures, interrupting his chance.
As the lecture progresses, your professor makes another weird ‘joke’ about his wife, which makes you halt your note taking to stare at him in disbelief.
"I’m so surprised his wife hasn’t left him yet" Hoseok whispers to you.
You giggle at the remark, your head instinctively dipping down to avoid drawing attention. Hoseok's eyes brighten at the sound of your laugh, completely captivated by the sound. If you looked at him at this moment, you would notice that his face lit up much more than usual, a glint of endearment painting his smile. Your eyes meet, and for a moment, time stands still. You’re struck with how breathtakingly pretty he looks up close, it’s almost unfair. Your eyes are drawn to details you never noticed before - like the charming mole on his lips that makes you <3 (also ignites the desire to kiss it).
Although you know the lesson from the past week was that you can sometimes be delusional in your romanticising, but this time you are 100% sure you see it objectively: Hoseok briefly looks down at your lips before meeting your gaze again. It’s clear you didn’t imagine it, as you catch a sudden look of embarrassment wash over his face as if he got caught out. That’s because he did just get caught out.
You both look away from each other’s eyes, the intensity of the moment becoming a bit too overwhelming. But you both continue to sit together in silence, your shoulders brushing, with wide, bashful smiles plastered on your faces. The same thoughts (or lack thereof) swirling in both of your minds:
Tee-hee.
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a/n: tee-motherfucking-hee :) Thank you for reading!
#bts angst#bts fluff#bts x reader#bts hoseok#hoseok angst#hoseok fluff#bts fanfic#hoseok x reader#hoseok scenarios#jhope fluff#jhope angst
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you do know that phones exists, right?
why wouldn’t taylor and travis know each other? they likely talk every single day and have spent most of their free time with each other.
even if you don’t see someone for a while, you’re still in communication lol. if anything, they learned more about each other while being apart - they learned how the other person copes with being apart, how much effort they put in when the other is not around etc.
you do not have to be up someone’s ass all day to know them lmao
I disagree very fucking strongly because I think someone can be lovely when they’re very far away and absolutely unbearable day to day. People can also be fun in small bursts but not great for you non stop.
Idk lol like all romance aside, the worst housemate I ever had was one of my then best friends (this experience killed the friendship dead). We spoke every day and hung out pretty much every day, we had done sleepovers at each other’s places actually, we’d gone to a festival together and shared a tent and we were super excited to live together. It was a fucking shitshow because even though we liked each other like actually it didn’t work at all day to day and we annoyed the absolute fuck out of each other (I think she’s a fucking slob lol like that was the biggest problem I had and also really weird like about how she does things and idk what all her issues with me were but it was a mutually miserable experience) she wound up moving out after two months and I replaced her with the best housemate I ever had (who was a literal rando I found on Facebook lol - it turned out we had like one mutual friend but like I don’t think I knew that when I had him move in), who I lived with for 18 months until he wanted to move in with his gf (which like, fair). I did “know” my friend super well but I had no idea what she’d be like to live with permanently lol.
Both times I moved in with people romantically, I discovered a lot of shit about them even though like both of those decisions came out of “well we’re together essentially every night anyway so having two places is stupid” and it did work out in both cases but also again the decisions came out of having almost lived together before (not just doing fun things together). And still it changed the dynamic a lot and I learned a lot of different things about them.
It’s all romantic and shit to say that if you talk a lot and stuff you know the person but it misses out the boring realities of life. I also get that very religious people often move quickly -> straight to marriage and only find this stuff out once they’re actually fucking married but there’s a level of investment there then that people who aren’t religious won’t and don’t have? So like they’re gonna work on things because they sorta really have to whereas many of us would be like “oh my fuck this is terrible” lol.
I guess I’m just a pragmatist re relationships and I don’t believe that a year long party in likely the busiest years of their respective lives sets up a good understanding of what boring day to day shit is gonna look like with that person.
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House Calls (M, Original)
This takes place in some vague 20th century Russian countryside winterscape. I might have more to say about Anatoly later as a character, but as for now he’s a new young doctor just doing his best.
***
After a long day, Anatoly let the cold wind blow the door shut behind him as he slumped, weary and chilled, against the wall. His medical bag dropped from his hands to the floor with a thud, and he swiped his hand beneath his runny nose. In a moment he’d move, shake the snow from his overcoat, brew a tea for his throat, but for now…
A mewling sound drew his attention to the window above the washbasin in the kitchen, and he groaned. “The least you could do is close the window behind you,” he grumbled as he scooped Mashka up with a hand under her gray belly. With the other hand, he pushed the offending window shut and locked it, more for habit’s sake than out of any utility, as even a tiny stray tabby cat could find her way in through it. No wonder the house was always freezing.
He set Mashka down on the floor near the tiny hearth and lit a fire there to chase away the chill of the open window as well as the general chill that seeped into the house as a matter of course. Living in the countryside granted him slightly larger living quarters than the city tenements he had called home in his youth, but he had no one with whom to share his little shack. The loneliness of it all, especially when the wind whistled hard against the shoddy window frame , made the house feel colder and more expansive than ever, and there was no-one he could press against, to keep warm and chase away such a feeling.
As if privy to his thoughts, Mashka mewed reproachfully.
“Except for you, of course” he told the cat. “Though you could learn some manners.”
Anatoly supposed it was good the cat had shaken him from his reverie, else he might have fallen asleep at his doorstep. While he knew enough of medicine to know napping a bit in a wet coat would not actually make him sicker, he knew enough of life to know the experience wouldn’t have been enjoyable.
He brewed a pot of tea, more water than leaves, over the fire and warmed his stiff hands while he did so. Besides the tea leaves, all that remained in his measly kitchen was sad-looking half potato that not even Mashka had nibbled at. It was just as well; Anatoly didn’t feel much like eating anyhow.
Mashka climbed into his lap, kneading at his stomach and blinking up at him expectantly. “I don’t have anything,” he told her sternly. “Don’t look at me like that. I’m not going out to get anything either, not in that—“ He gestured at the snowstorm raging beyond the window “—and definitely not with the c-c-c-cold I’ve–I’ve got, Hehh’TSCHHH!”
The expulsion nearly launched the cat off his chest, and Mashka yowled her displeasure. “Snf! I’m sick. If you want to be my housemate, you’ll have to get used to it.”
Mashka mewed again disapprovingly, before burrowing her head into Anatoly’s shirt. No sooner had she done so, however, than did his breath hitch again and send her scrambling.
“Hehh’TSCHHoo! Ihhh’TSCHHooo! Ugh.” He sniffled wetly, feeling oddly betrayed that the stray cat would desert him so easily. He called after her. “Make yourself useful and make me some soup.”
Anatoly coughed, feeling suddenly shivery and a bit weak. He thought about taking his temperature, but his bag was out of arm's reach, so he disregarded the idea. He probably didn’t have one anyhow, and even if he did, he didn’t intend to do anything about it.
He was half-asleep again, lulled this time by the pleasant warmth and crackle of the fire, when he was startled by a knock at the door. No one who had any sense would be round for a social call in this weather, so whatever it was must have been urgent. Anatoly forced himself to his feet and opened the door, bracing himself against the cold wind it let in.
“Lydia,” he said upon seeing the neighbor girl bundled at his doorstep. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Lydia blushed and turned slightly away, worrying her braid between her fingers. “I know it’s late but Mama just cut her hand chopping potatoes and she says she’s fine but I’ve held pressure to the wound for ten minutes and it’s still bleeding so I think it needs stitches and I’d do it myself but–”
Anatoly held up his hand with a smile. “Just let me get my bag and my coat and I’ll come with you.”
He went to retrieve his coat from its hook, only to see Mashka sitting atop the washbasin, paw outstretched toward the window. He went to retrieve her, debating the merits of stuffing her in his bag to avoid any troublemaking in his absence, but before he could do anything, a tickle sprang up in his nose.
“Ehh’TSSCHH!” He sniffled heavily and winced; that one had hurt his throat. “Mashka, don’t even think about opening that window!”
Lydia, ever the polite and slightly timid girl she was, had remained in the threshold instead of following Anatoly in. “Oh,” she called worriedly, “if you have company…”
Anatoly settled for placing the offending feline near the hearth, hoping that the warmth would prevail upon what little sense she had and make her reluctant to move to invite more cold in. “No, I don’t have company–snfff!--it’s just this damn cat is always leaving my windows open.”
He slipped into his coat and collected his satchel. “Ehh’KSSSHHoo!” He turned, burying his nose in the crook of the arm that did not hold his bag. Blinking away stray tears (that sneeze really grated on his throat), he straightened up. “Ready. Let’s go.”
Lydia frowned, her fingers slipping from the ends of her braid. “You’re sick.”
Anatoly shrugged. “There’s only so many times you can be sneezed on before you start sn–ehh–sneezing yourself. KSSHHEWW!”
Lydia still eyed him dubiously, but led him back through the snow toward her home down the road. The cold air instantly made Anatoly’s nose run, but it wasn’t worth it to dig out a handkerchief for the journey, so he merely lagged behind Lydia to spare her listening to him sniffle as if his life depended on it.
They reached the house, which only slightly larger than Anatoly’s but in a lesser state of disrepair and much warmer inside. “Mama, I’ve brought Anatoly to give you stitches,” Lydia called, shutting the door and taking Anatoly’s coat. A vicious shiver assaulted him at the layer’s removal, but luckily it went unnoticed. At the table sat Lydia’s mother and a half-chopped radish, which she eyed in a way that spoke of betrayal and vengeance.
“Stitches,” the woman spat, even as she pressed a reddened cloth to her palm. “I don’t need stitches.”
Anatoly set his bag on the table and gestured to the handkerchief beside her that had already been bloodily sacrificed to the cause. “I would say you do, Yelena.”
“Anatoly, what’s happened? You sound like you’ve gargled with walnuts.”
Anatoly felt his cheeks warm, but there was no use in lying. “I’m just a bit under the weather.” Or, no use in lying too much. “Let’s see your hand.”
Even as Yelena did as she was told, she shook her head. “Tch, Lydia, bringing a sick boy out in the storm for a little knick.”
“Lydia did exactly the right thing,” Anatoly said, and instantly felt the girl relax beside him. “No sense bloodying up more handkerchiefs than necessary when a little needlework can avoid it.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Yelena reached out with her uninjured hand to pinch Lydia’s cheek. “My smart little girl.”
Anatoly smiled to himself as he went to the sink to wash his hands, then took the supplies he needed from his bag. He tipped a bit of iodine solution onto a cotton bandage, then motioned for Yelena to give him her hand.
“First, I’ll disinfect–“ Anatoly pulled away and turned his head. “No, first I’ll Ihhh’hihhhmKSHHH!! Hehh’KSHHH!” He shook his head vigorously with a sniffle. “Hopefully I got those out for the time being.”
Yelena made a sympathetic noise in the back of her throat, but said nothing more as Anatoly prepared and began to stitch up her hand. He took his time, wanting to leave her with as little a scar and thus as great of mobility in her palm as possible. Lydia was practically on his back, so close was she to watch him work, but he didn’t mind.
What he did mind, though, was the unfortunate consequence of looking downward so intently for such an unbroken stretch of time. He was sniffling, first frequently, then urgently, before trying to turn and wipe his nose on his shoulder.
“Snf! Snf! SNFFF!”
He was so close, just two more stitches, but he could not wait any longer. He held Yelena’s hand in place and twisted the opposite direction, hoping the warning he was about to give was enough to avoid spraying Lydia. “Excuse me. Hehh’KMPFF! Hihhh’TSHHOooo!” He crushed his nose into his shoulder again as he turned back to his task. “Sorry,” he said blearily.
“Poor boy,” Yelena cooed.
Anatoly managed to hold back his next sneeze just long enough to finish the stitches and tie them off, but no longer. “Hehh’RSHHH!” He twisted away again, before turning back to give Yelena’s wrist a soft pat. “There you go.”
Lydia helped him clean up afterward, and once everything was clean and cleared away back in its proper spot, Anatoly couldn’t help but sink into the tattered sofa, his eyes fluttering shut. “Hehh’TSCHHH’uhhh! HESHHooo! Hehh’RSSHH’uhh!” He blew his nose and, feeling a hand on his forehead, opened his watery eyes to find Yelena frowning at him. “It’s just a bad cold. Snf! I’ve seen enough patients with it to–to know. Hhh’TSCHOO!”
Yelena narrowed her eyes. “And I’ve had enough colds in my day to know that you must feel completely miserable. I’ll get you some soup and tea.”
“Mind your hand!” Lowering the handkerchief slightly, Anatoly called hoarsely at her retreating back.
She waved her injured hand dismissively. “Ahh, pff!”
“At least mind it for my sake, so I don’t have to do those stitches again!”
In response, Yelena set to preparing the tea with more vigor and clashing of cookery than was strictly necessary. Anatoly rolled his eyes, ignoring the way doing so made him slightly dizzy.
Lydia laughed softly and took a seat next to him, infinitely more at ease now that she was at home and with everything sorted. “She won’t listen.”
“Perhaps I should start charging her by the stitch, then. Ahhh’KSSSHHH’uhhh!” Anatoly kept his eyes shut for a moment, palm lingering at his throat as he waited for the soreness to recede a bit. He was infinitely grateful that Yelena hadn’t listened to his protestations of wellness, for he truly, truly wasn’t well.
“You shouldn’t work tomorrow.”
“And if I don’t?” Anatoly asked, a bit more snappishly than intended. He softened. “People don’t stop getting sick just because I’m sick.”
“Still…” Lydia said, worrying at her lip. “Ask Doctor Rosenbaum to help you. Just for a day while you rest.”
“And steal him from the next town over?” Anatoly shook his head. “The two of us are stretched thin as it is, I don’t need to make any more trouble for him.”
The house was silent for a moment, save the whistling kettle and Yelena’s lowly hummed accompaniment. If Anatoly had been concerned with anything but stemming the flow of his nose before it dripped onto the floor, he might have seen the glint in Lydia’s eye as she steeled herself to suggest:
“I could help you?”
Anatoly kept himself from laughing only because he knew what it took for Lydia to even make such a suggestion. “Lydia,” he said firmly, but not unkindly, “you have to go to school. Aren’t there exams you should be revising for?”
“I’ll pass all of them anyway,” she said lowly, shyly, cheeks coloring at her rare display of confidence. “You know I will.”
And Anatoly did know, not least of all because he had been helping her study since the month he’d arrived in the village and she had started secondary school. Her marks had been increasing steadily, ever since Anatoly had realized he needed to imbue her less with formulas and his own knowledge of anatomy, and more with the idea that she would and could succeed.
She watched him now, eyes bright, and Anatoly got the feeling that this moment could demolish whatever building blocks he’d given her in the past. Still, he could not in good conscience ask that a fourteen-year-old girl neglect her studies because her doctor neighbor had the sniffles, and so he was at an impasse. It would have been the perfect time for a sneezing fit, to buy himself more time to deliberate, but of course, his body was unobliging.
Anatoly let out a careful sigh, managing only to cough once. “I’ll let you help if and only if I am so sick I physically cannot do it myself, alright?”
“Alright,” Lydia said with a smile as her mother returned, carrying tea. “I hope you are, then.” Lydia’s eyes widened, and she almost shot out of her seat. “Wait! I didn’t mean—”
Anatoly took the tea graciously and sipped at it with a chuckle. “It’s no worry, Lydia. I know what you meant.”
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housemates with karasuno
okay this is so fucking long because i love karasuno so much i’d get up to a million antics with them
how you ended up living with them:
you were probably friends with the entire volleyball team in high school since you were one of the three (cute) managers so when they all suggested living together you were like ‘sure why not? how bad could it be?’
honestly this is so unrealistic but we’re enjoying ourselves aren’t we?
since there are so many of you in one single house there are probably like 3 to 4 people in a single room
the original room arrangement was that the first-years and second-years would be in separate rooms but ennoshita was like ‘no way are you putting me in the same room as noya and tanaka i will die’
so you, ennoshita, yamaguchi, and tsukishima are all in another room (the second-most peaceful room in the house)
daichi, sugawara, and asahi are all together in another room because they’re pretty tight
and hinata, kageyama, along with tanaka and noya share twin bunk beds in the fourth room
now let’s get into living with this chaotic bunch:
daichi is undoubtedly the head of household. at first he didn’t want to have to manage that on top of everything else but one night he was making a chart for chores (along with small stickers of everyone’s faces) and finally accepted that he was in charge of the house
he’s def the type to manipulate the chore chart just a little bit. if tanaka or noya managed to piss him off, daichi will just slide their face under ‘dish duty’ and they’re none the wiser
at first he feels terrible but then tanaka and noya accidentally break a window and daichi just thinks that maybe authoritarianism isn’t so bad after all
jk guys authoritarianism is bad down with the government
you, on the other hand, know very well what daichi is doing but instead of tattling you just appeal to his good side and before you know it, you haven’t done any chores for an entire year
ASAHI IS THE TYPE OF HOUSEMATE TO BRING YOU UP A PLATE OF SLICED FRUIT WITHOUT EVEN ASKING AHHH
when the clock hits four, its cut fruit time and there are different fruits for every day and asahi just brings up plates of nice cut fruit for everyone
you kind of wonder if asahi ever gets tired of slicing fruit for EVERYONE IN THE HOUSE until you see him split open a pineapple with his bare hands
also he has such a huge closet but if you want a snazzy outfit all you have to do is knock on his shared room and he’ll whip one up for you
okay you guys are probably thinking that sugawara is the mom of the household but unfortunately he is a gemini and therefore even satan fears him
suga’s the one who cooks for everyone but when he’s in the kitchen you had better stay away because he gets intTENSE. he probably uses this big ass knife
potholders? suga doesn’t know her. he uses his bare hands to get trays and stuff out of the oven. just watching him cook stresses you out so nobody watches him cook
but his cuisine is exquisite nobody has complaints
i feel like their room probably has a fuck ton of snacks with asahi’s fruit-cutting, suga’s cooking skills and i bet daichi has a stash of snacks that he keeps from noya and tanaka (it’s under his mattress, that’s why his back hurts)
you, ennoshita, tsukishima, and yamaguchi have by far the cleanest room though (just slightly cleaner than the third-years’ room because they have snack wrappers) and your roommates are all workaholics
your room is pretty much ‘bookshelves and studyblr aesthetic’ except for ennoshita’s CPR doll that stays in a corner of the room looking creepy and out of place but you don’t have a closet to put it in
yamaguchi swears that it’s haunted because it changes positions every time he wakes up in the morning and he keeps trying to convince his roommates about it
little does he know tsukki and ennoshita like to move the CPR doll around to scare him because they’re like that
tbh you are not a fan of the CPR doll either but that doesn’t mean you won’t play with it by dressing it up
these three are such workaholics that there’s literally only one person asleep there at a time and you like studying there because of the Intense Productive Energy
they even have their own espresso machine and a minifridge full of Red Bull
tsukki is the best at waking you up he’ll literally grip your shoulders and shake you or spray you with water
you can tell he enjoys it and you hate it so much but it does get your papers going
the one thing about this group is that they forget this little thing called ‘self-care’ because they work all the time (well except for yamaguchi who knows how to put on a sheet mask once in a while)
that means you’ll sometimes be knocking on their door with some of asahi’s Sliced Fruit or some instant ramen you whipped up yourself
ennoshita also has a habit of passing out in random places so it takes you and yamaguchi to haul him up to his bed
you also use this opportunity to tuck in his CPR doll next to him in bed because why not?
the chaotic, noisy members of the household are all relegated to one room for the good of the entire house and its downstairs where the walls are thick
these guys are the bunk-bed sharing kind of people but they kind of just switch beds depending on how they feel like it
tanaka: hey dude, is it ok if i top for tonight?
noya: oh yeah sure! no problem!
you: 👁👄👁
suga: they’re talking about bunk beds
hinata and kageyama like to play video games during their breaks but they only have one game and that’s Naruto Shippuden: Ultimate Ninja Storm 3
i have an obsession with naruto don’t @ me
that’s because they bought a playstation on craigslist and it came with one game and that was it
you like to play with them when you’re taking a break and kageyama’s always the one who loses and he gets so frustrated with himself that you let him win at times just so he feels good
hinata always uses hinata when he plays but he’s also the type to elbow kageyama or purposely swerve a hand in your face when he’s playing
even though sugamama is in charge of the kitchen, noya and hinata do like to experiment with cooking from time to time and if daichi is in a good mood he’ll indulge them
they’ll even rope you in on their shenanigans and pretty soon you’re making a casserole out of pepperoni and cheetos just in time for sugawara to come in and see what happened to his kitchen
it usually ends with all of you guys just ordering pizza and you having to clean the kitchen with noya and hinata
house incident: ennoshita’s CPR doll that ACTUALLY MIGHT be haunted
okay i know that i already wrote about ennoshita’s cpr doll being not haunted and that tsukki and ennoshita just like to mess with it but IMAGINE IT ACTUALLY BEING HAUNTED
it starts out with yamaguchi getting mad at tsukki or ennoshita for putting the cpr doll in his bed while he was asleep and they were both like ‘no seriously we didn’t do it’
and you could vouch for them because you were the last one to fall asleep in your room and the CPR doll was way in ennoshita’s side of the room (yamaguchi believes you cause you’re the only person he trusts in the room)
you and yamaguchi begin to think that something strange is going on and like ‘is it just me or are those dead, plastic eyes somehow following my every move?’
it gets to the point that you have to turn the plastic doll around the face the wall when you’re studying
and then, you begin to notice that the doll is nearer to your bed when you wake up in the morning and again, neither tsukishima nor ennoshita touched it
because of this you now stay over at daichi, asahi, and sugawara’s room because you’re so creeped out by the doll and also because they have snacks
and then an Incident happens wherein noya and tanaka, who are both doing a first-aid class, decide to secretly use the doll while no one is around at home
although noya and tanaka trying to practice cpr by themselves is hilarious
just visualize tanaka trying to administer cpr while dueting ‘staying alive’ with noya
they both take a break and turn away from the doll for one second only to see it standing upright when they turn right back
tanaka: that doll just moved on its own, right?
