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moosoobi · 3 years

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Confessions

In the night: Chapter 2

T.Jeff- Hamilton: the musical

Y/N can’t hold all her secrets. She’s tired of hiding. The people deserve the truth. Here’s her confession: the one she should’ve told us long ago

I started to write this chapter the day after I finished chapter 1, yet before the first chapter was even published (time management queen). As I’m typing this message, I’m currently distracting myself from finals LMAO. Anyway, I wanted to finish this chapter as soon as possible to give some explanation of the events in the previous chapter, so I hope I do exactly that. I’m still manifesting that I articulate through this story smoothly, please give me feedback <3

MC (aka Y/N’s) POV

Modern au

Word Count: 5.4k

A few unrealistic realities, but I’m working with what I got

This chapter will most likely answer many questions about chapter 1

THIS CHAPTER OCCURS AT THE SAME TIME AS CHAPTER 1! all events in this chapter line up with the events of chapter 1

Disclaimers:

TW: violence, abuse, mentions of blood, themes of injury, itty bitty angst?

photo not mine <3

If you have any questions/concerns about this story, DONT BE SHY TO ASK ME! This is my first time writing a whole series, so I apologize if the plot gets confusing.

-Now Playing: Broken Clocks by SZA-

Where to start…

My attention was taken from Professor Washington’s lecture the moment I felt a pair of eyes attempting to pierce a hole in the back of my head. As I look back, I realize that it’s no one other than Thomas Jefferson, the spoiled francophile, or so people like the whisper, but gossip’s not my thing.

Upon being called out by Professor Washington, I couldn’t hold in my giggle as Thomas’s head ducks down in embarrassment. I suppose he sure knows how to lighten the demeanor in the lecture hall; It was a nice excuse to take my eyes off of Washington’s low-quality power-point presentation, but I appreciate that the man is trying.

This class feels like it’ll last forever, and I contemplate if I could just perish in my seat at this very instant, yet Thomas’s presence seems to make it worthwhile. I don’t know him that much, or maybe at all for that matter, but since he’s been seen with a Schuyler, the locals around here can’t seem to keep their mouths shut about him.

From what I’ve heard, he’s another silver-spoon raised boy representing Virginia up here in New York. A few scholarships here and there, as well as a trip to France for a semester. I don’t see what all the fuss is about; He seems like a pretty cool person, probably has an exciting life, and isn’t throwing away his shot. It’s odd, even with parents to piggyback off of, Thomas is very similar to a certain orphan I know.

“Class is dismissed” Is all I heard from Professor Washington’s mouth before that obnoxious but relieving bell sounds off.

Desperate to get out of this class, I hurry to put my stationery items into my burgundy-magenta backpack. You’d think after those turbulent years of high school that college would motivate me for fancier bags, but I can’t say no to my favorite color. It’s simple, won’t bring attention to my presence, unlike every other decision I’ve made in my life.

After I finally finished packing up, I can’t wait to take a breath of the fresh, polluted air of New York City. I quickly spotted my roommate's car within the crowd of vehicles next to the sidewalk. He’s on time, as always, to pick me up from class, and I’m grateful that he sacrifices his time for me, but it’s not like he had a choice. I toss my bag into the trunk, surely crinkling a few important papers. Upon reaching the door of his expensive car, my roommate greets me with joy to see me.

“How was class, Cherie?”

Lafayette, my roommate, shoots a smile at me, his white teeth are almost blinding, but he always says I’m exaggerating.

“Boring as always, but I’m still here, sadly” I say as I hop into the front seat of Lafayette’s car. He pouts in my direction

“Ahh, c’mon, don’t be like that.” Once he acknowledges the buckling of my seatbelt, he begins to power up the car. “C’est la vie, Y/N” I roll my eyes, my hatred for him grows just a little more every time he says that.

“Can we get McDonald’s?” I attempt to change the subject, earning a small chuckle from him. He prepares to drive off “You know I can't say no to you and your American junk food”

And so we begin to drive off

Lafayette and I indeed have a bit of history together. After I got mistakenly involved with Alexander and his clique, Lafayette was the next best (or worse) person to walk into my life. He’s sweet, charming, probably all the things Americans are not; the gentleman hails from France. Yet he’s so much more than that.

Ever since I caught his eye at that obnoxious high school party, he and I hit the ground running. Disclosing the events which took place in his-

our bedroom won’t solve the problem, but the stubble on his jaw and the way he holds the steering wheel with one hand nearing my thigh reminds me of the unresolved sexual tension between the both of us.