noya: yeah, pretty much
that’s when you and yamaguchi come home and see the cpr doll with tanaka and noya looking very afraid
you: the doll’s haunted isn’t it?
yamaguchi: I KNEW IT !!
daichi comes home to the four of you trying to dispose of the doll by fitting it into a box and gets mad at everyone because you can’t just do that to ennoshita’s stuff
but then he sees all of you looking clearly in distress and decides to call for a house meeting about ennoshita’s haunted doll
asahi brings sliced fruit
tsukishima and kageyama very firmly talk about how it’s not possible which is weird because it’s something they agree on for once
daichi: well, where did you get this doll, ennoshita? ennoshita: i got it for cheap at an old antique store. the owner was super intent to get rid of it so i bought it
you, tanaka, yamaguchi, and noya: 👁👄👁
daichi: even i don’t believe in ghosts but damn ennoshita what were you thinking?
and then sugawara who has been eerily quiet this entire time brings out a ouija board and goes ‘LET’S EXORCISE THIS BITCH’
a few minutes later you all are set up in the living room with candles, the ouija board, and the cpr doll
tsukishima’s just there to livestream everything (STORYTIME: my dumb housemates think this doll is haunted)
you, sugawara, and hinata are in charge of the seance (hinata ironically drew the shortest straw and was forced to participate)
sugawara: spirit of the cpr doll, what is your name?
the triangle piece on the board starts moving, you are looking at your friends in shock, asahi has fainted. the triangle piece stops at the word ‘yes’
you: oh my god this ghost is an idiot
daichi: all in favor of getting rid of this doll?
everyone except ennoshita raises their hands
sugawara is already on the phone with the current owners of the warren museum
you: why do you have their number memorized?
sugawara: ,,, reasons
the cpr doll is picked up the next day. kageyama pokes at the doll and goes ‘you’re just a doll, cpr doll. you can’t do anything’. asahi feels sorry that it’s gonna be displayed naked in the museum and gives the doll a little fedora hat
also ennoshita is compensated for the doll and now has enough money to buy AN ACTUAL, LEGIT CPR DOLL from AN ACTUAL, LEGIT CPR DOLL FACTORY
you and yamaguchi still hate it
taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart @akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan @therainroguefanfiction @atetiffdoesart @stephdaninja @oikaw-ugh @charliefredb @dramaqueenweeb1469 @tremblinghearts @applepienation @doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! au#haikyuu!! headcanons#hq!! headcanons#hq headcanons#haikyuu!! scenarios#hq!! scenarios#hq scenarios#haikyuu!! crack#hq!! crack#hq crack#haikyuu!! housemates au#hq!! housemates au#hq housemates au#karasuno#karasuno scenarios#karasuno headcanons#hinata shouyo#kageyama tobio#yamaguchi tadashi#tsukishima kei#ennoshita chikara#tanaka ryuunosuke#nishinoya yuu#daichi sawamura#sugawara koushi#asahi azumane
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this isn't my best work, but it's still pretty good for something i wrote when i was 15 after having a half a year of writer's block. anyways, ahem, presenting the fic in which severus says fuck it after the lake incident and just doesn't go back to hogwarts but potentially gets dragged into the war anyway despite living in the muggle world for like,, three years, part 1 (aka the only chapter i wrote bc my writer's block came back oops):
It starts simply, like most things do. It starts with a few words, tossed out without care and full of childish conviction. It escalates to brawls in the corridors and duels in the dungeons--if you could even call them that when it was four-on-one and most encounters left him reeling. It continues until he's twitchy and hypervigilant and awkward, always on the lookout for an attack, ready to bite before anyone could bite him.
It ends much the same. The events leading up to this are a production fit for the theatre, if the crowd is anything to by, but the ending itself is quite simple. Gasping for air near the shore of the Black Lake and battling a headache that hurts almost as much as the sharp press of his heart at the thought of what he'd done to Lily, he simply gives up. He picks himself up, tells himself this is the end of it and goes about collecting his belongings.
His wand comes to his hand easily enough with a mumbled Accio. His bag does, as well. Its contents, on the other hand, have to be collected by hand. His textbooks and ink are strewn beneath the tree, mostly, but the loose parchment and his quill are lost to the wind. He snatches up what he can find before someone gets it into their head to come further humiliate him and turns to head back into into the castle. Only to be smacked in the face by a bound sheaf of parchment and a quill. It's suspicious, and he's tempted to burn it then and there. It's his, but they were definitely scattered about the grounds two seconds ago. He doesn't burn it. He hesitates, puts it in his bag and returns to the castle, intent on making his way to Gryffindor Tower.
The apology doesn't go well. Lily isn't interested, refuses to hear it. He returns to the Slytherin dorms, drops into his bed and thanks Merlin that they'll be going home soon. Cokeworth is God-awful, but at least there's only one man trying to kill him there and only one woman for him to disappoint.
So, he waits it out. Spends his final classes looking over his shoulder and staring blankly at his parchment every time he remembers that they tried to kill him and they humiliated him and they got away with both. He shrinks into himself, avoiding the corridors at all costs, skipping meals to avoid being in the Great Hall and spends as much time as possible in the Library and the dusty old Potions Lab on the Fourth Floor that no one knows about, losing himself in research so he doesn't have to interact with his Housemates. He sits alone at the Leaving Feast, refuses to touch his plate until Evan Rosier falls into the seat next to him and bothers him into eating. The Headmaster dismisses them, says that they'll see each other come September and lets them filter out onto the train.
He ends up sharing a compartment with Mulciber, Avery and Rosier even though he's barely spoken to any of them since the incident. Evan needles him about everything and nothing the whole way to King's Cross, and when they get there, Evan claps him on shoulder and that's goodbye.
He gathers up his things, goes to meet his mother so they can Apparate home and not waste what little money they have on transport. Eileen's cheeks are sunken, her arms rail thin, her dress loose-fitting. He'd still rather see her than anyone even loosely affiliated with Hogwarts. She nods at him, he nods back. They go home.
He spends his summer making himself useful. He does odd jobs for the neighbours, is grudgingly polite to his father, takes care of his mother. By the time term rolls around, people are talking about that Snape boy. Strange, and quiet, too, but he works well, doesn't he? September first dawns bright and early, and Severus doesn't go back to Hogwarts.
He studies at home instead, nose buried in his mum's old books. He plants the few ingredients he has hidden away in his trunk at the back of the house and uses what grows to brew medicines and weedkillers and anything he can think of after experimenting a bit. Mr. and Mrs. Smith down the street both swear up and down he's working magic on their little garden and their old bones.
He feeds cats, delivers packages for the grocer, takes tables and nightstands home to cast Reparo on. Someone tells the pub owner about him, and the next thing he knows, he's frying chips and learning how to mix drinks even though the most complicated thing anyone ever orders is a pint of the beer that they have on tap.
It's not a bad existence. Eventually, slowly, his mother starts coming back to herself. She takes over the brewing when he isn't around. Annotates his annotations and even makes a trip to Diagon Alley for more ingredients to add to their garden when Severus forgets to write Narcissa to ask her to send a few more.
Severus is old enough now to drag his father home from the pub behind him when he's done working. One evening, they come home and Tobias nearly trips over the end table that Severus is meant to be fixing for Mr. Williams three houses up. Severus works his wand out of his boot and goes to cast a spell, but Tobias grumbles and bats his hand away. Drunk as he is, he still digs out his toolbox and gets to work. The job turns out almost decent.
By December, Severus is at the pub, feeding cats on his break and making deliveries when he has the time. Eileen is brewing and Tobias is doing carpenter's work fixing and building wardrobes, cupboards, cabinets and everything else. It keeps him busy enough that some days he doesn't see a drink at all. It's not much, but there's a little food on the table at the end of each day, and Severus thinks that he's probably better off than he would have been at Hogwarts.
Sometime around Christmas, his mother talks him into getting a Muggle education and writing his NEWTs. He writes the O-Levels for his Muggle exams in January. They're a breeze, given how well-read he is. He sees Petunia at the store shortly after, and she sneers vaguely in his direction. He hears her condescending voice in the back of his head and decides to sit the A-Levels in May out of spite.
His birthday comes and goes, the NEWTs come right after and he aces each and every one of the written exams. The practicals are spread out across the following weeks, and he's leaving the Ministry after his last exam to find that the date coincides with that of a field trip for the Sixth Years at Hogwarts.
He watches them a little, tearing his gaze away after he catches sight of a tanned arm draped over a shoulder touched by a red braid. The students mill near the doors for a while and so, Severus looks around for escape routes, eyes skipping hurriedly from door to door until they rest on a Ravenclaw who'd also taken the January NEWTs. All kinds of people had been there, adults who hadn't passed when they were younger and needed to retake the exams to get jobs, teenagers who had family fortunes waiting for them whose parents wanted them to at least look like they were competent, and overachievers--like Severus assumed the Ravenclaw was--who wanted to know where they stood before the actual exam. He jerks his chin toward another door, this one proclaiming to lead to the "Apparition Division". Severus nods once at him and makes his way toward it.
There's a one-day course for Apparition, apparently. The woman at the receptionist desk doesn't even bother looking at him, just points him in the direction of the Training Room with her nail file. He stays for nearly the rest of the day, until they're finally done. He gets his license and is quietly pleased to see that the building is nearly devoid of life when he leaves. He goes home.
May and June come around and bring with them the A-Levels. He finds them only marginally more challenging than his O-Levels and returns to his routine. It's a nice routine, which takes him all the way through to July of the next year when Lily starts coming in with Black and Potter and Pettigrew and Lupin. The first time it happens, he leaves the counter so fast that the patron he'd just given a glass of water to is convinced he teleported. He's already taken his regular break to go feed Mrs. Jones' cats, so he steps into the kitchen and tells Jimmy he's taking a smoke break. Jimmy snorts and reminds him that he doesn't smoke.
He fidgets, trying to think up a way to avoid going back out, when the ruckus they're making makes Jimmy look through the little window and see the lot of them crowded around a little table. He gets a peculiar look on face for a bit, before he asks Severus if they have something to do with why he doesn't go to his fancy school anymore. He doesn't need an answer, just tells him to keep an eye on the food and steps out to man the counter. Severus stays late, frying chips and washing dishes until the early hours of the morning when Jimmy pats him on the back and kicks him out.
It keeps up until September comes around, and by then, Severus has taken so many smoke breaks that he's actually started smoking. He keeps smoking long after they're gone.
He goes back to his routine until it's broken again by a letter that comes by owl. It's a short letter, coming from a Potions Master whose apprentice had been overseeing the exams. It claims that his work was the best either of them had seen in years and after asking around, they'd found that he was unbound to any Master and was highly recommended by the Malfoys. It ends with an offer. Severus would think himself foolish not to accept, so, he does. After that, two days a week are dedicated to Flooing to Master Diogene's laboratory to fulfil the requirements of his apprenticeship. It finds its own little nook in his routine and so he continues until June of 1980.
He's preparing to go to the pub when there's a knock at the door. It's not so uncommon anymore, so he thinks nothing of it, only that he hopes it doesn't take too long. His shift starts in half an hour. He pushes his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, where they perpetually are these days, and decides he'll roll them up properly later. He opens the door.
"Good afternoon," a very pregnant Lily says, and standing next to her is the Ravenclaw from the Ministry, back straight, arms clasped behind his back, his entire being alert.
"Good afternoon," he replies, awkward. After a long moment of silence, he asks, "Can I help you?"
"Depends on whether or not you let us in," she says.
Wordlessly, he steps aside, sliding the three pairs of shoes nearer to the wall in order to let them pass. "Do you want tea?"
"No," she says, at the exact same time her Auror friend says, "Thank you."
He gestures them into the little kitchen, where they sit at the little table where he and his mother and his father take their meals. He tugs his wand out of his boot, flicks it so that the cauldron bubbling away on the stove scoots aside but doesn't spill. The burner beneath lights on its own. He puts the kettle, already full, on to boil. "So," he begins, absentmindedly rolling up his sleeves. "Is there something you need from me?"
Lily smiles, strained. "Can't I just visit an old friend?"
"Sure," he says, quietly. "You made it very clear that you would prefer if we weren't, though."
Her expression twists. "And with good reason," she grits.
He says nothing. The kettle whistles. He searches for the boxes of tea, sets about mixing two cups of mint. He puts them both on a tray with milk and sugar, as well as the small container of honey kept for special occasions. He puts it on the table.
"I'm sorry."
She doesn't say anything, just watches him with bright, green eyes aflame with old anger. She picks up one of the teacups and starts doctoring it to her liking. Her Auror friend follows suit. It really is obvious, Severus thinks, watching the man scan the room from top to bottom, corner to corner. He sighs. "Why are you here, Lily?"
She glares at her tea. The Auror shifts uncomfortably. Severus sighs again. "You know, when people visit old friends, they usually don't bring Aurors with them."
"Trainee, actually. This is my last year." He grins sheepishly. "That obvious?"
Severus nods.
He leans over the table, stretches out a hand. His right, Severus notices. He leans over and shakes with his left.
"Kingsley Shacklebolt," the Auror trainee introduces himself.
"Severus Snape, but you already knew that."
"Ah, yes. Of course."
Lily continues to glare at her tea. Shacklebolt fidgets. Severus stares, adjusts the heat on the burner below the cauldron. Silence prevails. The door creaks open, just then, and Eileen comes in, stirring rod in hand. "You'll be late if--oh," she says, noticing their guests. "Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon," the other three respond with varying degrees of enthusiasm.
"Well, if it isn't Lily Evans. It's been quite a while, hasn't it? You look well," Eileen says, nudging her son out of the way so she can poke at the mixture in the cauldron.
"You as well," Lily mumbles. "And it's, ah, it's Potter now, actually. Lily Evans Potter."
"Ah, I see. My mistake. Congratulations are in order, then, Mrs. Potter."
"Congratulations," Severus echoes.
"And you're a Shacklebolt, yes?" Eileen continues, her hands methodically sprinkling ground lavender into the cauldron. "Elodie's son, I should think. You resemble her quite a bit."
"Yes, ma'am," the trainee replies. "Grandmother says I'm nearly a carbon copy."
Eileen hums, lowers the heat under the cauldron. She takes out the stirring rod, examining the clinging lavender paste before wiping it off and placing it on the counter. "I suppose I'll leave you it, though Doris just passed, and she said that Jimmy has a full house, so, do try to hurry. It's already nearly four."
"Yes, Mam."
She leaves, and once more, silence settles over the small kitchen. Severus looks at the clock on the wall, sees that it does, indeed, say that it's minutes to four. Eleven minutes, to be exact, and it's a ten minute walk to the pub. He starts gathering the tea things, has just taken Shacklebolt's empty teacup when Lily clears her throat.
"Are you a Death Eater?" she asks.
"No," Severus tells her, and takes her teacup. Ten minutes to four.
"Prove it," she says, glaring.
Severus sets down the tray and leans across the table, arms outstretched, palms up, forearms exposed. The skin on either arm is pale, smooth and utterly unmarked, save and except for the scars one is bound to get when their preferred work involves knives and hot cauldrons.
"You keep regular contact with Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy, as well as Regulus Black and Evan Rosier, all of whom are suspected Death Eaters. Why?"
Severus' eyes narrow. "Lucius is sponsoring my Potions Mastery. Narcissa, for whatever reason, enjoys my conversation. Regulus and Evan both seem to think that I'll drop dead if I don't speak to them at least once a week and I haven't been able to disabuse them of the notion--though, not for lack of trying."
"So, you aren't planning to become a Death Eater?" Seven minutes to four.
"I'm not," Severus says, biting down on something rising in his chest. He returns the tea things to their proper places, washes the cups and sets them to dry. When he looks at them again, Lily's glare has softened into an unwavering stare.
"Are you certain?" she asks, and Severus grits his teeth.
"Oh, no, not at all. I only left the Wizarding World to live in a Muggle neighbourhood with my Muggle father, work for a Muggle and feed old ladies' cats and fix their husbands' cabinets because I thought it would make it easier for me when I decided I wanted to murder them all. Obviously," he snaps, throat closing around the words as soon they've been forced out of his mouth. His jaw clamps shut. Three minutes to four.
"You're being an a—" she starts, but then she bites her tongue. "Why... why did you leave?"
He stands silent for a moment. "Reasons I don't believe we have time to discuss. It appears that I'm late for work, I'm afraid." The clock reads three fifty-nine. By the time, he reaches the front door, it will be four o' clock. He starts walking.
"But–" Lily begins, standing.
He gestures them onto the porch while he shoves his feet into his boots. "Terribly sorry to leave in a hurry like this, but duty calls. Things to do, people to see. Enjoy your evening, Mrs. Potter. Auror Trainee Shacklebolt." Four o' clock.
"Really–"
"Until next time, Mr. Snape," Shacklebolt interjects, and with a stiff nod, he and Lily make their way towards the Apparition Point they'd used and Severus is walking down the street. He exhales, slowly, carefully at the quiet, telltale crack of Disapparition off in the distance. He picks up the pace and hopes that'll be the end of it. He knows it won't, though. Until next time, Shacklebolt said.
It isn't the end, of course. It never is. There's a knock at the door just before he's ready to leave the next afternoon, and he contemplates just not answering the door and staying at home for the foreseeable future. There's enough food to last at least a week, and he could always just tell Mrs. Havisham that he wasn't feeling well. The news would make it around the town and back within the day. The knock sounds again. He sighs and gets up to go answer it. "Can I help you?"
"Only if you want to. May I come in?" Shacklebolt asks.
Against his better judgement, Severus lets him in.
#severus snape#snapedom#pro snape#fic#i didn't expect anyone to take me seriosuly but someone did and goddamn it i'll be damned if i don't give them something to read#anyways have fun#probably a bit ooc#but that's what makes aus fun amirite hehe#alright that's enough from me
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an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 2
IwaOi this time around. My favorite ship. The world’s favorite ship...there’s so many
Undecipherable, by ioo (4k. G. canonverse)
I’m pretty sure the author meant ‘indecipherable’, nevertheless! I am appalled that this work doesnt have more hits. Y'all are sleeping on it and that's not okay.
The sound of the door slamming against the wall has Hajime startling back to the present. He looks at the source of the disturbance and finds himself face to face with Oikawa, red in the face with breathlessness and a leather-bound notebook tightly clutched in both of this hands. When he spots Hajime, he makes a beeline for the bench and slaps it down right next to him.
"Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."
primavera, by tothemoon (8k. T. canonverse)
All of tothemoon’s works read so beautifully
They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom.
Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run), by ricekrispyjoints (27k. M. canon-divergence)
I've read this work so many times. Like, so many times and I’ve never tired from it. Gorgeous. The shift from friendship to romance felt so natural, love it.
"I'm not healing like I should be."
In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.
Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.
Priorities, by weirdmilk (2k. T. canonverse)
Kissy, kissy.
‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.
Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.
‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’
Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.
Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.
Before Midnight, by fathomfive (2k. G. canonverse)
Reads like a fairytale.
The sky turns, the seasons turn over, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa track the movements of the stars. Nothing is ever quite constant, but it's close enough.
The grass is stiff with frost. They walk in silence past the raked-over vegetable garden and up the back hill, footsteps crackling, and stand side-by-side at the top of an incline that used to seem much bigger. Iwaizumi glances over but Oikawa’s already gone, eyes searching the sky with no hint of hurry, just a kind of reverent patience.
make a bet, keep a promise, by raewrites (13k. M. canonverse)
Bet still on.
Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.
Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.
It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.
our hearts still beat the same, by knightswatch
two birds, by thelittlebirdthattoldyou (5k. T. canonverse)
Of heartbreaking letters and paper crane wishes.
Five months into the term, two months after he’s stopped replying to Oikawa’s texts, the first package arrives. A small square box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and Hajime almost trips over it on the way to his dorm.
There’s a letter attached.
Oikawa doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to put his feelings down on paper before Iwaizumi believes them.
Through My Eyes, by anchoringsouls (2k. G. canonverse)
Okay! Okay, we were doing great with the soft, happy love up until the last part! That's great, just great!
“I think if you ever saw yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with yourself the same way the way I did with you.”
in time it could be ours, by deusreks (3k. T. canonverse)
Anyone wanna go back in time and make a time capsule with me only to dig it up years later and we’re actually in love?
Set post Seijou's match with Karasuno. There's a moderate amount of rolling in the dirt. No pajamas were hurt in the writing of this fic.
There, in their joint backyard, was Oikawa Tooru, clad in his silly luminescent space pajamas, digging a hole near a cherry tree.
“What the hell, Oikawa.”
Tooru stubbornly continued digging. He looked pitiful in that moment; everything that was grand about him in daylight was meaningless in the darkness. He was only a boy with a shovel whose broken heart mirrored Hajime’s own.
we can do better than that, by spaceburgers (16k. M. canonverse)
Of course, of course, the IwaOi road trip fic. AnD thErE wAs ONly OnE bED!
Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.
They Say it Rains Diamonds on Jupiter, by exsao (35k. T. canonverse)
I don't know, just gorgeous. Hajime’s so in love.
"You're in love with him."
Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.
"Yeah," he says instead.
He's never been good at lying, anyway.
Midnight boys/sunset town, by carafin (10k words. T. Housemates AU):
The author says they played off of the fact that Oikawa oftentimes forgoes his sleep in order to work, and wrote it so that he doesn't sleep at all. This was so cute, kinda sad, mostly not. Love how Iwaizumi just goes along with whatever crazy stilch Oikawa is on.
In which Iwaizumi Hajime grows a few chili plants, participates in an eating contest, breaks into a park, and falls in love with a man who doesn't ever sleep - not exactly in that order.
5 Reasons Why Iwaizumi Hajime's Flatmate Is A Complete Weirdo (An Incomplete List)
1. He's obsessed with that stupid bucket list of his.
2. He's the proud owner of seven truly ugly, criminally hideous movie posters with aliens on them, which he insists on pasting all over the damn living room.
3. He's always stealing Hajime's sweatshirts.
4. Sometimes, he wakes Hajime up for breakfast. At 5AM. On Saturday mornings.
5. He literally never, ever sleeps.
The Best I Ever Had, by FindingSchmomo (62k words. T. Canon-divergent):
You’ve read it, your mum’s read it, your dog has probably read it (you really need to take facial recognition for him off your phone, he’s got some weird nighttime habits). So basically this fic caused me physical pain and then pumped me full of morphine and now I’m good! Beautiful read, hated Oikawa for a while, Iwaizumi is the only boy I would ever feel safe alone with.
A story of separation and time lost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lose contact, and life goes on. Now, a decade later and back in Japan, Oikawa wonders if he can pick the pieces back together, despite knowing Iwaizumi has moved on. A story of their past, present and future, pieced together by shaky hands.
darlin', your head's not on right, by aruariandance (13k words. T. canonverse)
Again, I’m pretty sure anybody who's anybody has read this fic and for good reason! Super sweet realizing you're in love fic. Makes me reconsider wanting to get married.
'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”
Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.
“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."
or,
Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.
the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle, by kittebasu (66k. T. canon divergent)
Is this one of the most famous Iwaoi fic? I don’t know. Looks like it, I know it's my personal favorite. Where Oikawa studies bugs for a living and can’t seem to come to terms with his feelings. Very angsty, love that in a fic.
Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.
Terrarium, by sausaged (11k. T. Post-canon)
Honestly, I’m so surprised this fic doesnt have more hits! It’s so good! Made me ache! I love the memories and character growth shown through the growing of the terrarium, absolutely adore that kind of symbolism. So beautiful, give it some love because it's one of my absolute favorites.
He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).
At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?
Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?
A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.
Lips like sugar, by ohhotlamb (8k. T. canonverse)
Why did my childhood best friend never offer to help me practice kissing only for us to realize we were only interested in each other? I had a fake high school experience.
Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.
Falling Slowly, by bravely (commovente) (3k. T. canonverse)
So special, imagine loving one person, and one person only like this for the entirety of your life. This is getting too sappy, I want off of this ride.
over the years, some things change; but over the years, some things stay mostly the same.
(alternatively, mornings with oikawa and iwaizumi over the years).
No sleep in the city, by loveclouds (7k. T. canonverse)
Mass/volume = Iwaizumi, apparently. (Please. If anyone gets this absolutely horrific joke, lets elope).
Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.
Time, by surveycorpsjean (5k. E. canonverse)
Growing older together.
When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.
Everything With You, by Ellessey (14k. E. canonverse)
Came damn near to crying, you can just feel Iwaizumi’s pain. Fight scene was probably the most emotion evoking one I’ve read in a long while.
‘Hajime still loves Oikawa, but he understands now. Oikawa can't look at him and see someone he could potentially date.
And that makes it easier to not focus on the little things that used to drive him crazy—Oikawa's long legs, the way he's always hanging off of Hajime, how his whole face changes when he gets ready for a jump serve, and he looks like he could take on the entire world and win.
This new arrangement though, this living together situation, is presenting a new set of variables that must be adjusted to, and the nakedness is one of them.’
--
For years, being Oikawa’s best friend has worked out fine. Hajime is hopelessly in love with him, but it’s enough. Then Oikawa—who, by all accounts, has never been anything but determinedly, assuredly straight—gets a boyfriend. Or a boy friend-with-benefits. Hajime doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit about the definition.
What he knows is that remaining best friends is starting to seem a bit too painful (way too painful) to be considered a solid option.
The Best Best, by rikke (12k. T. canonverse/future fic)
Takeru is a whole mood. Don’t want kids, but I do want domesticity and this fic feeds me well.
“Congratulations, Iwa-chan! You’re a dad!” Iwaizumi hears as soon as the door opens. He’s dealt with Oikawa for all of his twenty-one years of age now, but this declaration is still sufficiently disturbing enough that he turns from his place on the couch and braces himself for whatever Oikawa has done this time.
Or the one where Iwaizumi and Oikawa babysit Takeru for a week.
cheek kisses, by ohhotlamb (G. 3k. Future fic)
Sooo cute!!
“Every time,” Hajime murmurs, “every time I see you again I remember how fuckin’ crazy I am about you.”
Routine, by snoqualmie (2k. T. canonverse)
Again, anyone wanna be my childhood best friend so we can put face masks on each other and fall in love? I died, truly.
Iwaizumi is fourteen years old, horny too often and angry all the time, and he’s just starting to notice that Tooru’s legs are really long, that his lips are kinda soft looking, and his fingers feel good pressed under his jaw.
Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, by sunsmasher (19k. G. canon divergence)
Be wary, I would give this fic an upper rating to probably Teen and the follow-up fic is Explicit. But, Oikawa on the Japanese national team is just a dream as is, but add in a rekindling friendship and an angsty make out sesh? Mwah, delizioso.
It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.
He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.
“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…”
It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm.
“I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru.
“Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.
Chasing Paper Suns, by carafin (10k. T. Future fic)
Again with the growing up and coming back together, this time with more angst than the last. Lovely, really lovely read.
Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.
Some days Hajime likes to think of himself as Oikawa’s counterpart—the two of them blending into a single devastating unit, the invincible setter and his unyielding ace, the bond between them unbreakable and true. Other days he feels like he is chasing after a rising sun, always running and running with his eyes fixed on the distance, trying to cross a chasm that stretches on without end, caught in an endless and exhausting pursuit.
the yellow room, by ohhotlamb (14k. T. canonverse/future fic)
Makki and Mattsun see bullshit and call you out on your bullshit.
“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”
Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”
“Yeah, so?”
“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”
Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”
the river runs, by tothemoon (11k. T. post-breakup)
My heart ACHES. Happy ending, promise! Just read it.
One year since their breakup, Oikawa Tooru starts a list of daily reminders, tips, and tricks called HOW TO FORGET ABOUT IWAIZUMI HAJIME, and he’s determined to make it stick.
—
This is a firsthand account of how to deal (and rather spectacularly, at that).
I sure hope that guy gets fired, by Xov (29k. T. canonverse/time loop au)
The only thing better than one confession, is MULTIPLE confessions. Oikawa trusts Iwaizumi unshakably, and that's beautiful.
It was the fourth time experiencing the exact same day that Iwaizumi Hajime reluctantly admitted to himself that something was very wrong.
my only friend was the man in the moon (until i met you), by ohhotlamb (7k. T. canonverse)
Just so innocent and sweet. Oikawa said ‘effort’.
In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.
Bet On It, by originalblue (13k. E. canonverse)
Tooru being nice for a week? That can only end one way… with a d*ck in Hajime’s mouth.
Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.
especially for tender ones like us, by viverella (17k. T. canonverse/post break-up)
Gods! See? See what I mean? How could I forget about a work as heart wrenchingly beautiful as this? Give it some love, actually, all of the love.
The worst part of it all, Tooru thinks to himself sometimes, is that even as they fought and kicked and screamed and tore each other to shreds, it was never that Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi any less. The worst part of it all, he thinks, is that loving Iwaizumi turned out to not be enough.
(OR: on finding the right person at the wrong time and learning how to pick up the pieces)
sunset town, by skiecas (33k. T. canon-divergent)
Another work that I just CANNOT understand why it doesn't have more hits. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I almost cried.
In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.
Two years down the road, reconciling his lifelong dream with his lifelong love proves to be the greatest challenge.
of odd numbers and intimate regrets, by bravely (commovente) (5k. T. post-canon/one night stand au)
Basically, Tooru and Hajime sleep together after not speaking for seven years and of course there’s feelings and angst and a belated chance at happiness and a life together.
Tooru’s spent the last seven years of his life in a carefully constructed schedule that is, he realises now, as much a habit as it was a way to forget about the person in front of him.
[or, the one night stand AU between two people more than friends but not quite lovers, measuring the passage of time in distance and long-gone memories, the expansion and contraction of the spaces between their fingers each time.]
cross my heart, open wide, by acchikocchi (7k. T. canonverse)
Super cute, super short. Realizing you're on a date with the wrong person one-shot.
For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy.
Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa.
Fernweh, by oikawashoyo (19k. G. canonverse/post time skip)
A mature(ish) Tooru?? I love works that show Tooru growing and living happily in Argentina and this one is just beautiful. (Plus! Plus, Skai did a piece on it as well and I love ALL their work so you can visualize everything). Love it.
Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.
In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.
i breathe easily in your arms, by orphan_account (2k. M. canonverse)
Soft, soft sex
When, after completing their high school graduation ceremony and heading home to enjoy their freedom, Oikawa had pulled him into his room and pressed his lips hesitantly against Iwaizumi’s own, it seemed an inevitable development in the unfolding narrative of their shared existence.
Despite years of having a bed to himself, the sensation of another body taking up space in his sheets, curling against his chest, creating warmth, feels natural in much the same way.
old and new, by Mysecretfanmoments (5k. T. canon divergence)
Finally a fic where they don't freak out on confession and it's sweet.
“You seem—sad.” Was that the right word? Others sprang to mind: desperate, lonely, anxious.
Tooru looked away. “Are you going to make me say it?”
“Say what?”
Tooru folded his arms, sighed. “I missed you, of course.”
Hajime swallowed.
“No need to look that way. I told you, I’m not one of your macho man buddies. I’m allowed to say stuff like that without being embarrassed—”
“You’re being ridiculous,” Hajime complained. “No need to be so defensive. I’ve missed you too.”
“Oh?” Tooru seemed to get a little of his own back, leaning forward on his elbows. “What about me did you miss?”
((Going to separate universities, Hajime and Tooru learn the true meaning of "distance makes the heart grow fonder"))
all i wanted was you, by spaceburgers (6k. E. college/fwb au)
This was more emotional than I thought a 6k friends with benefits fic could be, okay? Okay.
Wherein Hajime and Tooru are fuck buddies, Hajime curses his treacherous heart, and Tooru is bad with feelings.
we shine like diamonds, by whitemiists (26k. T. canon divergence)
I couldn't not include this work. It deals with internalized homophobia so well and I really resonate with it.
In all seriousness, I’m very lucky to live in a country where my sexuality is widely accepted and my heart goes out the LGBTQIA+ peoples who are forced to hide themselves. You are loved and your sexuality and gender-identity are not wrong and never will be.
Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.
"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."
Look For Him, by Leryline (18k. E. canonverse)
A collection of kisses. I love Hajime’s grandmother.
She laughs gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so heartbroken before, Hajime.”
Iwaizumi sighs and prods at the mackerel with a chopstick. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just different, you know? Like Oikawa pissed me off so much that now he’s not here I don’t know what to do with myself.”
“But you weren’t always annoyed with him, were you?” his grandmother smiles serenely and takes a sip of her tea. “My, my, Hajime, old women see everything. I saw you out there with my finches, when you were kissing Tooru’s nose. Your mother and father used to do the very same thing, you know, when they were younger. And look how long they’ve lasted. I hope you and Tooru last, Hajime. He’s very good for you.”
-
Oikawa has kissed Iwaizumi more times than either of them can count; it’s a constant thing, their lips never really leaving the other’s skin. There are, however, times when they’ve kissed that are burned into their memories. Eight of them, to be precise.
film reel life, arsenicjay (8k. T. canon divergence)
Such a unique and creative idea! Reading from the eyes of a camera, so beautiful!
The only person Iwaizumi is lying to is himself, when he insists: I am not in love with Oikawa Tooru.
how to let your planets align, by tether (tothemoon) (15k. T. end of the world au)
This is the only remotely non-happy ending fic I will be including on here, and it's purely because it's a gorgeous read. And yes, I ached. Your lips, my lips, apocalypse.
It is the last day on earth, December 2nd, 1985, when you realize you're in love with him.
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Alright, this combination spoke to me. I personally am struggling to pick between Lucifer, Satan, Beelzebub, and Diavolo as my favorite, I love all of them. So Poly with the four, but with the angst prompt of "I don't know how much longer I can endure this." in response to the tortures of not being able to choose. Up to interpretation, but this resonated with me.
I may have gotten a teensy tiny bit carried away with this one. But I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you enjoy it too!
Complicated
Diavolo / Lucifer / Satan / Beel x poly gn!MC
Words - 5330
Content warnings - some angst, lots of comfort and fluff, polyamorous relationship w/MC (no demon x demon relationships)
Prompt/Inspiration - anon request, “I don’t know how much longer I can endure this.”
Summary - You had managed to fall in love with not one, not two, but FOUR demons - and now you had to figure out what came next.
AO3
Complicated.
There really wasn’t another way to describe the current state of your life.
Beel was the first one to really take an interest in you. A genuine interest. You fell in love hard and fast. Perhaps it was the guilt over not being able to reveal what you knew about Belphegor’s situation, but you didn’t feel comfortable making your feelings for him known. It just seemed like something that would burden him, and you really didn’t want to risk losing the one friend you felt the most safe with while you were all alone in this new realm.
As your year progressed, the situation with Belphegor was finally resolved. But still, you hesitated to say anything. You knew how close he was to Belphie, and you convinced yourself that it would be best if you didn’t do anything that would come between them. It was obvious even to your own heart that you were just making excuses for yourself, too scared to take a step forward.
It was then you started growing closer to Lucifer. Your initial relationship with him had been...strained...to say the least. But after he realized the lengths you were willing to go to in order to help his brothers, he couldn’t help but fall in love with you. You had an inner strength that he honestly admired, though he would probably never admit that to you. And he enjoyed your company immensely, even if it was just having you nearby while he worked. Everything just seemed easier with you around, even Mammon’s shenanigans didn’t stress him out quite like they used to anymore. And you enjoyed his company as well - he was a source of stability for you in the chaos of the House of Lamentation. You would often take refuge in his study with him to recharge after a day of playing referee for the other overgrown children you had as housemates.
You had also managed to catch Satan’s eye, particularly after the whole dating sim fiasco with Levi. He liked the fact that you saw him as an individual - you never compared him to Lucifer, nor did you ever try to force the issue about them getting along. You just let Satan be...Satan. And he loved spending time with you reading together. It was like the two of you had your own private book club; he was always ready with a book recommendation for you.
It was Satan that had actually approached you first about the possibility of being in a relationship. You were surprised to hear that he had had such a strong interest in you, since he was always so reserved most of the time. Your initial reaction was of course to want to say yes, but the fact that Beel, and Lucifer especially, still held pieces of your heart made you feel incredibly guilty. You didn’t even have to ask to know that Lucifer was the absolute last person he’d ever be ok with sharing your affections with, even if you could get him to consider a polyamorous relationship.
So, you instead asked Satan for time. And he agreed to give you some space to think things over. You knew it was unfair to him to expect him to wait...but you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him “no”. You didn’t want to tell him “no”, after all. It was just the only option you felt was available to you.
Hoping to avoid Satan, and delay the inevitable, you started spending more time with Barbatos at the Demon Lord’s Castle. He taught you all about Devildom teas, and showed you how to bake some of Diavolo’s favorite treats. And Diavolo was more than happy to sample everything you tried your hand at preparing.
At some point, you had just started dropping by even when Barbatos was busy, just to chat with Diavolo and he was always glad to see you. He’d ask you about your life in the human realm, and you’d ask him about life in the Devildom. You probably learned more about Devildom history and lore from these conversations than you ever did in class at RAD; and you eagerly soaked it all up, hanging on Diavolo’s every word, absolutely enchanted with his storytelling ability and his life experiences that spanned several millennia.
Unlike with Beel, or even Lucifer, you didn’t realize when you had started falling for Diavolo, or Dia as he asked you to call him now. One day you had just tried to stop by, only to learn that he was still stuck at RAD, working with Lucifer. And you were absolutely devastated. It shocked you honestly at just how upset you had gotten over the loss of one simple visit. But as soon as you felt that familiar ache in your heart you knew exactly what was going on.
It was the same thing that you had been trying to avoid dealing with with Lucifer and his brothers. And you had somehow managed to get tangled up in again. Only this time things were far more complicated than family relationships between brothers. There was just no way you’d be allowed to enter into a relationship with Lord Diavolo, crown prince of the Devildom. That is if he was even interested in you in that way, which you highly doubted. Why would he be? You were just a simple human. You didn’t have any great experience or insight to offer, your education wasn’t even that exemplary. There was nothing about you that you felt entitled you to ever expect to be more than just friends with the Prince, and you were lucky he even humored your attempts at friendship.
You weren’t sure how, but you did manage to make it home that afternoon and crawled into bed. The tears just started on their own, and you were powerless to stop them. You had fought them off for far too long at this point, your body simply decided it had enough repressing those emotions and they all came pouring out. How much longer would you be able to endure this? You honestly didn’t think there was much more your heart could take, and you had no one to blame but yourself.
————
When Beel dropped by to remind you of dinner, you pretended to sleep and choked back your sobs until he went away. When Lucifer stopped by to check on you, you told him you were busy with schoolwork. And when Satan asked if you would like to come over to his room to read, you said you weren’t feeling well.
You thought you had managed to throw everyone off the scent. But when Diavolo popped in to apologize for not being there when you had tried to visit him earlier, everything quickly started to unravel.
You opened your bedroom door, completely shocked to see Dia and Lucifer on the other side. He had never come by before just to see you. Maybe a few times to check on Lucifer, but he usually would send Barbatos to run any important errands or to issue any invitations. Seeing him before you now, you immediately became aware of how awful you must have looked. Your eyes still red, your hair a mess, your uniform all disheveled since you hadn’t bothered to change when you got home.
As you stood there, opening and closing your mouth, struggling to string together a single coherent thought, the unthinkable happened - Beel walked by on his way to the kitchen, Satan not far behind him, and they both turned to look your way as they walked past your door. Your eyes flicked from Beel to Satan to Lucifer to Dia and you instinctively tried to slam your door shut to escape, but Lucifer caught it before you could.
“Is there something the matter?” he asked.
And of course, once again, your body decided it had just had enough of containing your repressed emotions and let your tears flow freely. This was it, you thought. You were going to be forced to face what you had been trying to avoid and that would just be the end of it all. Since you had refused to make a choice on your own, your choice was about to be made for you and you were going to end up with absolutely nothing as a result.
—————
It took awhile for you to calm down. Beel was sitting next to you on the edge of your bed with his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. Satan was standing nearby, holding a glass of water for you. You thanked him quietly for his thoughtfulness, and slowly sipped the chilled water, trying to buy yourself some time before you would start being forced to answer questions. And Lucifer and Dia were sitting across from you in two plush, wingback chairs that they had dragged away from the wall.
Everyone silently waiting for you.
“I’m...sorry…” you finally mumbled out. Beel gave you a reassuring squeeze, and Satan sat down beside you, taking your free hand. What you wouldn’t have given to be able to freeze time and just continue living in that perfect little moment surrounded by your favorite demons. But this was reality. And it was about time you faced that.
“It’s ok, but what are you apologizing for?” Satan asked.
“I umm…” your lip started trembling and you took a deep breath to try to calm yourself. There wasn’t any way to run from this, not this time.
“Take your time,” Beel reassured you, rubbing your arm.
“I’m sorry for avoiding you guys, especially you Satan. I know that wasn’t fair.” You felt him tense up beside you, no doubt expecting the reason for your avoidance to have been due to the fact you were planning on rejecting him. But he didn’t let go of your hand either, which only made you feel more guilty.
“It’s just...I can’t...I can’t choose…” you started to fidget nervously in your seat.
Lucifer seemed to have caught on quicker than the rest, “You mean to say you have feelings for more than one of us?” You meekly nodded, keeping your head down and your eyes glued to the floor. You had absolutely no desire to see the expressions on everyone’s faces as they exchanged looks with one another.
By this point Dia was getting a bit uncomfortable. This didn’t seem like the sort of conversation he should be part of - it was between Lucifer and his brothers after all. Even though he treasured you greatly, he had never made those feelings known to you nor had you ever expressed more than friendly interest in him, so it didn’t even occur to him that he might also be involved.
“I think I’ll go ahead and head out so…”
“No..!” you called out, looking Dia right in the eye, desperate for him to stay. You were surprised at your own reaction, but you couldn’t let him leave without knowing how you felt. The only thing that would hurt worse than him knowing your feelings and rejecting you, was if he thought you didn’t care for him at all and preferred someone else to him. And you couldn’t let that happen. You at least wanted a chance to keep him as your friend.
“I...ummm…you’re part of...this…” you mumbled out as your eyes fell to the ground again.
Diavolo was caught completely off guard with your confession, a deep blush spreading across his cheeks. As was Lucifer, who for the most part had been unaware that you had been spending enough time with the Prince to have any sort of relationship.
The silence that followed was killing you. It felt so oppressive. All you could do was wait for someone else to decide to speak. You couldn’t understand why Beel was still holding you so gently, or why Satan hadn’t moved from his spot next to you, your hand still wrapped in his. It was only a matter of time, you thought, before they’d all leave one by one and you’d find yourself alone. Part of you wanted them to hurry up and go so you could wallow in your own self pity, because the other part of you wanted them all to stay and tell you how much they all loved you, and you knew that was never going to happen.
“Can I speak with them? Alone?”
“Lord Diavolo…” Lucifer had started to object, but quickly stopped himself. He could use this time to talk to Satan and Beel, and it seemed they had a lot to talk about, “Alright, we will be in my study. Let us know when you’re finished.”
Satan, who had been staring at you this whole time, glared at Lucifer for assuming he’d just go along with his suggestion. But even he could see the tender look in his eyes as he gazed at you. There was no doubt Lucifer cared for you immensely, and seeing as this was for your benefit, Satan decided to comply, giving your hand one final squeeze before making his way out of your room.
Beel was having a more difficult time letting you go. He could practically feel how upset you were, and didn’t want to leave you alone. But after looking at Lucifer and Lord Diavolo, he finally accepted that it would be alright to leave you be for just a few moments. So, giving you one last hug and a kiss to the top of your head, he followed after Satan, with Lucifer not far behind.
Now alone with you, Dia dragged his chair closer to your bed so that he was sitting right in front of you, knees nearly touching. He took the now empty glass from you and set it down on the bedside table before taking both of your hands in his own.
“This has been bothering you for some time, hasn’t it?”
“...yeah…”
“Is this why you started spending so much time at the castle?”
“Sorta. I asked Barbatos to help me learn more about Devildom baking so I could avoid everyone else,” you gave a self deprecating laugh, “But then I started spending time with you….and...well then that started to be the reason I came…”
“So you really enjoyed our time together?”
“Of course!” you replied, raising your head to meet Diavolo’s gaze. He was much closer than you were expecting, and you flushed in embarrassment. He chuckled at your reaction. You were just so cute when you got flustered, he had a hard time resisting the urge to tease you, but he’d have to save that for later.
“Then why were you so upset?”
“Because...I...realized it didn’t matter.”
“Didn’t matter? Why would you think that?”
“Because...I’m...I'm just me. A simple human. And you’re you. And I should just be happy you even put up with me or talk to me at all. And even if I told you how I felt, it wouldn’t change how I feel about them and it just didn’t seem fair to have to choose, not after Satan already confessed to me. And I know Lucifer hasn’t said anything yet, but I can tell the way he looks at me. And there is no way Satan would ever be ok with me having any sort of relationship with Lucifer. And Beel is like my best friend and I’m sure if I say anything it would just upset Belphie and I don’t want to hurt him or make Beel think he has to choose…”
You snapped your mouth shut, realizing what you had just done. You had just unloaded everything, all the secrets and worries that had plagued your heart for the past several months, you had shared it all. To say you were mortified right now would be an understatement. You truly wished the ground would just swallow you up. You’d wish for death if you thought it would make a difference, but with your luck you’d just end up right back in the Devildom.
“So what I’m hearing is you’re too busy worrying about how everyone else feels to worry about yourself?”
You nodded your head, averting your eyes.
“What do you want then?”
“...it’s selfish…”
“Then be selfish. We’re demons after all.”
“Wha…?” you looked up at Dia again and he was gazing at you softly, a small smile on his lips as he encouraged you. Was it really ok for you to just ask for that ? Would they really not hate you if you did? It didn’t seem possible for you to get everything you’d want, how could you be that lucky? Surely if you said anything, then you’d lose everything, right?
At least that’s what your human conscience was telling you.
But here sat Lord Diavolo, future king of the Devildom, telling you that it was ok to ask for whatever you wanted, in a way that suggested you just might be granted it. And you wanted so badly to believe that that would be true.
“Go on, love, tell me what you want to do.”
————
Lucifer took a seat at his desk, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of himself. Finding out that you had a close relationship with Diavolo had come as a huge surprise. He had suspected that Satan had taken a liking to you, and he wasn’t at all surprised to discover that Beel was fond of you as well. But Diavolo? He wasn’t sure what to make of that.
“I assume you wanted to talk to us. So what is it?” asked Satan. He was agitated. He didn’t like the idea of leaving you alone with Lord Diavolo, especially not after it seemed that you may actually reciprocate his own feelings. But since, it appeared, he wasn’t the only one in your heart, he had to put your best interest first. And in this case that included letting you speak with Lord Diavolo while he discussed things with his brothers.
“Obviously.”
“Well?”
“First, I want to hear what your thoughts are on this matter. It’s clear that Satan has feelings for them, but what about you Beel? You’ve been quiet this whole time.”
Satan and Lucifer both turned to look at Beel who was seated in one of the large chairs near the fireplace. He raised his head to look at his brothers, before sighing and sitting back in his seat. He knew how much they cared for you. He had even started to realize when Lord Diavolo had begun to take an interest in you as even his casual interactions became more friendly. And he had decided that he was going to keep his own feelings to himself, not wanting to interfere in his brothers’ happiness. Never once had it occurred to him that he may have been causing you to suffer as a result.
“I love them,” he replied, a soft blush spreading across his cheeks. Of course he loved you. How could he not? You were just so bright in his eyes, and you brought so much hope with you. When you had told him that you wanted to help Lucifer and Belphie makeup when you had first arrived, he didn’t doubt you for a second. Even though he barely knew you at the time, he just had this feeling you’d make it happen. And the closer the two of you grew, the more deeply he trusted you, the stronger his love for you became, the more he wanted to protect you and your happiness.
“Then I suppose that makes three of us,” Lucifer said, clearing his throat.
“So? What are you suggesting we do?” asked Satan.
“That depends on them, of course. But it seems the primary reason for their struggle is because they feel unable to choose between us.”
“I already confessed directly, have you?” Satan asked, staring Lucifer down.
“I have not, and I don’t believe Beel has either,” Beel shook his head in agreement, “I think that’s irrelevant though based on the conversation we just had in their bedroom.”
Satan scoffed, walking to the other end of the room to put some distance between himself and Lucifer. Of course his brother was right. It didn’t really matter who said what first, or even who you fell in love with first. All that mattered was what you wanted. And right now, he wasn’t sure what you wanted at all.
He had to admit it did sting a little when he realized you weren’t interested in him alone. Particularly since Lucifer was one of the other parties involved. The idea of being in any sort of romantic relationship which also involved Lucifer just made his skin crawl. But despite that, the idea of losing you entirely was even more painful.
“I believe we need to decide what we would like to do if they express an interest in maintaining a relationship with all three...four...of us. Would either of you have any objections to that?”
Beel immediately shook his head. He didn’t have any issues with a polyamorous relationship, not if that’s what you wanted. He just wanted to see you happy, and he knew it would make him feel better if you were with someone else who loved you just as much as he did when he couldn’t be there. The only other concern that crossed his mind was how Belphie would react, but he knew that Belphie adored you too in his own way, and you enjoyed his company as well. So there really wasn’t any reason for Beel to say “no”.
“Satan?”
“No objections, so long as we get private time with them too.”
“Then it seems we are all agreed. We will wait to see what they decide.”
————
You wrapped your arms around Dia’s neck as he lifted you up effortlessly and spun you around, the both of you laughing. He was so glad to hear what you desired, and more than happy to do what he could to make that wish come true. You hardly asked for anything for yourself, something he found absolutely charming, but now that you confessed to him that you wanted to be his? He’d give you the whole Devildom if you asked for it. Maybe even if you didn’t.
You hid your face in his neck as you hugged him close. You were pretty sure you must be dreaming at this point, but you didn’t care. You were going to make the most of this dream for as long as it lasted. You still had the other 3 of your beloved demons to talk to, but having Dia on your side made that not seem nearly as scary now. He had given you permission to be yourself, and he didn’t shame you for it, or guilt you into changing your mind. He just listened, and accepted you with open arms.
“I want to suggest we make a break for it, and run off together, but I think Lucifer and his brothers are waiting for us.”
You pulled back to look Dia in the eyes, and smiled at him. He was even more handsome up close, and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through his hair before resting your forehead against his. You wanted to savor this moment for just a little while longer. After you left your room, there was going to be a whole host of things to discuss and negotiate. It might honestly be awhile before you’d get to have some alone time like this with him again, but you knew he was worth it. They all were. You’d figure things out one way or another, of that you were certain.
“Alright, I guess I’ve put this off long enough.”
“I probably shouldn’t carry you into Lucifer’s study, should I?”
“Probably not,” you laughed.
Diavolo set you down gently, only releasing you from his arms when he was sure you were steady on your feet. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead before offering you his hand, and entwining his fingers with yours. He beamed at you, when he caught you staring at your joined hands, lifting them up to kiss the back of the one he was holding. You blushed at the gesture, but couldn’t help but smile when your eyes met his.
“Shall we?” he asked, leading you to your bedroom door.
————
You peered sheepishly around the corner of Lucifer’s study door before entering the room, Diavolo slightly behind you, with one hand gently resting on your lower back to encourage you. As your eyes scanned the room, Lucifer, Satan, and Beel all turned to face you, various expressions of anxiety and excitement written on their faces. You turned back to look at Dia, and he just smiled and nodded at you, guiding you inside.
“Hey…” was all you managed to squeak out.
Not wasting a moment, Beel rose to his feet and wrapped his arms about your shoulders, pulling you to his chest. He kissed the top of your head, before resting his cheek against you.
“I love you,” he whispered, “and I’m fine with whatever you want to do.” You clutched at his shirt in return, relief washing over you. He didn’t ask you any questions, he didn’t pressure you to make a choice. He just supported you like he always did, the same support you gave him. You took a deep breath, breathing in his scent, before slowly pulling away so you could see his face. He smiled at you softly, and you just felt your heart melt. How could a demon possibly be this cute? you wondered.
“I love you too,” you replied, making his smile broaden. You hadn’t said it to him yet, and hearing those words in your voice made him want to jump for joy. Caught up in the moment, you briefly forgot about the others in the room with you, until Lucifer cleared his throat. You blushed heavily when you realized you were being watched, and you could hear Dia chuckling behind you.
Beel let you go, but immediately grabbed your hand and brought you to the chair he had been sitting in earlier. You took your seat, starting to feel a bit nervous again when he stepped back, even if it only was so Lucifer and Satan could have a chance to speak with you.
They were probably the two you were most anxious about speaking with. Their relationship was complicated enough as it was, you weren’t even sure they’d want to stick you in the middle of it.
“We’ll be outside if you need us,” Dia said, more to you than anyone else, as he offered you a smile. Beel nodded to you as well, before slipping out after Diavolo to give you some privacy with Lucifer and Satan.
Lucifer nudged the coffee table over so that it was positioned in such a way that both he and Satan could sit side by side in front of you. Even after he took a seat though, Satan remained a little ways away, silent and watching. Part of Lucifer wanted to chastise him for being stubborn and troublesome, but then he remembered that Satan was the only one to openly confess to you, and as such, probably had a lot more to discuss with you, preferably in private.
“I’ll keep this brief for now,” Lucifer began, returning his attention to you and holding the hand nearest him, “But I too, love you, deeply. And I hope you will accept me. I’m willing to do whatever is needed to insure your happiness.”
You had not been expecting such an open and forward declaration of love from Lucifer, of all demons, but you could see the unbridled passion in his eyes as he looked at you and waited for your reply. All you could do was nod your head, which made Lucifer smirk, pleased that he had rendered you speechless. He leaned forward, kissing you tenderly on the lips. It was only the briefest of touches, but it contained a promise of more that made your heart race.
“We will talk more later,” he said, as he gave you one final kiss to your forehead, turning to look at Satan before he left the room.
Satan kept his eyes trained on the door to Lucifer’s study until he heard the tell-tale “click” signifying it had been locked. He then sighed, his shoulders relaxing, as he turned to face you. His mask, the carefully crafted one he often hid behind in his attempt to control his emotions, crumbled away and you could see just how exhausted he appeared. Your heart ached knowing that you were to blame for that. He had been waiting for your response to his confession for several weeks now, and you had always managed to avoid answering him.
You knew you needed to apologize to him, before anything else, so you stood up and hesitantly moved to stand before him. Fortunately for Satan, even with as close as you were, you were unable to hear the way his heart thudded rapidly against his chest. Or if you did, you didn’t mention it. Instead, you simply reached out for his hands and held them tightly, rubbing your thumbs along his knuckles.
“I’m sorry, Satan. I was...I was scared. And I acted childishly and selfishly. I should have spoken to you…”
Your apology was cut short when you suddenly felt his lips crash into yours. Taking advantage of your surprise, he wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you close, and with the other he gently cradled your head, holding you in place. It took a moment for your brain to catch up with what was happening, but once you finally realized you quickly looped your arms around Satan’s neck and deepened the kiss. You could feel him smiling against your lips when you did so, happy tears starting to spill from your eyes.
“I love you,” you whispered, when you finally broke away for air, “I’m sorry for not talking to you.”
Satan rested his forehead against yours, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on the back of your neck, “I guess you’ll have to make it up to me,” he teased.
“I guess so,” you laughed, before pulling back to look him in the eyes, “Are you sure you’re ok with this? With Lucifer and everyone I mean.”
“I won’t lie and say I wouldn’t prefer to have you all to myself. But,” he paused, tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear, “but I’m willing to work with you, to try to find a compromise we can all be happy with.”
“Really?” you could feel your tears threatening to spill again as your heart started to overflow with joy.
“Really. Will you promise me something though?”
“Of course, anything,” you said, wiping at your eyes, trying to fight off your tears.
“That you will talk with me if things change. And that we will be able to spend time together, just the two of us.”
Your vision blurred with tears, unable to hold them back any longer, “I promise. I’ll talk to you. About everything.”
“Good,” he whispered, gently kissing away your tears as they slid down your cheeks. You couldn’t stop smiling now if you even were to try. You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him as tight as you could manage, hoping to convey even a fraction of your happiness to him. When you felt him hug you back tightly, arms wrapped around your waist, you knew you had been successful.
Against all odds, and despite your fumbling attempts at dealing with your own emotions, you had managed to get everything you had wanted. Never in your wildest dreams could you have imagined things working out this way. Your arrival in the Devildom had been a lonely one. But you weren’t alone anymore. Not now, not ever.
#200 followers#anon request#request#gn!mc#poly mc#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me lucifer#obey me diavolo#obey me satan#obey me beel#lucifer x poly mc#satan x poly mc#beel x poly mc#diavolo x poly mc#obey me angst#obey me fanfic#poly angst#poly comfort
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Regulus and Muslim!Jily headcanons
With Regulus and Remus’ friendship and Regulus being a cultural nerd
Tw: child abuse, and mentions of islamophobia
So Regulus obviously grows up hearing all kinds of things about Muslims, muggleborn and werewolves from his parents. He doesn’t really understand why his parents hate them so much or why Sirius always argues with them about it when he knows he’ll be punished, so Regulus just stays quite
At Hogwarts, he hears his housemates throwing around words like “terrorist” and “killers” while talking about James and Lily or other Muslim students, but he doesn’t get it. He does hate James, but that’s because of the burning jealousy he feels when Sirius talks about him like he’s the bestest friend he ever had. He doesn’t have any problem with Lily because he doesn’t understand why he should hate her just because of her religion or because her parents aren’t wizards. If anything, he is fascinated by her clothing that is so different from what others wear or when he overhears her talking to her friends. Because he has a deep love for different cultures and reading about all the differences between them. But he buries that curiosity because he doesn’t want to find out how his parents will react if they found out
That is, until he becomes a Prefect and has to share rounds with Remus Lupin. He would never admit it out loud, but Remus actually seems nice. He is friendly and makes small talks during their rounds, never bothered by Regulus’ lack of response
One day, when Remus looks especially sick, they stumble across Lily and Alice, who fuss over him and tell him to go back to dorms earlier tonight. As he agrees and bids them goodbye, Regulus notices that Alice hugs him but Lily only smiles before leaving. After a short debate with himself, he bites the bullet and asks him about it. Remus looks a little surprised at first, but then explains to Regulus how her religion advises her to avoid contact with men
And slowly it becomes a thing. Regulus asks more questions every day and Remus answers them, though he almost always adds that it’s not necessary that it applies to everyone and he is only answering from what he knows. Regulus tells him not to tell Sirius or anyone else about it and Remus promises that he won't. Sirius and James come up in these conversations usually, and Regulus finds himself missing Sirius even more, and begrudgingly accepts to himself that James doesn’t sound too bad if what Remus says about him is anything to go by
Remus keeps his promise of not telling anyone, but does suggest subtly that Regulus should talk to Sirius, or that Sirius still talks about him sometimes. He really wants to but he doesn’t know how to do that or where to go from there
As Regulus quietly admits his interest in knowing about cultures, Remus gets some cultural books from Lily that they start reading in the library and he has to admit that it’s the best part of his day
And on one of these days, Regulus is a bit early and finds Sirius sitting very close to Remus, pestering him to come back to the dorm. Sirius looks horrified at first at seeing Regulus but then defensive, while Remus just greets him politely. Not sure about what to do, Regulus just sits opposite them and greets Remus back and seeing sirius’ confused expression, just mutters, “At least button up your shirt.” Remus chuckles softly while Sirius turns a deep red, still looking perplexed. Remus gives Regulus an apologetic look, probably because his promise broke, though it was a mistake, but Regulus realizes he does want to talk to his brother again, so he tells Sirius about their meetings. Sirius as expected looks betrayed and even a little hurt but he spends the rest of the time with them, commenting occasionally
Their relationship is obviously very unstable, but slowly, after many arguments and some heartfelt conversations that leave Regulus feeling raw and untethered, they somewhat get back to what they were. And Regulus will absolutely never admit it to anyone but maybe, maybe Remus, but as James, Peter and Lily occasionally join them too, he finds their company nice too. James has a ton of stories from his childhood and from what his parents tell him. Lily tells him about reverting to Islam when her aunt reverted and how different that experience is from being born Muslim
Regulus surprisingly finds himself looking forward to these conversations even more and missing them when he can’t make it because his housemates start getting suspicious
Sirius keeps telling him to come with him to live with James’ parents, and Regulus’ responses go from “I can’t” to “I will think about it” and when they have to leave for holidays, Regulus realizes he really doesn’t want to go back home, but he doesn’t have any choice
On the day they have to leave, Sirius again tells him to come with him and he looks so close to tears that Regulus feels his own eyes sting with tears. But he refuses and Sirius walks away with a muttered curse. The others leave with goodbyes too, but Remus stays back to say “Can you promise me something?” And after Regulus’ nod, says, “If anything happens and you want to leave, please leave. I know it seems scary and you think that you have to stay but that’s not true. You can leave.”
Regulus thinks about those words a lot the following days as he returns back home. And when, a week later at dinner, his parents talk badly about muggleborns and Muslims, he understands why Sirius got so angry, and for the first time, he talks back to his parents. The first slap from his mother is expected, what isn’t expected is finding himself biting back, “This is why you always punished Sirius, isn’t it? Just because he thought muggles and Muslims deserve to live?” His mother’s face flashes with fury and then it’s cuts and blood and pain
Later when he is sitting alone on the floor, trembling and wondering how Sirius endured this for years, Kreacher comes there and Regulus asks him to bring his trunk from his room and painfully walks to the fireplace, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu as he remembers standing outside the door and seeing Sirius leave
“Potters Mansion,” he whispers, the words feeling odd on his tongue but hopeful all the same
Muslim Headcanons List
#regulus deserved better#ah i love him so much#regulus black#regulus black headcanons#sirius black#muslim!jily#muslim!james#muslim! lily evans#muslim characters#remus lupin#peter pettigrew#tw: islamophobia#tw: child abuse#marauders#wolfstar#my headcanons#my writing#marauders headcanons#muslim kids at hogwarts#harry potter#harry potter headcanons#eid
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Re-imagine Snape
Someone recently went through pretty much every Snape-positive meta, sometimes with my own additions, that I reblogged (thank you, sweet person!), and for one, wow! I hadn't realised I had so much of it floating on my blog. For another, rereading one of the posts brought something to the forefront that I was too emotional at the time to formulate.
I sometimes struggle to with understanding criticism of media, when the critical voices come from people with a very different lived experience from my own. I am a cis white female who lives in a country with socialised healthcare, I am fully aware that I am insulated by privilege and accept that there are certain things, that I will never fully understand. Doesn't mean I shouldn't at least try. There is an exercise that I found useful, even though it falls back on the use of... very narrow stereotypes.
When 50 Shades of Grey suddenly went mainstream, I found the best way to explain why I disliked the franchise, despite it's fanfic origins, was to substitute the names of the protagonists with arabic sounding ones. Anastacia and whatshisname Mr. Grey became Aisha and Yusuf. And suddenly the fact that the male protagonist demands authority over what the female one wears, eats, where she lives, what she buys, who she socialises with and what she talks about, all outside of their sex play, stops sounding edgy and kinky, and starts looking a whole lot like abuse. Because we are conditioned to recognise abuse only when applied to certain groups, when viewed through certain lens, and it was easier to identify what my exact problem with 50 Shades was, only when I fully leaned into the stereotypes, eliminating my blind spot.
Now, reimagine Severus Snape as a black boy/man. He grew up poor and disadvantaged, in a town/part of town where most people had similar struggles. His home was abusive and neglectful, and he is socially awkward, whether as a result of the neglect or because it is something inherent to him, it doesn't matter. Despite having gained access to an elite school and showing talent, it is clear that his upbringing makes him an outcast. He is discriminated against and is further sidelined, subtly and overtly, by other students, by teachers and by the Headmaster. He is sorted into a House where the majority of racists are sorted into. He is denied access to networking opportunities by Professor Slughorn, despite his show of aptitude. He is constantly and viciously bullied by boys from very rich, very privileged families (I know, that only Sirius and James are from Ancient and Noble Families, but they are also the main driving forces behind the abuse at school; Peter and Remus were at best characterised as hangers-on), and his teachers ignore it; to the point that when his life is endangered the Headmaster outright refuses to even publicly aknowledge any wrongdoing by the responsible parties. He has no recourse against bullying, because he is much more in danger of being expelled himself if he retaliates in kind than to receive justice if he follows the acceptable course of action; and we don't really know how much bullying or peer pressure of participation he was under from his own housemates.
He will have very quickly realised, that even if he manages to finish the school he will have a very hard time to be compensated fairly for his work, despite his talents; because people will look down on him either because of his class background, or his race or his lack of social graces. And his only friend, a white girl, despite sharing the disadvantage of class and race (in the sense that she is also not a pureblood, since blood purism was used as a metaphor for racial inequality), she had a very different experience than him. One - she didn't grow up in an abusive household, two - because her family wasn't quite as poor as his, since, you know, her dad didn't drink away all their income; and three - she was planted into a much more socially flexible environment to make connections, aka the Gryffindor house.
Hell, even the way that some parts of HP fandom insist on hypersexualising the relationship of two prepubescent children is consistent with the portrayal of black boys in media. Because a thirty year old white man is a considered a child, but an 11 year old black boy is seen as a man. And if he is a man, the only thing he could want from this innocent white girl must be sexual in nature. Thus all the accusations of a 9-yr-old Severus stalking Lily somehow making sense.
And while I am not going as far as to equate the Death Eaters to Black Panthers, I do remember that the latter were often vilified as violent thugs and armed gang members, when what they actually wanted was to create a unified, defensible front, to be able to provide a safe, nurturing environment for their weakest members. Circling the wagons, if you want. If the Death Eaters weren't comprised of bigoted purebloods with more ambition and money than ability, but of muggleborns and muggle-raised halfbloods who would seek to increase their bargaining power in the Wizengamot and with potential employers, how quickly would they be labeled terrorists, intent on destroying the traditional pureblood ways? They wouldn't even have to kill a single pureblood.
What if they vowed to never accept less payment for services than what is fair, to never accept abysmal working conditions (except maybe to gain the mastery and then adios, motherfucker) and contracts with immoral stipulations; to invest in each others entrepreneural ideas instead of finding investors from pure blood families; at best accepting loans from Gringotts, because if anyone understands unfair treatment, it is goblins? What if they wielded their combined buying power among their own businesses and charging purebloods horrendously; what if they only apprenticed the children of their own circle, especially if the halfblood master of the field was the exceptionally gifted one and thus much more sought after among purebloods? Their social and financial power would be significant enough for a potential Minister of Magic to invest into courting their voting bloc, and for the Guilds to consider representing their interests. They wouldn't have any power on the Wizengamot, not at the beginning, but not every pureblood family was aligned with blood purists, though it is a big question, whether they wouldn't ally themselves with their former enemies once they perceive the ‘unpure’ as a threat. But if they would at least gain one pureblood family as a dissenting voice in the Wizengamot, as an avatar to promote more egalitarian laws... and then reinforce their message by applying the financial pressure... it is not unreasonable that at least some changes will be made. If this sort of power is what Severus imagined to gain from joining the Death Eaters... I can't actually fault him for that.
But I went off on a tangent. The point is, that Snape is one of the few characters who genuinely regretted his actions, but was still perceived as a criminal and a convicted felon, who only escaped imprisonment because an old white privileged man still had something to gain from pressuring him into a life of service and danger. The way his character arc is handled is also reminiscent of the discussions of the school-to-prison pipeline and incarceration rates in the US. And when he died, he died an ignominous death that no one but Harry Potter even valued. No one else would ever see him as a hero. No one else named their child after him, not even Draco, in whose protection Snape was so invested. He stayed a footnote in history, his contributions to the war effort forgotten or attributed to the man that manipulated him; the man who was lauded a hero and managed to finagle a state funeral while Snape bled out on a dirty floor in an abandoned shack and no one knows where his body is, still vilified as a Dumbledore’s murderer and Voldemort’s bootlicker.
What I am saying, is seeing Severus Snape as conceptually a black man changes a lot in how i perceive his character, despite not changing even one word of canon.
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YJ College au: Zatara
Zachary Zatara is both a myth and their housemate.
In which Bart has a cryptic-buddy, Tim is stressed because cute boy insists on being annoying, and everyone else just rolls with it.
Tagging @animemangasoul and @marudny-robot cause I know you guys like this au
--.--.--.--
As usual after pulling an all-week-er (he had left the ‘nighters well behind at this point), Tim was up late that saturday. The window had been left open last night, so a soft streak of sunlight wamed his bed, waking him up slowly and peacefully. Yeah, he would have liked a few more hours, but sunbathing in his sheets for a while wasn’t all that bad either. What would make this half-awake-half-dreaming experience would be some chill music.
Muddled mind made, he rolled in his bed, hand patting the mattress for his phone, squinting his eyes open when he hit something different instead.
He found himself to be almost nose to nose with a dark haired, grey eyed boy.
Tim started that fine morning screaming himself hoarse.
-.-.-.-.-
Sitting at the kitchen’s table, getting everything ready for a late sunday breakfast, Kon raised his head when he heard the strong sound of a scream, followed by… yeah, that was a body hitting the ground. It was unmistakable, in this house.
“Oh, hey guys”, he called to the attention of the rest of his housemates, all in equals states of zombie-ness, with not as good hearing as his. “Zachary is here.”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-
“The fuck, Zach? My bed? Did you HAVE to crash on my bed? Why are you even here?”
Tim, four coffee cups after his pseudo heart attack half an hour ago, was ready to face the day and their intruder.
“Dude I live here as well, you know. Also your bed is literally the softest thing I ever slept on, you rich bastard. Learn to share.”
“I’ll buy you your own fucking mattress if you swear to never crawl on my bed uninvited again.”
The boy’s eyebrows rose, suggestively. “What was that about an invitation?”
Distressed and not feeling awake enough (he was still two cups away from that) to deal with bi thoughts this early in the morning, he turned his most helpless look to Conner.
Because he was the best friend ever, he threw a pillow to Zachary. And because he was a suck up to anyone who brought him food, Bart intercepted the hit and gratefully accepted the candy bag he got in thanks.
“But actually, Zat, what are you doing here? I thought you were in Berlin?” interjected Cassie, her own tea (the heathen) cup warming her hands as she cuddled with Cissie and Greta on the couch, legs in each other’s laps and generally being the cutest shit ever.
Anita, not very keen on that kind of sweet love, had been wrestling with Slobo for control over the remote for the last fifteen minutes. Miguel was keeping count on their hits for them, though it was mostly assured he would rig the whole thing up to whoever had bribed him better before the fight.
Tim just wanted to go back to sleep in his sun-warmed bed.
“C’mon guys, keep up”, moaned Bart, candy bag half empty already, “he was there two weeks ago. He had an exam yesterday so he came back last monday.”
“...come again?”
“I’ve been room-hopping ever since, though none of you seemed to mind. Until I disturbed sleeping beauty over here, at least.”
Miguel’s eyes left the fight to squint suspiciously at them. “We weren’t aware you were doing that. Where did you sleep? How didn’t we notice?”
“I'ma mystery. I also move around a lot when sleeping so I probably ended up under someone’s bed after crashing from studying. Oh, Anita, if you were wondering, your purple bra is under Cissie’s bed.”
Anita slowly let go of the grip she had on Slobo’s neck. Her eyes shone something dangerous. Cissie, the one who was apparently hosting the boy all along, also stood up and frowned.
“How do you even know that bra is mine!!”
“What the fuck were you doing under my bed, you bastard!”
Tim sipped his coffee, bitterly. “At least he was under it, and not sharing it.”
Kon patted his back.
-.-.-.-.-..-
“I swear, Jay, he thrives on making me lose my shit. He just… comes and goes whenever, leaving no proof he was ever there, or acting like he was always around. Drives me nuts. I’m not sure he even attends classes, and I only know he actually has a right to enter our house because his rent money always appears on the kitchen table a day before its due. He doesn’t even have a room, why does he even pay? To have an excuse to scare the shit out of the rest of us. Except Bart. The little shit lives for our suffering.”
Jason arches an eyebrow, sipping his beer as he carefully examines his brother. Tim looked less tired than the last time they saw each other, and the modifications done by his psychiatrist had done wonders to the shadows in his eyes. But he seemed somehow… frazzled.
“And he was just there when you woke up?”
“His nose was touching mine.”
“I bet your little bi heart couldn't take that, huh? Is he cute? Maybe you invited him to share your bed the night before and just don’t remember. You know how you get after a week of disregarding your general wellbeing.”
“Oh, shush you. I take care of myself. When was the last time you went to your check in with Patricia?”
Jason scratched the back of his neck, averting his eyes. “I missed one session, because I have exams too you know? But I’m up to date with Silvio, and we are working on slowly easing me off the medication.” He noticed the way Tim looked at his drink, expression screaming bullshit, and he scowled in response. “Fuck off, it’s alcohol-free. Kori and Artemis would have my head if they caught me mixing my dosage with anything stronger than tea, and I can’t deal with Biz and Roy’s disappointed eyes.”
Tim thought of the last time he refused to see his therapist, and the look in everyone’s (specially Kon’s) eyes, and had to agree. Having friends sucked when one wanted to wallow in self destructive conducts.
“Whatever, all I’m saying is, he’s not cute enough for me to forgive his weirdness. You know the people I roll with, so this is saying a lot. And I would remember inviting him to my bed, if anything for the mortification of it. I’m also…”
The ring of the doorbell distracted them both of whatever Tim was gonna say next. Waving his brother off, Jason got up to pay for their pizza.
When he returned to his living room, Tim was no longer alone.
“Who the fuck are you?” He exclaimed, eyes going back to the hallway at his back, then again at the black haired, grey eyed kid sitting next to Tim. “And how did you get in? We are on the sixth floor and I was just at the only door I have.”
Tim raised his eyes at him, and he seemed equal parts resigned and frazzled. ‘Told ya’, he seemed to say.
“Yo, the food’s finally here. I’m starving. The name’s Zachary Zatarra, by the way. Tim’s friend and housemate.”
“Allegedly” mumbled the other under his breath, earning himself a smile and pat on the back. “Don’t question it, Jay. He’ll be gone after a while when none of us are paying attention. Just let it be.”
“But while I’m here”, the other boy continued, grinning devilishly as he looked at Tim and then Jason, “instead of questioning how did I get in, what about I tell you all about your lil bro’s crush? It 's adorable.”
Tim raised an eyebrow “I don’t have a crush on anyone.”
“Like I said, adorable. He’s so oblivious, it’s precious.”
Decision made, Jason left the pizzas at the coffee table and went to fetch a soda for their guest. Gossip, especially about his siblings, was the best way to gain his immediate cooperation. And he could always force the answers about Zatara out of Bart; the brat was terrified of him.
-.-.-.-.-.-
“Hey, who has to cook tonight? Because I’m craving chicken nuggets.”
Cassie raised her eyes from her magazine, tapping a finger against her chin.
“Uhm… Zach, I think?”
Miguel nodded. “Okay, thanks, where can I find him to suggest my dinner idea?”
Cissie, legs on Cassie’s lap, dropped her head over the couch’s armrest. “Ask Tim? Wasn’t he crashing with him this week?”
That same moment, said boy entered the room, shaking his head. “No, he was sharing with Anita and Cassie.”
“No, he wasn’t… Slobo?”
“Not with us either”, denied Miguel, sharing a look with his roommate to confirm just in case.
“Conner?”
“Didn’t Bart say yesterday he was driving him to the airport?”
“Wait, he left the country again?”
“More importantly, can Bart drive?”
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.
When Tim came back home from class, Damian was in his living room. Using a laptop. Sitting side by side with Zatarra.
This couldn't be good.
“Hey, Timbo, welcome back.”
“Drake.”
Not uttering a single word, Tim turned around and walked out of there. Sleeping on a park bench seemed like a preferable choice, compared to finding out exactly why the two banes of his life were sitting together. It was healthier, good for his peace of mind.
Something something self care? His therapist would be so proud.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
“Hey dude.”
“Zatara. Your presence here disrupts my room’s feng shui. Please remove yourself from the premises.”
“This disaster zone is the farthest thing from armonious. If anything, I’m improving it.”
Tim raised his eyes from the computer screen. He could always kick the other man out, but that would require leaving the nest he made out of blankets and snacks on his bed. Perhaps a more civilized option would be better. Besides, as boundary-less as the dude was, he didn’t step into the room, just remaining on the doorstep, so whatever he was here for, he most likely needed Tim’s willful compliance.
“If I listen to what you have to say, will you leave?”
Zatara smiled angelically, like butter wouldn’t melt on his mouth, but the look behind his eyes was nothing short of devious. “That’s actually what I came to speak with you about. I have a show…”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“A magic show. Dude, you do know I’m a magician, right?”
Tim didn’t, in fact, know that, besides baseless suppositions about his disappearing-and-appearing abilities. But he had an all knowing facade to maintain, so he grunted in acknowledgement.
“Right, so, I have a show scheduled for tomorrow, but I took Bart out to dinner yesterday so I’m all dried up, and I need to buy a plane ticket asap.”
“Are you asking me for a loan?” he inquired, incredulous. As a general rule, all their housemates refrained from that. Something about not wanting to take advantage of their billionaire friend…
“No, no. I’m offering you a…. service.”
“Look, Zach, no offense? But you ain’t cute enough for me to stoop that low and pay for the… pleasure of your company. I can just give you the money and you pay me back whenever, dude.”
“No! I didn’t mean it like that! You wish I was offering something of the sort” he laughed, arms crossed and side leaning against the doorframe, chest and arm muscles perfectly visible. Tim kept his eyes carefully above neck-level. No need to give any weakness away.
“Then?”
“I know you love me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t make you miserable, right?”
“That is correct, yes.”
“Are you familiar with the ‘Buy my silence, $8.000 a month’ meme? Then get ready for a ‘pay for my absence’, my good bitch. I thought maybe you’d like...”
“Sold. I buy it. Take my credit card and go, be free, roam the world. Just get out of my room and fucking text once in a while so I know you’re alive.”
#My writing#college au#Young justice#Tim drake#conner kent#zachary zatara#bart allen#cassie sandsmark#slobo#miguel#anita fite#Cissie King-Jones#Greta Hayes#jason todd#Jason is a TA at college#Tim despairs#Zachary loves fucking with him#it's more than a pastime at this point#more of a career#my writting#mental health discussed#IN THIS HOUSE WE GIVE CHARACTERS THE THERAPY THEY NEED#housemates au
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Living a Lovely Loveless Life
I am a creature of contradictions.
I love swimming at the beach, but you couldn’t get me out in open water for love or money. If I can’t see land, if the ocean is so deep I can’t even imagine the bottom, I am terrified.
I admire the raw power of storms and adore the smell of rain, but I flinch when lightning flashes, because I’m petrified of the loud crack of thunder that always follows.
I love the cold, because it means I can wrap myself in the warmest clothes and take my showers boiling hot.
I am aromantic, and yet, I am in love.
I never expected to fall in love. I’ve never had anything against the concept, but I was fairly sure I wasn't capable of it. I'm still sure, actually. But, I'm also in love.
If that sounds confusing to you, don't worry, I'm confused too.
I’ve been confused for most of my life. I spent the first 21 years of my life confused about my feelings, and about why I never seemed to feel the way my friends did. I was confused why I never seemed to experience things the way the media and society told me I should. I stopped being as confused when I found the aromantic label and community. Finding a word to describe myself felt like coming home. For the first time I had people who understood me, who helped me understand myself.
Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for me to realise that in some ways I was still the odd one out. The aromantic community is simultaneously both very anti-romance and very pro-love. Contradictory and confusing as that as that sounds, it makes a certain kind of sense. We reject the expectations of romance that society forces on us, while simultaneously reminding people that love doesn’t have to mean romance. Aromantics aren’t heartless or cold. We can love just as intensely and deeply as anyone else.
Well, other aromantics can. Me? Kind of a different story.
I honestly believe that I have never felt an emotion I can comfortably point to and call love. Not romantic, not platonic, not even familial. It feels like such a terrible thing to say, that I don’t love even my family, but it’s true. I care for them, for people, and I often care deeply. But I'm not sure I love them. Most people seem to think that’s sad. Even other aromantics have told me how sorry they are for me, how difficult life must be without love, but I don’t know any different.
Instead, the difficult thing for me is seeing how much the aromantic community likes to focus on love. They reject romance, sure, but instead other forms of love, such as platonic and familial are placed on a (very high) pedestal. Queerplatonic relationships are a big thing in the aromantic community, and it's treated as the pinacle of aromantic relationships, the thing to strive for. It’s very common to see an aromantic say things like “love doesn’t mean romantic love/romance”, “aromantics still love their friends and family”, or even “saying aromantics can’t feel love is a harmful stereotype.”
These statements aren’t wrong. On their own, they are very important things to point out because the ‘heartless cold aromantic’ trope is a harmful stereotype, and should be combatted. However, all too often it comes at the expense of aromantics like myself, the aplatonics and ‘loveless’ aros. It feels much too similar to the old “asexuals can still feel romance” for me. As a stand alone statement, it’s not wrong. For some people it’s even an important argument to make. However, it’s usually coupled with the harmful implication of “see, we can feel X thing just like normal people do. There’s nothing wrong with us”. It just moves the goalposts of acceptable differences, at the cost of people like me. It's a different bus, but I’m still being thrown underneath it.
That isn’t the only way I feel like an outsider in my community however. While aromantics can be very focused on the idea of platonic, queerplatonic or familial love, they tend to push romance to the side. Even when they don’t outright hate it, romance isn’t usually seen in a positive light within the aromantic community. It’s understandable, because amatonormativity and the pedestal it places romance on is a problem. Society’s expectations and views of romance as the be all and end all of existence is damaging, and the main reason I thought I was broken for so long. But you can reject toxic romantic ideals without rejecting romance altogether, something it doesn’t alway seem like the aromantic community understands.
I don’t feel romance, but I don’t hate it. It’s the opposite actually, because I like romance. I enjoy dating people, as long as they are aware of and respect my identity. I like romantically coded actions, and I seek out emotional intimacy. I’m completely comfortable with people feeling romantically about me. Strangely, I had more romantic partners after coming out as aromantic than I did before, most lasting for at least a year or more. I was even engaged to be married last year, and I'm hoping to be engaged again in the near future.
In fact, my planned future follows some fairly traditional romantic goals. My partner and I plan on getting married, having some kids, and settling down to live our lives together, although not necessarily in that order. It’s the kind of life I thought I wouldn’t be able to have after I realised I was aromantic. I convinced myself it wasn’t what I wanted, both because I thought it wouldn’t be possible for me and because the aromantic community tends to be very focused on the rejection of traditional romantic scripts. I thought that because I was aromantic I should be smashing through amatonormative expectations, a shining beacon of why traditional romance was overrated and wrong, why it's expected goals are harmful.
My partner changed everything for me.
We met through our online Dungeons and Dragons game. A friend of mine invited me after I complained that I hadn’t played in years (also about my very poor social life). Turns out, it was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.
At the time most people in my life (myself included) thought it was a risky one, for a multitude of reasons. I had previously had bad experiences with long distance relationships and he lived halfway across the country. I was already engaged and although I was polyamourous he had no experience with those kinds of relationships. His name started with J, and I already had (at least) 7 evil exes all starting with the same letter, two of which even shared his name. I was skirting close to 30, he was barely 21, and my previous (traumatic) long distance relationship had also been with a much younger partner. Each of those reasons alone should have been enough to give me pause. Combined, it very much felt like the odds were stacked against us.
Yet, we’re still together over a year later. Our relationship survived him moving here just three months into it, the first time we met in person. It survived the fact that he arrived just before the state borders closed and lockdown started properly, so we spent a lot of time unable to leave the house, stuck in each other’s company. It survived the breakdown (and breakup) of my engagement to my fiance, and the rocky transition as we learned to live as exes and housemates rather than partners. It survived the late nights, larger workload and infinitely more stress when I got promoted to a higher position at work. It survived, and more than that, it grew. It grew into something different than anything I have ever felt before, because in the middle of it all, I fell in love with him.
It wasn’t a sudden thing. There wasn’t one particular moment when it hit me, because I couldn’t even make sense of what I felt at first. I just knew I felt very strongly, and that it was a different feeling then I had ever had before.
Oftentimes when I ask alloromantic people what love feels like, the answer I get the most is “you just know”. Not the most helpful answer, but I don’t really blame them for it. Love is difficult to describe in a singular way. The truth is I could ask five people to describe love and get twelve different answers. Everyone has a different view on love, and it changes with each person you love. How you love them, why you love them, it changes from day to day. How could you ever properly describe the shifting nature of something that never stands still? Something that grows and changes with each action, each word and look and touch.
I don’t feel love, but I think I understand it. I sit on a very unique intersection of aromanticism and love, an experience not often seen and very seldom shared. I don’t feel love, but I’m also not romance repulsed. I don’t hate romance, or reject it. I participate in it, seek it out, even crave it. Now, I get to experience it.
Does my love feel the same as the love an alloromantic person would feel? I don’t know, and quite honestly, I don’t care. Love isn’t something that can be compared between people, because no one else can feel love the way I do, just as I can’t feel love the way someone else does. My love is as unique as I am, as unique as the person I love is. The love I feel right now will never be replicated, whether I never love again or I love a hundred thousand times.
What I do know is falling in love let me make peace with myself, and all my contradictions. I don’t have to feel love to surround myself with it, to give and receive care and affection and intimacy. I can hate amatonormativity and fight against it while also wanting traditional romantic goals for myself, because this time I chose them. I can feel at home in a community while simultaneously being an outsider, because sharing a label doesn’t mean we share all the same views, opinions and experiences. I learned about myself because of what we shared, but I also learned because of what we didn’t.
I am aromantic and I don’t feel love. I am aromantic and I am in love. Both statements are true at the same time, because humans are messy and confusing and full of contradictions. I embrace mine as part of who I am, what makes me, well, me. And there’s no one I’d rather be, than me.
#aromantic#aro#loveless aromantic#personal thoughts#long post#some thoughts I've wanted to put into words for a long time#even in loveless aro spaces I don't always see this view#someone who is loveless but also participates in romance
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Destiel Trope Collection 2020 Day 6: College AU
Kisses | @peanutbutterjelly-pie
Rating: General Word Count: 1227 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, College AU, Fluff Summary: Some Hershey's Kisses, a misunderstanding and a very flustered Dean.
Where the Skies Are Blue | @deservetobesaved
Rating: General Word Count: 1361 Main Tags/Warnings: meet-cute, fluff, mutual pining Summary: Dean is mesmerized by a boy in class, but he doesn't show up again, much to Dean's dismay. (Spoiler Alert: Yes, he sees him again.)
The Dare On Your Lips | @envydean
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1540 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - College/University, Truth or Dare, Drinking, Alcohol, Oblivious!Dean, bad flirt!Cas, Dean has the biggest crush, Kissing, Minor Misunderstandings, Fluff Summary: Dean Winchester has had the biggest crush on Castiel, but believes that Castiel isn't interested. Then on one drunken night, Dean is dared to kiss Castiel.
Raspberry Jelly | @envydean
Rating: Mature Word Count: 1729 Main Tags/Warnings: brief Dean/Cassie, No Sex, Angst, Fluff, Getting Together, unexpected bi, College AU, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, accidental (brief) voyeurism, Dean in Panties Summary: After Castiel walks in on Dean wearing a pair of panties and grinding against Cassie Robinson, an awkward (tired-brained) conversation happens that almost ruins their friendship - until it doesn't.
Everything to Me | @suckerfordeansfreckles
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2607 Main Tags/Warnings: jealous Cas, insecure Cas, established relationship, love confession, college AU Summary: Dean pulls back from their kiss eventually, leaving Cas feeling way more than just a little horny, and also honestly very empty. Dean looks gorgeous with those stupid rainbow lights casting colorful streaks on his cheeks in the dark room. He looks gorgeous all the time, actually, and Cas is allowed to tell him now, so he does. “You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he says, against the loud music and noise around them, and Dean’s giddy-wide smile makes him even prettier. “So are you,” Dean calls back over the music with a twinkle in his eyes, and then he leans in for another short little kiss. “I’ll grab us some drinks, be back in a minute.” And then he turns around and saunters across the room towards where Charlie turned her cabinet and lunch table into a bar. If Cas wasn’t sure that Dean’s shaking his ass on purpose just by watching him walk away, the wink Dean sends him when he looks back over his shoulder is enough to convince him. For a little while, he just stands there and watches as Dean orders them drinks from the barkeeper Charlie rented for the party. Cas can’t help but consider how he looks, tall, huge muscles, wild dark hair and a blinding smile — just Dean’s type.
Extra Credit | @tobythewise
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2837 Main Tags/Warnings: Professor Castiel, College Student Dean, Bottom Cas, Top Dean, Rimming, Dom/Sub Undertones Summary: After Dean turns in a less than perfect paper, his professor, Mr. Novak, allows him an opportunity for extra credit. Dean REALLY wants that A.
Stargazing Has A Noble History | @jemariel
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 3058 Main Tags/Warnings: College AU, college party, casual sex, recreational drug use, frottage, photographer!Cas, business student!Dean, sculptor!Dean Summary: “Dean, shut up. You’re good. Have you seen yourself? You have an eye for dynamic lines and -- look, you’re obviously talented. Why aren’t you taking advantage of that?” The night air is growing cooler but Dean’s face feels like a red hot poker. “That’s what Ellen keeps telling me.” “Ellen? Ellen Harvelle? How do you know Ellen?” “She teaches my sculpting class. I had to take an elective, so.” He shrugs. “And how are you enjoying it?” Dean shakes his head. “I love it."" A first.
I Saw You | @kitmistry
Rating: General Word Count: 5899 Main Tags/Warnings: Secret Admirer, Mutual Pining, Fluff Summary: ISawYou: The newspaper column that has made every student on campus look each other in the eyes. Dean has never paid any attention to the messages posted on the newspaper, but everything changes when Charlie finds one that she insists just has to be about him. Or the one where Dean has a secret admirer.
La Vie A Plus | @thebloggerbloggerfun
Rating: General Word Count: 6260 Main Tags/Warnings: Asexual!Castiel, Artist!Castiel, Pining Summary: Dean Winchester is hopelessly, head-over-heels in love with his best friend and roommate, Castiel. Castiel - with his blue hair, and his tattoos, and his artwork, and his perfect everything. Dean never stood a chance, really. It only sucks because, as far as Dean can tell, Castiel is definitely not interested. But love, much like art, has a way of being unpredictable. Even if you think you know where you're going with it.
Hue Burn | @thebloggerbloggerfun
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 7594 Main Tags/Warnings: Synesthesia, Radio Host!Castiel, Artist!Dean, Summary: Castiel lives in a world of colour and sound, endlessly intertwined like two parts of a whole. As a radio broadcasting student, he runs a small segment on their campus radio program in the evening - and with help from his synaesthesia - tries to make the program more interesting by bringing in a little bit of colour. Castiel views his synaesthesia as both a gift and a curse, but after a chance encounter with a mysterious, stunning, golden-green voice, he's starting to think that it's more of the former.
Dear Virgo | @thebloggerbloggerfun
Rating: General Word Count: 9970 Main Tags/Warnings: Asexual Castiel, Soccer Player Castiel, Journalist Dean, Summary: Dean Winchester is a journalism major planning to coast his last year by mostly just sticking to writing the campus newspaper's daily horoscopes, and he almost succeeds. Enter Castiel Novak, captain of the soccer team, and his next interview appointment. It's obvious from the start that there's something between them, but things don't quite go as Dean first hopes, and he ends up learning a lot more about Castiel than he ever planned on - luckily for him.
Honesty Is All About The Timing | @navajolovesdestiel
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 12017 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe Alternate Universe - College/University Childhood Friends Misunderstandings Bisexual Dean Winchester Gay Castiel (Supernatural) Drunk Blow Jobs Slow Burn Happy Ending Summary: Cas Novak and Dean Winchester were inseparable best friends since grade school, but Dean's father moves Dean away when they get to high school. They connect again in college, but neither of them have been exactly honest about their sexual orientation. Not using their words leads to misunderstandings, then problems, then...?
A Study in Motion | @thebloggerbloggerfun
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 24094 Main Tags/Warnings: Photographer!Castiel, Ice Skater!Dean, College AU Summary: Castiel Novak’s one true passion is photography, though he’s still considered just an amateur with dreams of something more. When one of his professors gives the class the assignment of effortlessly capturing the idea of motion in a photograph, Castiel finds himself without a muse until his study partner, one Sam Winchester, volunteers his brother - a professional figure skater with dreams of his own and a past that held him back.
The Stars, They Shine | kradarua (AO3)
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 52953 Main Tags/Warnings: Theatre, Homophobia, Misappropriated Christianity, Astronomer!Castiel, Accidental Actor!Dean, Gay Panic, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, First Time, Minor Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Minor Castiel/Meg Masters, Top Dean/Bottom Castiel Summary: Engineer-in-training Dean Winchester just wants to work on cars. Astronomer Castiel Novak spends his time holed up in the school’s observatory looking at the stars and trying to piece together his dissertation. They’ve never had any reason to cross paths. Not until they get roped into participating in the college theatre group, anyway. When Lisa invites Dean to join her at the mass meeting, he can’t say no to a pretty face. But the joke is on Dean when he accidentally lands the male lead and has to come to terms with memorizing lines and trying not to make a fool of himself on stage. Moreover, despite his best attempts to stay interested in Lisa, there’s no denying the strange gravitational pull he feels around Castiel. Castiel is just here to prove to Charlie that he’s capable of doing something besides research; it should be easy, except he finds himself becoming interested in Dean in a way he really did not expect. Dean is trying to navigate being way outside his skill set; Castiel just wants to hold onto his scholarship without pissing off the religious organization that gave it to him. It’s going to be a long semester, especially if Dean keeps forgetting his goddamn lines. The show must go on!
Evangelist | @valleydean
Rating: Explicit Word Count: 334403 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - College/UniversityCollege, Drinking, Underage Drinking, Drug Use, Minor Character Death, Bisexual Dean Winchester, Demisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Dean Winchester, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Sharing a Bed, Break Up, Rich Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel's Family is Rich (Supernatural), Corporate Espionage, down with capitalism tbh, Near Death Experiences, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), References to Drugs, References to Abuse, References to Depression, Frat Parties, Poker, Roman Catholicism, Homophobia, Fire, Gambling, Drunkenness, Drunken Flirting, Drunken Kissing, Slow Dancing, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Bartender Dean Winchester, College | University Student Castiel (Supernatural), Student Castiel (Supernatural), Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Jealous Dean Winchester, Jealous Castiel (Supernatural), Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, a frankly ridiculous amount of references to abraham lincoln vampire hunter, Secret Relationship, ALSO!! the megstiel is not explicit! Summary: In Lawrence, the Novak family owns more than god. Castiel is expected to graduate with a business degree, become a community leader, meet a nice girl, and one day help run the family business, Evangelist, Inc. Then he meets Dean Winchester, who vehemently opposes everything Evangelist stands for. When Dean’s need for cash to pay the bills leads him down a risky path, both he and Castiel learn there may be more to Evangelist than philanthropy and good will.
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Lost You (Part 16) Final :
Starring- Jinyoung x reader
Genre- Angst, fluff
Summary- It's your choices and actions which made you miserable.
It was taking you a whole lot of time to accept and embrace the reality, even when it was much better than the little imagination of your head. Sometimes you still wondered if it was really nothing but just a figment of your imagination, your mind playing tricks on your unconscious body and damaged brain.
It's strange how a human body functions. You visited the neurologists for the best treatments and therapy that you could receive. Examining your brain, the doctor concluded that your hippocampus which is responsible for the memory has certainly been damaged resulting in retrograde amnesia, since you don't remember anything apart from your so called traumatic imagination. Fortunately you were still able to recognise people who were your close ones.
Everyone has been very understanding and nice to you even when you've clearly dumped each and every memory you had shared with them, a river of guilt soaking you wet with each passing second whenever they tried to tell you a certain piece of your memory of how you used to be. A sad smile adorning your face, it had become like you never lived with others and Jinyoung for so many years. You lost majority of your memories with Jinyoung, you did know that you were madly in love with him but everything turned upside down for you.
Undoubtedly it was your brain who played your life in such episodes which didn't even take place, though it felt so damn real. According to the doctor, It rarely happens that some patient who is suffering from a concussion and is in coma is precisely living in their mind. You didn't really tell them about Jisoo, you just termed her as some girl you wouldn't want to ever meet in your life.
Although you've certainly accepted the loss of your memories but you still needed time to let Jinyoung in again, you didn't feel a lot comfortable around him, he sure treated you like some princess but you couldn't bring yourself to accept him, so you kept yourself far from him as much as possible. Whenever he tried talking to you, you've been cold to him, you were worried if he would grow upset and leave but no, he didn't. Instead he stuck to you.
"Jinyoung, I'm sorry" You muttered softly pulling your hands from his grasp, standing up on your feet your back facing him,"I—I know that you've been hurt and how happy you're to see me again, but..... Jinyoung" You fiddled with your fingers nervously,"I need some time,I'm not ready to love you again, it's not like I don't trust you, it's just...—".
"Shhh~" Jinyoung cut you in between standing from the couch,"I understand how you're feeling right now,you were just handed with the most shocking news of your life. I won't force you into doing anything which you are uncomfortable with, trust me...." He expressed softly, a warm smile spreading over his sharp features as he stood in front of you.
"Thank you" You smiled back,for him being so understanding, "And I'm so sorry for putting you through this—".
"Aigoo, you talk too much" He chuckled, "Neither do I require your thank you nor sorry. All I require for living is you. If you're happy then I'm happy bab—", he stopped biting his tongue, "I'm sorry for that".
"It's okay you c—can still c—call me that", You cleared your throat avoiding the eye contact, he grinned inwardly probably thinking how cute you were being right now.
"I hope we can start off as friends then, as housemates. I promise no funny business", he asked raising his pinky finger for you to entangle in his which you did with a hesitant smile.
Since then you and Jinyoung have been sleeping in two different rooms, you're quite surprised at the amount of patience he has. He probably does everything which an ideal husband should. Yes, a husband and not a boyfriend. It sometimes makes you wonder what kind of memories you actually shared with Jinyoung, how was it to be newly in love with him, what all things about him intrigued you, what was that about him which really made you fall for him.
You started spending your time with others, you did say that you no longer consider your traumatic experience, yet in some corner of your heart, you were terrified since it was the only thing that you remember, that's it. The hardest was to meet with Youngjae. However, he showed you the photo albums which had both of your past times captured, he also took you out to the places, where you both used to enjoy hanging out and playing around with eachother.
Jinyoung mostly spend his afternoons and evenings in his office working diligently but always managed to call you once in a while to ask you if you had eaten your lunch, had your medicines on time, if you were reading anything in particular. You were mostly bored at home, unless one of your friends took you out with them. Jinyoung made sure you had no household chores to be worried about, he used to clean and arrange the entire house before you could open your eyes in the morning, mostly he went office without you knowing, your breakfast already prepared, ready to be consumed.
BamBam and Mark often came over to play video games with you whenever you were alone, Yugyeom and Jackson taught you some of their dance moves which was better way to stay fit than gyming out according to them while you went out with Jinyoung and Jaebeom to book stores and coffee shops, and you genuinely appreciated each one of their efforts. They have always been your family but now the picture was getting more clear.
On his days off, Jinyoung used to take you out on small dates, exactly how you liked. No fancy restaurants with people wearing tuxedos and silk dresses instead you liked strolling around the streets at night, playing at amusement park, eating ice creams, spending that quiet moment at Han river, you didn't really recalled that you liked those until Jinyoung informed you.
You knew that behind that adorable smile and soft affectionate eyes was a hurting heart, he was sorely hurting himself more and more just to mend yours. At the beginning you were somewhat scared of Jinyoung, of course he felt foreign to you, but you weren't to him, Most of the times when you tried putting yourself in his shoes, it broke your heart every single time.
"Noona!" BamBam and Yugyeom nudged your arm from either side.
"Yeah yeah", You answered staring back at them. "You've been zoning out, are you okay?" Yugyeom asked.
"I'm fine, just thinking about something", You replied still staring into the void. "Something or someone?" BamBam smirked. Had it been some other time you would have smacked them, but it made you blush.
"Can I ask you guys something?", You said aloud gaining all six of their attentions, eyes watching you intently,"Go ahead", JB motioned.
"Do you guys think that I'm hurting Jinyoung?" You asked nervously. They all laughed softly as if you could not say something more stupid than this, "I really did....".
Youngjae shrugged BamBam and Yugyeom from beside you, conquering the right side on the couch while Jackson sat on the left, tears brimming in your eyes.
"Shhh~" Youngjae wiped your tears lightly pulling your cheeks, "You can never hurt him, this is just a hard phase that you both will eventually get over with, together".
"What made you think that you are hurting him?" Jackson added, you faced him with a sad eyes,"I—I don't know....it just feels so, he is always smiley face whenever he's with me, but blame my heart because it says that he's somewhere hurting real bad", You explained.
"That's true, he is hurting real bad", JB began as soon as you locked eyes with him, he smiled "But not because of you, he is hurting because of the distance you both have, he's not blaming you for any of that actually he's happy because you....." He pointed at you "You are his heart, is with him but not within him. You know we've seen him crying and mourning over you the entire time. But other than consoling him and encouraging him we had nothing to do".
"He barely ate, barely slept. He kept on switching between you and his work yet managed to do both of them perfectly. We are aware about your condition, and please don't feel as if you asking for sometime was wrong. It was right in your place" Mark explained, "But we also have seen him longing for you, praying continuously for your well being to God, he was dying to hold you in his arms where you belonged".
"Your brain might've deceived you, but your heart won't, the feelings, the emotions and the love that you hold for him will forever be engraved there, because you both love eachother", Youngjae expressed while others nodded in approval.
Tears flowed constantly down your cheeks to your neck, not bothering to wipe them you still listened to each of their views with blurry eyes.
__________
Jinyoung called you in the evening letting you know that he'll be working late, with a quiet yet affectionate 'I Love You', which you obviously didn't reply back.
It's been six months already since you and Jinyoung restarted off as friends. Not even once did he cross the line, although he had every right to hold you in his arms and behave like a possessive boyfriend, instead he gave you so much freedom, just for your sake. He never touched you, not even your hands and it was about time you knew that he is the one for you, he didn't had to really touch you to make you feel things, to make you see how much he loves you because his eyes were enough to tell that you are his world, You are his life, And if you are not here, Then he won't be able to survive.
And the way he took care of you for past six months without asking for anything in return, if this isn't love then you were genuinely not interested in knowing it's actual definition.
Thinking everything to yourself, you drifted off to sleep hugging onto a pillow. Later when Jinyoung arrived home, it was 2am in the morning he was always cautious of his actions and he didn't want to wake you up right now at any cost. He gently pushed open the door to your bedroom, seeing you sleeping peacefully with your luscious hair sprawled over your pillow and some of the locks cascading your face, Jinyoung smiled softly feeling content, walking towards your form, he crouched down on his knees to see your face.
The moonlight landing on your face, making you look ethereal to him, the way your skin shimmered with the moonlight. He could sit and watch you like this for day and night without even blinking. Jinyoung lightly raised his fingers to side your locks being extra careful to not to touch your skin.
"I'm sorry, I promised not to touch you but it's just it's hard to hold back", Jinyoung apologized, finally caressing your head lovingly. "I'm sorry that I'm busy with all these office works and I'm unable to give you time, it's been hectic lately. Sometimes things get so.......so—that I just want to run to you telling you about my problems, like I used to. Your eyes, your smile was enough to say that everything will be alright.....but nothing about you is same anymore, why are you still so uncomfortable with me? I want you back please......When will we be like before?".
"Baby....I am not blaming you for any of that, I can understand. When you were admitted to the hospital the doctors almost gave up, they said that— that.... Maybe y—you won't survive, but I wasn't ready to let you go...hell I won't ever be ready to let you go ever......before losing you I would want to die, seeing you on that hospital ward was enough to wreck me, God knows how many times I wished it was me rather than you lying lifeless ".
Jinyoung has been keeping his feelings bottled up since then, and today they spilled out. He sobbed caressing your hair, "But the look you gave me when I first tried to hug you, I can never forget how hard it hit my heart. You were scared of me...... but I'm glad that you didn't leave me, you decided to stay with me....under the same roof and that was enough. I won't ever give up on you on our love, I love you and I've faith on my love that one day you'll feel the same for me.....till then I'll wait, I'll wait baby".
He stood up from the floor, pressing his lips lightly to your forehead which lingered for awhile, "I Love You so much....". With that he tip-toed out of your room closing the door behind him.
Tears rolled from either side of your eyes onto your pillow, you were asleep but when you heard his voice. You woke up, sobbing to yourself. He sounded so broken. It's not that he didn't listen what role he played in your imagination, it already pained him but the fact that it was making you act accordingly to your imagination in front of him, was stinging his heart.
________
You squirmed under the the sheets as soon as the sunrays landed on your face, seeping through curtains, the blinding light making you squint your eyes still trying to sleep even when you were awake by then. Suddenly you no longer felt the warmth on your face, opening your eyes. You were met with the most pleasant sight ever, and you finally admitted it.
Jinyoung's head blocking the sunrays, locking eyes with his soft alluring ones, you couldn't help but stare at them quite for some time, how can you not look at him when he was staring at you with so much love and affection. You almost lost it when the corners of his mouth tugged upward into a dazzling smile reaching his eyes and you swore it was the first time you noticed him smiling that wide, his eyes crinkling.
"I didn't mean to wake you up" He chuckled nervously, standing up on his feet from the exact spot he was sitting the previous night, sitting up on the bed, you smiled, "It's okay. I was up anyways".
"I brought you breakfast, it's not much though. I woke up late as well, so it was the fastest that I could prepare", He stated, rubbing his nape in embarrassment. That's when your gaze landed on the small glass table in your room, a tray which had french toast and a glass of orange juice.
"You're still here?" You inquired since Jinyoung is barely home in the morning due to his early departure for the office.
"Today's Sunday".
Nodding a little, you got up from the bed standing right in front of him, "Did you eat?".
"Not yet—"
"I'll just go and freshen up, let's eat together", You beamed brightly at him, which for sure made his heartbeat escalate to the sky, "S—Sure", he stammered picking up the tray, leaving your room immediately.
The breakfast grew quite awkward which you both knew about, he informed you about him being free today so if you wanted to go somewhere or wanted to do something, you were yourself feeling very nervous, fidgeting with your finger you asked, "Can we just stay home?".
"Yeah, of course".
"So would you like to have a movie marathon or something?".
Jinyoung got scared suddenly as to why were you not in the mood for movies, as far as he has come to know the new you, you liked watching movies and playing video games on Sundays, then why were you acting so strange.
"If I did something wrong unintentionally then please forgive m—".
"Jinyoung, can we have a reading session?" You suggested, cutting in.
"Yes of course!" He agreed happily, "I have a whole lot of books to read, you can sit on the couch, and I'll sit there", He pointed at the bean bag at the corner of the living room.
You could see how his eyes glowed just by hearing the term 'Books', which also made you smile. Within a minute he was back with a bundle of books in his hand.
"I didn't know which one to pick so I brought all, you can pick any one", he said, extending his arms for you to choose a book from. Instead you grabbed the bundle from his hands.
"Not here, in our room", You chimed, running to your room. The feeling of your unstable heartbeat wasn't foreign at all, instead it felt home. Jinyoung on the other hand dumbfounded by your words. Did you just say what he thought he heard?
Jinyoung felt as if he was falling for you all over again, and that he was trying to approach you, living young love once again. He stood awkwardly waiting for you to command him further, you've been so quiet and simple around Jinyoung, always talking to him in monotone, that he didn't even dare to move a finger against your will. And now when you're finally being soft to him, yet he doesn't have any idea what to do.
You gently held his wrist dragging him to your bed making him sit, he watched you with those lost puppy eyes, "I know that you like to read while laying down on bed, with your head against the headboard, I've seen you reading in that room".
Reluctantly he positioned himself on the bed, his head against the headboard. You immediately placed a pillow on his back so that it won't kill his muscles. Motioning him to begin reading, you flipped through the pages of your book, sitting on the bed beside Jinyoung.
Two minutes into the reading and you could already see Jinyoung with his nose buried deep into the book, while you kept on stealing glances at him, for the first time you were paying so much attention to Jinyoung after waking up from coma, the way his soft black locks were parted revealing his milky forehead,to his perfectly shaped dark eyebrows, to his beautiful almond shaped eyes, to his long straight nose, to his soft plump pink lips.
Holding the book firmly in your hand, you climbed on the bed, taking advantage of Jinyoung's concentrated mind you gently laid your head on his thighs, a shy smile adorning your face as if it was the most normal thing to do. You stared at the words and sentences blankly written in the book, hoping for Jinyoung to say something.
Jinyoung flinched slightly feeling your head against his thighs, more than anything he was surprised to see you initiating the physical contact with him. Lowering his book, he glanced at you who was busy reading, or maybe pretending to be busy with reading.
"What are yo—you d—doing?" He croaked out, his throat drying, he knew how much you disliked to have any sort of physical contact with him. Finally getting a response from him, so the tables have turned now. He was being scared of you.
"What do you mean?" You teased him, with your head still on his thighs. "You—I mean.....it's—", he couldn't even form a proper sentence.
"I'm lying on my Jinyoung's thighs, you got a problem with that?"
Your response shocked the hell out of Jinyoung, his heart stopped for a moment, keeping his book aside, he fixed his gaze on your face which had a pretty grin.
"What did you just say?" He exhaled desperately.
"You are my Jinyoung" You remarked softly, your heart hammering against your chest cavity so loud that you could actually hear it. Swiftly crawling up his legs, you settled on his lap straddling his hips, "You're mine right?", You asked cupping his face in your hands staring deep into his hypnotic eyes.
"Only yours", He whispered both of your faces merely an inch apart, he was getting high just by inhaling your intoxicating smell, it was taking every single fibre in him to resist the urge to kiss you then and there.
"What are you doing?" He whispered, without breaking the eye contact, "Don't—". You shushed him putting your index finger on his lips, "I'll speak and you'll listen".
"I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you.....it was just....I genuinely needed some time to put myself in place. But trust me, I never hated you, I was just being cautious. I'm sorry", You cried. Wiping your flowing tears from his thumb, he shook his head, "Don't apologize, I know how difficult it was for you".
"I shouldn't have distanced you from myself when all you did is love me and care for me without asking for anything in return, and not even once did you try to claim me. You selflessly kept me first when your own heart was in pain. Jinyoung.....I can't bring back the old me but I promise that with my new self I'll love you the way you love me, maybe more but nevertheless".
He was speechless at your confession, he never saw that coming from you atleast not like this or anytime soon. The position you both were in was already quite intimate and none of you wanted to let go of eachother. The shimmer of love heavily clouding both of your orbs, were enough to pull both of you to eachother, sending you both overdrive.
"So, Will you forgive me for putting you through all of this alone?", You asked your thumb caressing his cheeks ever so lightly.
Already drowning in your captivating essence, he nodded like a puppet.
"Will you forgive me for keeping you away from your love?".
Nod.
"Will you let me make things right between us?", Your fingers gliding from his cheeks to his jaw.
Nod.
"Will you let me love you all over again?", Your thumb caressing his bottom lip.
Jinyoung was thrown to some trance called you, the way you were straddling his hips with both of your chests pressed against eachother. Such unexpected loving confessions coming from you, in your sexy husky voice was driving him insane. His gaze switching between your inviting lips and your adorable eyes.
"Yes.."
Without any second thoughts, you pressed your lips against his soft ones into a small yet passionate kiss, just to seal your feelings for him, Jinyoung was too dumbfounded to comprehend while you pulled back.
"Did you— Did you just express......that you love..me?".
Pouting childishly, you stared at the wall pretending to be thinking, "Maybe....", Your taunting voice made him smile too.
"I'm sorry for making you wait so long but now, when we finally have eachother I don't want to stay away from you even for a second".
"That means I've full authority on you then?" Jinyoung teased back, with a grin slipping his hands behind your back pulling you closer to him. Your heart literally skipping thousand beats per second, "Yes your highness".
"I don't think that kiss was a real kiss", He smirked, putting your arms behind his neck, you encouraged, "Why don't you show me then?". And he didn't have to be told twice, he pushed you off his lap, pinning you on the bed with your hands on either side of you.
"Are you sure?", He breathed, slightly grazing his teeth over your ear, the sensation of him being so close to you made you blush in different shades of red, you faced the other side closing your eyes shut, "Where did my bold little angel go?".
Had it been earlier you would've cowered away, hearing 'Angel' from him. But the reality is where you will reside with your love, with your soulmate, with your Jinyoung.
"She's right before you, so will you kiss me or not" You provoked him with a sly grin. He chuckled heartily, attaching his lips to your plump ones again, both of your eyes closed. The kiss started slow but passionate, your hand flying to his nape bringing him closer to you if that could be possible, both of your love and emotions entirely poured into the kiss, none of you wanted to pull apart.
If there could be a proper definition of drugs then it would definitely be Jinyoung for you, you cursed yourself in your head for not doing this before, for not letting Jinyoung in sooner. His arms felt home and you were more than happy to be back in your home and God, you will never let anyone come in between you both ever.
Reluctantly pulling away from eachother for oxygen, you both inhaled heavily still staring at eachother affectionately. A fond smile appearing at both of yours lips, resting his forehead against yours, Jinyoung whispered, "I really missed you, I promise to look after you all of my life and not to do anything which will cause us to lose eachother. I love you angel, I love you so much".
"I Love You more Nyoungie", You smiled back, closing your eyes.
__________
"Lisa! Lisa! Here here!" BamBam and Youngjae shouted waving their hands at Lisa who looking here and there trying to locate the sources. Finally finding BamBam and Youngjae waving and yelling frantically, Lisa ran upto her boyfriend hugging him tightly. BamBam twirled Lisa around in his embrace kissing er head.
Youngjae made gagging noises, the same way BamBam did seeing couples showing PDA. Lisa grinned happily, greeting Youngjae.
"It took you so long! You said it would be three day thing and you're returning after a week!" BamBam whined.
"I had to attend the fashion event, the last minute. I couldn't back out" Lisa whined back convincing BamBam, "Leave all this how's unnie and Jinyoung, are they......".
"Yeps they are together finally! Noona accepted all of us and she can't wait to meet you, she didn't really get to meet you earlier".
You and Jinyoung along with other decided to call for a celebration, since you both have finally found way back to eachother plus Lisa was also coming back to Seoul today.
"The restaurant is quite impressive", You commented sitting beside Jinyoung who was cladded in a gorgeous Black Armani suit.
"Thanks to Mark hyung's friend, he owns this pretty restaurant", Jinyoung replied pecking your cheeks despite everyone eyeing you guys. The place was definitely expensive, one can tell just by looking at its interiors and fine lightings.
Lisa entered with BamBam along with her new friend which she met back in Australia who was surprisingly one of the youngest female CEO's of an IT company in Seoul. BamBam immediately rushed upto his friends hugging them one by one. Lisa glanced her friend whose gaze was focused on certain someone.
Nudging her friend's arms, Lisa warned quietly, "I hope you are not still crushing over him, Jinyoung is a taken man....Jisoo".
Facing Lisa with an innocent smile, Jisoo replied, "Of course not....", Thats when Lisa was summoned by BamBam, she motioned Jisoo to follow behind.
Watching Lisa walk to them, Jisoo smirked, crossing her arms to her chest, "I am not crushing over him Lisa.... because I love him".
"I am looking forward to know you personally, Park Jinyoung", her gaze fixed on Jinyoung who was whispering something into your ear making you giggle.
Part 15 // Part 16 (End) // ___________________________
(A/N: So I'm finally done with this FF, I hope you guys enjoyed it. See you next time. And thank you~~~) __________________________________
#got7 imagines#got7 jinyoung#got7 x reader#jinyoung imagines#got7 angst#got7 bambam#got7 jackson#got7 jaebeom#got7 mark#got7 youngjae#got7 yugyeom#jinyoung angst#jinyoung x reader#jinyoung fluff#jinyoung fanfic
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Matters of the Heart
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3c2767cd3c06d72bbabff62ef7d493f6/8a5d69eefd91f16e-62/s540x810/3cc2a360ad74a7b337893459048aae875c74046e.jpg)
"Why?" I groaned rolling over throwing a pillow across the room at my alarm clock. It was 5:30 in the morning and I was not in the mood to get up. Not only was it Friday, which meant it was the end of the week and I was exhausted, but I had a massive English final and to top it all off I was feeling pretty crappy. As I sat up, rubbing at my tired eyes I couldn't help but notice the aching of my limbs, my scratchy throat and my stuffed up nose.
I knew I needed to get up though,so I reluctantly left the warmth of my bed and trudged down stairs, finding that I was the first one awake.
For a few minutes the house was silent,and I relished it,knowing that by the end of the day I was going to have a pounding headache. It was at that moment when I started mentally kicking myself for fighting with my big brother Shawn when he had suggested getting a flu shot a month earlier. He wasn't happy, and it took a fair but of convincing,but eventually he let it slide. I hated needles, and he knew that.
"You look like you're about to fall over Aimee," Shawn appeared suddenly, laughing when I jumped slightly in fright, coming over to where I was leaning against the counter.
I looked up and smiled half-heartedlly.
"I feel like it!" I groaned.
"Hug?" he asked opening his arms for me to step into. Ever since I could remember we had always shared a hug first thing in the morning.
It was a ritual, and just because I was now seventeen and a senior in high school didn't mean that I didn't love it.
"Aimmee, you feel warm," he spoke, resting his hand on my forehead as I leant into him "Why don't you stay home today Sweet Pea?" he asked as I waited, snuggled in his arms for my coffee to finish brewing,sniffling every so often.
"Can't," I sighed, " I've got a massive test first period for English," I told him before swotting his hand away.
"Well at least make sure you take some Tylenol, and have plenty of water," He told me, as I grabbed my coffee, ready to leave the house.
"Shawn,I'm not a baby!" I huffed,rolling my eyes. I hated it when he went all over protective on me, especially when it came to my health. Of course it was just my luck that he and our other three housemates and his best friends,Brian, Dave and Connor were all well respected doctors at the local hospital's Emergency Department.
He hummed in response, clearly not impressed with my answer, but didn't push it. Normally he would've put his foot down and told me point blank I wasn't going. I knew I still had a ways to go though as I still had to get past the others.
I considered them to be brothers to me, just the same as Shawn, so I was very close with all of them. Consequently they were all extremely protective of me, something which I hated, as I really wasn't too fond of anything medical. I'd had a couple of bad experiences when I was younger that had put me off hospitals.
"Brian and Dave just left, and Connor's on call," Shawn told me as I grabbed my house keys. "I'll be home tonight. Bri and D will be home by lunch, so call one of them if you need to come home early. " He kissed my head before opening the door for me, and telling me to 'have a good day'.
Several hours later, and the day was turning out to be worse than expected. I had just come out of second period, and my head was throbbing, my throat aching as the pain killers I had taken earlier had long since left my system.To out it simply I was feeling like the walking dead.
"I love you babe, but you really are looking a bit rough hon." My best friend Emma spoke as she came to meet me outside the classroom.
"Let's just go sit down, " I begged as the halls started to fill. We walked in silence, not saying much, but as we were making our way through the doors to the lunch room I suddenly became very light- headed. White spots obscured my vision as I made a grab for the closest object, the side of the door.
"Are you okay Aimee?" Emma asked, coming to a stop behind me. Do you need me to call Shawn?" She asked as I tried to keep myself upright.
"He's at work call Brian or Dave please." I managed to get out, between sharp breaths, as she led me to a lunch table. As soon as she had me seated and stable she pulled out my phone from my bag and called. I could hear talking, but was too focused on not passing out, or throwing up to actually pay attention.
"Dave said he's on his way right now," she spoke making me sigh in relief. At least now I knew that if I fainted I would be in the presence of a doctor or doctors given that Brian was home now too.
"We may as well go up to the office, " she suggested taking my bag from me, and giving me a sympathetic smile. We trudged slowly up to the office building, and once I was there the school nurse made her leave, taking me to her office where I lay on the cot in silence, trying to will away the dizzyness that was now causing the room to spin even more.
I felt like I was on one of those spinny rides they have at amusement parks.
I wasn't really paying attention to the time or my surroundings so it startled me slightly when I heard the nurse's voice and realised that she was no longer in the room with me.
"She's in here. She drifted off about ten minutes ago, the poor darling," she tutted as the door opened. Dave stepped into the room, dressed in scrubs, his ID badge identifying him as a doctor at the hospital still attached to his pocket. Clearly he had just come from work.
"I'm sorry I made you leave early," I apologised, coughing.
"Aimee, don't be ridiculous, you know the guys and I would drop anything any time you need us honey." I knew it was true. They had lived together since their intern year, and when I moved in I basically gained three other family members. It wasn't much of an adjustment though as I already saw them as older brothers, so I knew he meant what he was saying.
"So you're not feeling too good ha? " he asked, coming over to the cot, and giving me yet another sympathetic smile.
"You could say that," I laughed at the gross understatement before, letting out a few harsh coughs, making Dave's brow furrow.
He took my hand, and pulled me into a sitting position slowly.
"I feel dizzy," I mumbled, holding his hand more tightly.
" You're okay, it's probably just your Eustachian Tubes. If they get blocked, it messes with your balance, and can make you feel dizzy," he explained calmly as he waited for me to get my bearings. Once I felt normal enough to stand,Dave took my bag, and led me out to his car, keeping a supportive hand on my lower back the entire time.
"How long have you felt sick?" he asked switching into doctor mode almost immediately as soon as we stepped out of the office. "Aimmee?" he asked again as we got strapped in. It was only then that I realised I hadn't answered his question.
"Since last night," I admitted, leaning my head on the window.
"You really should have gotten the flu shot," he spoke a few minutes later.
" D, don't lecture me, you know I hate needles!" I grumbled, turning to glare at him.
"I'm just saying." He held his hands up in defense.
"Well just don't say!" I snapped back. "Sorry, " I added when I saw the look of shock. " I get mean when I'm tired."
He smiled, nodding in response, but didn't say anything, instead turning the car on and heading for home. Something which I was greatful for as I wasn't in the mood to talk.
The next thing I was aware of was my door opening slowly and Dave rubbing my arm gently.
"Aimmee, we're home honey," he spoke as I squinted, readjusting to the light. He was patient as I got out of the car, and made my way inside, helping me into the warm house and straight upstairs to my room.
"Take this," he spoke, handing me some decongestant for my cough and some aspirin for my headache.
I made my way slowly over to the bed once I had taken the given medication, curling up as Brian walked in with a soft smile, still dressed in his scrubs, stethoscope round his neck. "Hi sweetheart, I just want to take your temperature." he told me coming over to the bed, with a thermometer in hand, sitting beside me.
"I'm going to turn the heating up, and get a few more blankets," Dave told us before leaving the room.
"Sit up for my Aimee," Brian spoke, pulling the covers back.
"No," I whined, rolling over to try to avoid it.
"Come on Aimee, it'll only take a minute," he promised as Dave returned and came over, helping to roll me over. True to his word it was only a minute later that the machine beeped and I heard them both hum.
"You got yourself a substantial fever hon. I want you to get into a singlet. You can have a thin blanket if you're feeling cold, but the more we reduce the outside heat sources the better."
"You shouldn't be having to look after me," I huffed as I got out of bed in order to remove my excess clothing. "You haven't even removed your stethoscope or the gel from your hair, " I pointed to the way his hair was still spiked back with gel, knowing that when Brian got home, removing it was always the first thing he did, kind of like washing the day away.
"How about you let me worry about that hey?" he suggested, before laughing as I nearly fell, trying to remove my school pants, leaving me in just bike shorts and a crop top. Once I was changed he got me situated, propping up pillows to help with my cough.
"Thanks," I mumbled. "Hey where'd Dave go? " I asked noticing for the first time that he wasn't in the room anymore.
"He had some paper work to catch up on," This wasn't unusual as Dave was the Head of the Emergency Department, with Shawn, Connor and Brian working as his deputys, helping to lead the charge as the hospital is one of the biggest in the country,getting code blacks several times a month.
"As do I, so get some sleep. Just shout if you need anything, I'll be in the lounge drowning in paper work." He smiled as he pulled the quilt up around me and walked out the door.
I woke to whispers a while later, not knowing where I was, or what time it was for a few moments. When I felt the gentle touch of a hand on my forehead, and then my wrist, I came back to reality.
"She's still too warm," someone whispered.
"Aimmee?" I recognized the voice as Brian. Slowly I managed to open my eyes, squinting, and letting out a small moan at the instant headache the newfound light was giving me.
"How you feeling hon?" he asked, sitting on the bed, and rubbing my arms gently. He had changed into sweat pants and an old teeshirt since the last time I was awake, his hair now flopping over the right side of his face.
"Cold, sore, tired...," I listed off, trying to fight the urge to cough again. I just wanted to roll over and curl back up.
"How 'bout you come down stairs and have something light to eat, get some fluids into you, and I'll heat up a hot water bottle for you?" he suggested, standing up from the bed.
I really didn't want to, but I knew I really didn't have a choice, and that no matter what I said, he would make me.
"Fine," I sighed, slowly sitting up, and following him and Dave at a snail's pace down the stairs.
"Why'd you go to school?" he asked as I got settled on the couch.
"Had a test I couldn't miss," I answered between another set of bone rattling coughs.
"That doesn't sound good." He folded his arms and eyed me carefully.
"Yeah well, it doesn't feel too good either."
"Will you let one of us listen to your chest?" he asked, probably already knowing the answer.
I shook my head. He left it at that, and went to get some food for me, also heating up the hot water bottle as promised. When he returned he made me eat a piece of toast and have some honey lemon tea to help soothe my sore throat, before finally letting me go back to sleep. That was where I was when my brother stepped into the house, I don't know how many hours later.
"How are you feeling?" Shawn came to sit on the couch with me, still dressed in his scrubs.
"Pretty crappy." I sniffed leaning into his side, and relishing the warmth.
" Brian,when was the last time she had medicine?" he asked, pressing his palm to my to head.
Brian poked his head into the room from the kitchen. Probably having been preparing dinner, as they all took turns usually.
"About five."
"So about an hour ago," Dave surmised, coming over to sit on the other side of me,and looking at his watch.
"You're still feeling warm Princess, I'm going to go get some wet washers. You're having the flu shot next year Princess." he called as he left the room.
"But Shawn!" I whined, he knew how much I hated needles.
No,we are not having a repeat of this. Wouldn't you rather avoid this if you can?"
"You don't even know it's what it is. How long does it last though?"
" Seven to ten days, give or take. That's if it is the flu though," he qualified from the other room.
"I am sick of feeling sick," I grumbled as I chucked yet another batch of tissues into the bin that Brian had left beside the couch for me.
"Well maybe you'll think about that next time I say it's time to get your flu shot," he sassed, coming back into the room with several cold washers. I couldn't help but roll my eyes, he always had to be right!
"I saw that!" Dave laughed, poking my side and winking.
"Saw what?" Shawn asked, looking between the two of us.
"Nothing," I answered with a smile, trying to convey my innocence. " But seriously Shawnie, I know being a doctor is practically in your DNA, but could like not use this moment to do a 'I told you so. '," I huffed, throwing my weight to the back of the couch again.
He and Dave just laughed, before they worked together, placing the clothes around my body- under my arms, on my forehead, even my feet.
"You know if you let one of us take a look at you, then we might actually be able to help you," Connor spoke from the door, arms crossed, it was the first time I'd seen him all day. He looked tired, but somehow there was still a teasing glint in his eyes.
"No," I answered immediately, shivering at the thought.
He sighed coming to sit on the edge of the couch.
"We're not going to do anything to hurt you honey, but you've been sick for over 24 hours now, and nothing is changing."
"Not all doctors are nasty, cold people like your previous one," Shawn added with a gentle smile, reaching to take my hand in his. "Besides, I'm your brother and I wouldn't let anyone hurt you, we all took an oath not to do harm."
At least let us check your temperature again and eat something."
I looked down ringing my fingers before looking back at them all.
"Okay, but can we watch a movie after?"
...
It was now several hours later,and the movie (Monsters, INC.) had finished, and we were all in bed, but I lay awake tossing and turning, unable to find a comfortable spot. I could feel that my fever had gotten worse, I was sweating, but freezing, I had aches and pains, and my whole body felt like lead. On top of that I now had a weird stabbing pain in my chest that was getting worse, and it was freaking me out. At first I thought it was just from all the coughing, but when it wasnt getting better after a solid half an hour of trying to ignore it, I knew something was wrong.
I got up slowly, and made my way down the hall to my brother's room, opening the door, seeing him splayed out on the bed, shirtless and snoring.
"Shawn?" I whispered, hoping to wake him, but it didn't do anything. "Shawn?" I tried again, this time shaking his arm a little bit, still nothing. Finally I was about to give up when I heard a voice from outside.
"Aimee?" Connor asked, stepping into the doorway, his face illuminated by moonlight flooding through the window.
"Con," I sighed relieved.
"What's wrong? " he asked as I came to stand next to him, him pulling me into a hug.
"My heart hurts," I hicupped into his chest. "My heart hurts," I repeated.
"Okay,calm down," he soothed, rubbing my back, and starting to lead me back downstairs, but not before shaking Shawn awake, and telling him to wake the others, all of which came into the lounge room minutes later, rubbing tiredly at their eyes.
"Now what sort of pain is it?" Connor asked,sitting next to me, and taking my pulse, as the others watched.
"It feels like I'm being stabbed here, " I told him holding my hand over my chest. Their brows furrowed.
"Does it hurt more when you're lying down or sitting? " Dave asked, coming over to me.
"Standing and lying down," I answered.
"How long has it been hurting?" Brian asked, feeling my forehead once again for the fever. "Her fever has spiked," he muttered, "Right I need to listen to your chest for a minute Poppet," Dave spoke standing and running to his room.
We sat quietly as we waited for Dave, me trying to get a hold of my emotions, as Connor sat beside me, rubbing calming circles on my back.
"I don't like this," I mumbled leaning into Shawn's side so that my face was in his neck, my voice muffled.
"You're doing great though Princess."
"But what if it's something bad?" I whispered, looking up at my brother.
"Aimee, I can't promise you anything right now, but I do know that you have four people here with you that are going to look after you. Right now, your only job is to let us do our jobs okay?" he smiled pulling me into him more tightly.
"You alright Princess?" Dave asked kneeling down beside the couch.
"No," I whispered the tears coming back as he went to place the stethoscope to my chest.
He sighed before dropping his arms and looking at me. "What are you scared of Sweetheart?" He didn't look angry, merely concerned so I told the truth.
"I don't like hospitals, or doctors," I admitted feeling stupid.
"Look Princess, I know you haven't had the best experiences with them in the past, but right now we really need to figure out what's going on. Try to remember that it's just me okay, just D, one of you're annoying big brothers. Don't think of it negatively, just think of it as we're trying to make you feel better," he suggested.
"Can you explain everything?" I asked, my voice breaking a bit.
"Of course,everything will be at your pace, okay?"
I nodded, showing him that I understood. " Is it okay, if I lift this up, so I can listen to your heart and lungs?" he asked tugging at my sweater lightly. I nodded again, holding Shawn's hand just a little bit more tightly.
"Just think, you're really quite lucky, it's not everyday that you get the Head of the Emergency Department doing a personal consult for you," Shawn said.
"That is true." I smiled despite everything.
"I know I'm the best," Dave laughed, as he stood up to listen to my lungs. "Deep breath in for me." I did as asked, waiting impatiently for it all to be over.
"There's definitely some crackling, especially on the left side of the lungs, and I'd like to double check, but it sounds to me like there's some inflammation around the heart," he spoke, allowing me to lean back.
"What, what does that mean? " I asked, my heart rate spiking again.
"If I'm right it means that the virus has effected the layers of your heart. Basically the tissue has gotten inflammed and is rubbing together. That's what is causing the pain."
"Is it dangerous?" I panicked feeling the blood drop from my face.
Connor looked at me before answering carefully. "It can be, but chances are that it's viral Pericarditis, so it should resolve within a few days with minimal intervention." he explained gently.
"Per, whaty-what?" I asked, feeling more confused than ever.
"Pericarditis, it's the medical name, " Brian explained, all of them them laughing at my sheer confusion.
"So what now?"
"Well as Dave said we need to check- get some x- rays to confirm, and while we're there we'll investigate everything else that's going on. It's almost certain you've got the flu, and that's what has caused it, so we need to get that sorted for everything else to get better," Shawn explained.
I groaned, letting my head drop into his lap, unfortunately this created the urge to cough, and with every cough that I let out, the burning, stabbing pain only intensified.
"We really need to get you to the hospital," Shawn urged seeing my discomfort, before bending down and picking me up, cradling me in his arms.
The other dashing upstairs to get into clothes other than pyjamas, and grab their badges. None of them seemed to care that they weren't in scrubs, and when I asked Shawn if it mattered he responded with "As long as we have our badges with us, it's okay. It's not mandatory to wear uniforms."
Once they were ready, they bundled me up in blankets, Shawn insisting that they protect me from the cold winter air, even for the short walk from the house to the car. I tried to be helpful, and support some of my weight as Shawn carried me to the vehicle, but I just didn't have any energy, and every time I moved, it hurt. Eventually I gave up, having tried to shuffle into my seat, twisting the wrong way and sending a shot of pain straight through my chest.
"Just let us do the work," Dave stopped me as I tried again,holding my arms, and bringing me to a holt, and so from that point on I was something of a jelly fish. Except for the shaking, I could barely stay still the whole drive, my legs trembling of their own accord, no matter how hard I tried to stop them.
"You'll be alright, " Connor commented, giving me a much needed hug as he helped me out of the car 20 minutes later.
By now I was feeling straight up petrified, and the worst part about it was, all four of the guys knew it. And there was absolutely nothing I could do.
"Come on," Shawn whispered, leading me slowly towards the hospital entrance.
Inside, they led me straight past the admissions desk, briefly filling one of the nurses in as we made our way into the room, Shawn helping me gently onto the single bed.
"Not anyone I don't know," I begged, holding onto Shawn, as the others moved around the room, collecting things and setting up equipment. I tried not to pay attention as I could already feel the anxious knots forming.
"You know we're not meant to be treating you Princess, at least not here, we're family," he responded, kissing my hand, while grabbing a gown from a draw and passing it to me, turning around so I could get changed,the others not paying attention.
"Actually Shawn," Dave spoke once I was dressed in the hideous cloth, "The pit is in overdrive, I had five new admissions just in the last half hour of my shift, and the other doctors are overloaded, I really don't think anyone will mind, and if they do they can take it up with me as the Head of the Department. She needs to be seen to, especially if our suspicions are right, " Dave interrupted, patting my arm gently.
"Aimee?" Brian called, getting my attention. "We'll take this really slowly hon, but we need to hook you up to a couple of things, okay?" I nodded, managing a smile as they went about starting to attach everything. A blood pressure and heart rate monitor, which I knew, a mask, which Shawn was quick to explain that I needed as I tried to remove it. "Leave it there baby, you could really do with the extra oxygen at the moment. You're heart is racing, and your blood pressure is also a little higher than it should be. Heart rate 120, BP 130/90," he called to the others as he watched the monitors that were now displaying my vitals.
"That's a little higher than it should be Aimee, just try to relax, I know it's scary, and I know that all the lights, and the noises won't be helping, but I promise you, you're in the best place right now, " Connor promised, coming over, and warming his stethoscope up in his hands before placing it against my chest.
The machines attached to me started beeping, as my heart rate picked up again, only making me feel more anxious and agitated.The guys seemed unfazed though, Brian quickly shutting them off with no trouble. " It's just an alert to tell us that you're vitals are higher than they should be," he explained when he noticed me watching his every move.
"Aimee?" Connor called, resting his hand under my chin, and turning my head gently so that my focus was on him again. "Ignore all that sweetheart,the guys will sort that out okay, all I need you to do is focus on Luke and I okay?" he smiled when I nodded, before helping me to sit up. "Breathe in for me Aimee, and out, and again," he spoke as I took shaky breathes, holding Shawn's hand in a death grip.
"There's definitely some wheezing there. I'd like to get a chest x-ray, and start you on fluids," he told me as he moved the stethoscope away, and allowed me to lay back again. "I'll order the x- ray now, you should be able to have it done in the next half an hour," he added as he went to the computer in the corner of the room, and pressed a few buttons. "Done, they'll page us when they're ready for you," he smiled.
"Right, is it okay if I have your left hand Princess?" Dave asked stepping up to the side of the bed. I only realised what he was dining when I saw the tray that he had placed down next to my side.
"No," I cried, panicked, realising that it was a needle, and other equipment, necessary for an I.V. "Can't you just give me something to make me better?" I asked desperately wanting to avoid an needles at all costs.
He sighed, taking in my stressed appearance." Three days ago an anti- viral may have worked, but somebody decided to be a difficult patient," Shawn looked at me pointedly as we all laughed."but now," he continued "not so much. Even with the anti-viral your body would have struggled. So now that the virus has taken hold your body really needs the extra help. Fluids included, " he explained, as Dave picked up the wipe from the metal bowl, wiping my hand down. I couldn't help the shudder that ran through my body, I had always hated the smell of hospital disinfect, and the sterilization wipes were no better.
"Sorry, he murdered as he finished, and chucked the wipe into the bin next to the bed. " Ready?" he asked, looking to me as he positioned my hand and opened the packet housing the needle.
" Do I really have to?" I asked, looking up at my brother, hoping he would help me out. Instead, he rubbed my back before agreeing with Dave.
"Sweetheart, you're in pain baby, this will help with it okay. It'll give you some relief,listen to me. Take a breath, listen to my voice. 'll sit up here and hold you. It'll be over in a second and then that's the worst over. Okay. Dave's a pro," he insisted, gesturing for me to move over so he could hop up onto the bed. He smiled encouraging allowing me to snuggle in.
"Don't cry Princess, " Dave murmured,wiping softly at my face with a tissue to dry the tears that were now falling. "On three, " he warned, causing me to bury my head in Shawn's neck. "One, two, three," I felt the pinch, of it breaking my skin, but it was nowhere near what I had been expecting, and I found myself looking up in surprise.
"Not so bad right," Shawn laughed.
"The expectations are always worse than the reality," Dave added, as he attached the tubing, and removed the tray from the bed. "You're all set little one, " he told me as he finished hookingme up to the fluids, and pain relief, before kissing my head.
For the next half an hour we sat in relative silence, all exhausted given that it was still so early. Finally Connor got the call to say that they were ready for me at radiology, Dave offered to take me so the others could get food, and Shawn could sort my admission papers. At first I wasn't too happy at the idea, but when Dave promised that he wouldn't leave my side I relaxed, and let him transfer me to a wheel chair, leading me down the maze of corridors.
"D," I asked as we came to a stop outside a lift.
"Yes? " he asked, bending down so that he could hear me more easily.
"Why do Cheetahs have spots?"
He didn't answer me for a minute, but then he started laughing, "Oh my goodness, I think the pain relief is starting to take effect."
" I feel fine now." I shrugged as the doors opened and he wheeled me in, still chuckling.
"I bet you do Princess, I bet you do."
The x- rays were quick and easy, only taking about ten minutes, after which Dave took me straight back up to the room.
"Someone's pain meds have taken affect!" he announced as he stopped just inside the door, and helped me to my bed.
Brian looked up from where he was sitting on the small chair in the corner doing paperwork and smiled. " I can see that, her eyes are huge, how much did you give her?" he laughed, standing up, and coming over to the side of the bed.
"What do you mean? " I asked as Brian pulled a light from his pocket.
"You're pupils, they're extremely dilated. "
"What are you doing?" Shawn asked as he and Connor walked in.
"She's high on pain meds," Dave explained with a chuckle. "We may as well do the exam now, while you're not in too much discomfort."
"Okay," Weirdly I didn't feel as nervous as I did before.
"Wow, those meds got you good baby, this is the most relaxed you've been in a medical setting, ever!" Shawn laughed taking my hand as he stopped next to me. " I didn't know pain meds effected you like this."
"Alright " Dave tapped my leg bringing my attention back. "I just want to check your heart and lungs first little lady, can you lean forward?" I nodded allowing him to do what he had to do.
"There is some slight wheezing, but other than that and the inflammation everything sounds perfect. " he smiled. "Your heart rate has come down too," he noted looking to the monitor. "That's good! So what else besides your fever, and the chest pain are you feeling?"
"What?"
"What other symptoms do you have? " Connor clarified, standing next to Dave.
"Cough, runny nose, sore throat, chills, head aches, fatigue." I listed, laughing slightly when the guys mouths dropped a bit in shock.
"Why didn't you just let us help you?" Shawn asked, clearly exasperated.
I shrugged, "I don't know, I guess, I'd rather just deal with it on my own. Or that's what I did think until it started hurting," I whined, "It feels like someone's stabbing me!"
"Let me have a look at your ears, nose and throat okay Princess," Dave spoke, ignoring the last bit of what I said. I was glad though because I just wanted to feel better. And the sooner he figured out what was wrong, the sooner he could make that happen.
"Well it's official Princess, you've got yourself a nasty case of the flu," he announced with what I thought was a rather unnecessary smile as he finished looking at my throat. "It's one of the worst ones I've seen in a while, I don't know how you're breathing through your nose, at all, or eating for that matter. Your throat is red."
"Yeah well, I'm not feeling that great right now, trust me," I grumbled. "I just wish my chest would stop hurting. "It stopped, and then it started again. "
"Radiology just sent through your scans, it's definitely pericarditis," Brian replied from the corner, causing me to groan.
"This sucks!" I whined, flopping back against the bed, "and it hurts."
"I know baby," Shawn spoke, clearly sympathetic.
"I'll put some more pain meds in your I.V okay, it should help, mbut really all we can do is relieve the pain, and keep you on bed rest until the virus runs it's course," he spoke gently as he readjusted the blankets for me, and put some more stuff in my I.V. "That should take too long to work. "
"Hop back in with me, I'm cold," I whined, pulling his arm so that he moved closer to the bed. I felt like all I was doing was whining, but I just felt crappy.
"That'll be the fever, " Brian nodded. "You've had stuff for it though, so we just need to let it do it's thing. Provided it doesn't get too high, it actually helps your body get rid of the virus. "
"The beds barely big enough for one," Shawn laughed, still focused on me.
"I don't care," I whined continuing to pull at his arm.
"Fine," he sighed, hoping in next to me, and allowing me to curl up once more.
"So what have you learned from this whole thing?" Shawn asked smirking from beside me as I struggled to keep my eyes open half an hour later.
I glared at him, causing all of them to laugh, "Go on, what have you learned?" he asked tickling my side.
" I don't know if I can say it, it hurts too much," I laughed, going along with the joke. He pouted.
"Hey no fair!" I argued, he knew that I couldn't resist it when he pouted, it had been that way since we were kids. "Fine, I should have listened to you, cause you know best," I grumbled, holding my chest as if I was wounded.
"Was that really so hard?" Connor laughed watching from where he was packing up excess wiring, placing them back into their relevant draws.
"Yes, it was incredibly painful," I sassed back.
"Truth hurts princess!" Shawn laughed, pulling me into a hug.
"That it does," I agreed, resting my head on his shoulder again and closing my eyes. Never again would I be so stubborn. But there was no need for them to know that, not yet anyway.
#shawn mendes#shawn mendes imagine#shawn#shawn mendes fanfic#shawn mendes imagines#shawn peter raul mendes#shawn mendes blurb#doctor!shawn#mendes triplets#werewolf!shawn
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My Writing Advice
Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to be a writer. I vividly remember writing stories about my dog way back when I was seven years old. And when I was eleven I was bold enough to think I could write my own novel and sent drafts to my older cousin for editing. Writing was my life, my escape, my passion. And it still is. But I haven’t always had a good relationship with it.
When I turned thirteen, I struggled severely with undiagnosed depression and anxiety. High school was terrible for me. All that passion I felt for writing? Gone. It wasn’t until I was older, that I was diagnosed with depression and began taking antidepressants. At the time, I was attending college to become a nurse, which was literally just a crapshoot because I didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do with my life. Finally though, I came to the realization again that English, or writing, was more my passion. So I changed majors.
I graduated with a bachelor’s degree in English literature with a focus in creative writing. Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Wow! You probably wrote a lot during college!” Wrong. While I did write a lot of thesis papers, did a short stint in poetry, I think I wrote one short story for my fiction workshop. But other than that? Nothing. I don’t know when it happened, but I developed a severe fear of writing.
What is a fear of writing, you ask? Honestly, I don’t know. All I know is, I would write something and get literal anxiety over it because I hated it that much. I would agonize over every little detail until I was ripping my hair out. I despised my writing, something I used to be so passionate about, it was now something that caused me great distress.
Why am I sharing this with you? Well, as some of you know, I am now a very active fanfic writer for ereri. I update roughly two fics a week and sometimes I sprinkle a one shot in there if I’m feeling sassy. So how did someone like me, someone who used to agonize over my writing, go from hating every detail of it, to sometimes pumping out roughly 10k words a week and actually enjoy my writing?
While I am no expert on writing, I want to share my advice, regardless. I’ve come into contact with so many great writers who I know struggle with similar things that I once did, and sometimes still do (I’m far from perfect). Here are some tips I have when it comes to writing. I hope it helps:
Get in the right headspace. Clear your area of any and all distractions. Lock yourself out of social media, turn off your phone, kick your significant other out of the house— whatever that looks like for you, just create the perfect space for you to create. Any distractions could easily pull you out of your creative mindset and ruin your flow. I personally always work in my living room, away from my desktop because I just know I’ll play video games if I try to write in my office. I find the perfect playlist for the scene I’m writing (I seriously have so many playlists for writing. If you don’t have Spotify premium for playlist making, I seriously suggest you get it), sometimes put a Pinterest aesthetic board up in the background, and just get to it. My fiancé knows when I’m writing not to bother me and he stays in the other room. Make sure you establish clear boundaries with your housemates when you’re writing. Interruptions can sometimes not be pretty.
Once you’re in the right headspace, JUST WRITE! Seriously, I know it sounds like a no brainer, but it’s a lot easier said than done. Whatever is in your head, just write it out. It doesn’t matter if it’s good or bad, silly or irrelevant. Just write it. Writing and editing are two very different beasts, and when you’re in writing mode you need to focus ONLY on writing. Again, I know this sounds very obvious, but I know from experience that this is much harder than it sounds. My best suggestion is to find a writing partner to do sprints with. Set a timer for 20 minutes and see how much you can write in that time frame. When you’re writing with a friend, it becomes a challenge to see who can write the most in that 20 minute time. You’d be surprised what you can do in that short amount of time. And what you write might actually be amazing! I know I’ve surprised myself on more than one occasion writing like this.
Keep editing and writing separate. I mentioned this earlier but it’s so important that you do this. Our brains work differently when we edit and write. When we write, we put our heads into a creative mindset where we are inspired to create and expand on new ideas. However, when we edit, our brain slips into an analytical mindset which is great for critiquing and finding errors but TERRIBLE for creation! That’s why you MUST keep these two things separate. Believe me, I know this is hard to do. I used to be SO SO SO bad at this. I would write a paragraph, go back and read it, edit it, and rip it apart. My confidence would be shot, and I wouldn’t be able to write anything else for that session. Eventually, I forced myself out of this bad habit with lots and lots of practice (again, writing sprints are AMAZING for this!). You might think that what you’re writing isn’t any good and you might be itching to go back and read it and fix it. But I assure it, it’s probably A LOT better than you think it is. Leave it alone. Let it sit. And when you’ve finished writing your chapter, let it sit even longer. Don’t touch it for another 12 hours. I’m serious. When you have a fresh pair of eyes and your brain is in the analytical mindset, THAT’S when you should be editing.
Always carry something with you to write your ideas down. Whether it’s your phone or notebook and pen, always be ready to write down an idea! Sometimes a juicy idea or thought will come to you at an unexpected time like in the shower, while you’re driving, or while you’re trying to fall asleep. That idea WANTS to be written down! Whenever I’m laying in bed, thinking about my stories, I’ll grab my phone and write down a line or phrase or idea that pops into my head. It might not make sense, but my brain is trying to get it out on paper so that’s exactly what I do. I might not use it, but at least it’s there if it does end up being good!
Find a friend/beta reader to read your stuff. And I’m not just saying this for editing purposes. No, I’m saying this for confidence purposes. I’ve always struggled with self-doubt. Like I said before, I struggle severely with depression and anxiety, and sometimes I get into really bad slumps with my writing where I think I’m the worst writer there ever was. My imposter syndrome flares up and I wonder what the hell I’m even doing with myself. Luckily, I have a friend and beta reader who refuses to let me falter when times are hard. And maybe we don’t beta read each other’s works in a traditional sense (I don’t really know how a normal beta reader behaves, to be honest). What I do know is, my friend will leave interactive comments throughout my whole chapter, commenting on what she likes, what she thinks works really well or what could be better. Having her interact with my chapter and tell me what is good and what isn’t, significantly boosts my confidence and makes me feel loads better about my writing. Honestly, if it wasn’t for her, I probably would’ve given up on writing by now. But it’s reassuring knowing my number one fan is always rooting for me on the sidelines. Get yourself a fan that roots for you, too.
There’s no such thing as too many ideas. I always hear people say ‘I have too many ideas. I don’t know what to do with them’. I know what you can do with them… WRITE THEM DOWN, SILLY. If you have inspiration for an idea, WRITE IT. I know you might feel like you have too many projects and that might stress you out. And if you are stressed by the amount of wips you have then maybe you should set some aside. But if you feel a great amount of inspiration for a new idea when you already have another idea in the works, write it anyway. Whatever you do, do not squander that inspiration! That idea wants to be written. Even if you don’t think you’ll do anything with it, it’s great practice and if the inspiration is there, it should be relatively easy to get the idea out on paper. I’ve written multiple chapter fics before because I had so much inspiration for the idea and then never posted them. I was so overcome with inspiration that I just NEEDED to write them. So I did. Maybe I’ll go back to them and finish them one day when the inspiration strikes me. And if I don’t, that’s okay. It’s good practice to listen to your inspiration and use it as it comes. Stifling your inspiration will only hurt you in the long run.
That’s pretty much all the advice I’ve got. This might be a little rambly and I’m sorry for that. I literally was just thinking about this last night and wanted to get my thoughts out so that I could maybe help some people that are in similar situations that I once was a year ago. If you want to write, but you don’t think you can, just do it anyway. Writing takes practice. It’s not something you can master on the first go. It took me almost a year to find my writing voice and I’m still developing it as I go. Don’t get discouraged. If this is something you want, you can do it! Just write!
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