I’ve only been living in his apartment for a few months, an idea he proposed when I mentioned my dreadful rent. A nice view, nice coffee maker, and nice bedsheets were more than enough to convince me, but I know there’s more to that “nice” list that I shouldn’t disclose.

Though I know his intentions were good, I’m sure he invited me into his abode to protect me from Alex.

Since I began to band with Alex and his gang, Alexander’s been strict about getting me home on time. It wasn’t only because I was a helpless high school student, but also to prevent me from ratting him and his group out to the authorities.

Upon joining Alex's posse, a strict curfew has been placed on me, only to ensure I stay safe at night, or perhaps to make sure I don’t betray them.

Moving in with Lafayette made following this time limitation easier for me, especially since he volunteers to drive me home or takes a stand for me. If the unfortunate event of my arrival past my ‘bedtime’ timer occurs, Alexander ensures I pay the price.

Speaking of arrivals, Lafayette passes me a box of hot, salty fries and a smile spreads across my face. His eyes visibly soften as my entire demeanor changes.

“Have I ever told you that you’re the best person ever?” I spilled my thoughts while stuffing my mouth with fries. He lightly chuckles, watching me.

“Maybe a couple of times..” He prepares to drive off again “...too many times, actually.” he shot a wink at me.

Blood didn’t have any time to rush to my cheeks before I could slap the side of his shoulder, causing him to whine in discomfort. I sigh before returning my focus to the steaming fries in front of me. The tension grows, and so does the silence between us. Eager to break the tension, I propose an idea.

“Let’s go home?” we turn to each other at the same time

“Oui.”

---

I enter Professor Washington’s lecture hall and my attention is driven to the two curly-headed Virginians. I watch in secondhand embarrassment as Thomas Jefferson and his friend playfully argue in front of the entire class, seemingly a heated debate of the greatness of Mac and Cheese. One argues on behalf of the gooey pasta, while the other simultaneously retorts with a mix of “you’re so stupid” and “God help me”.

Feeling a rush of confidence and suaveness, my brain urges my body to intervene in their conversation. Maybe it was to make new friends, or perhaps to stop the class from staring at their dumb dispute, but I swiftly walk over to them. The next few words to come out of my mouth fell into place oh-so-perfectly.

“Hey, can I sit here?”

Upon sitting in between the two Virginians, they introduce themselves. The calmer, self-collected man among the two introduced himself as James Madison, while the bolder, upbeat man introduced himself as no other than Thomas Jefferson. Both of them seemed happy that I interrupted and decided to reach out to them, maybe one was a tad more excited than the other.

And ever since then, Professor Washington can’t seem to split up our trio. From childish jokes and a few inappropriate inferences, Thomas and James make great company. The idiotic smile that spreads across Thomas’s face whenever he’s capable of making James and I break our silence during class would become more annoying than Lafayette saying “C’est la vie” whenever I make a poor life decision.

Nevertheless, Thomas and James dangerously remind me of Alexander and his goons. The abundant amount of self-praise and cocky remarks said by both Thomas and Alexander is almost astronomical. In the case of Thomas and Alexander’s meeting, I’m sure they’d be the best of friends. But likewise, I could also envision the two attempting to tear each other's heads off, the chaotic clashing of two powerful minds.

They always know what to say and when to say it. I’ve never met anyone as clever as Thomas and James, and they’re even worse when they’re together.

“‘ ‘s Adams here today? Washington told me to turn in my papers t’ him.” Thomas whispers as he eases into his chair, Washington’s booming voice seems to become background noise to us

“Is he ever?” I reply, attempting not to giggle at my own response “I haven’t seen him since Washington initially introduced him to the class.”

“Maybe he’s jus’ sick or somethin’. Kinda reminds me of you, James'' His head of curls turns to stare down James, in which James replies by rolling his eyes

“He can stay home, he does the same amount of work there anyways.” James cleverly retorted.

And that seemed to be our last straw before bursting out in laughter. Thomas’s body flung forward as he laughed his head off, James ducking his head to hide his glee behind his laptop, and I quickly slap a hand over my mouth to prevent anyone around us from drawing suspicion. But apparently, Washington wasn’t having our disguises.

“Can the three of you even tell me what I just said?” Washington turns around from the board to scan the crowd, his eagle eyes find us quickly

The silence was all we could emit, and soon enough, He turned back to his lesson. I sigh with relief; the last thing I need is to get kicked out of a class I don’t even pay for.

…

...

“Washington sure got a shiny ass head. D’you think he uses shampoo and conditioner?” Whispered Thomas as he leans over to me

And just like that, we’re faced with the same struggle all over again.

—-

Lafayette adjusted the hot pan, erupting a few sizzles. The wall clock ticked, the hour arm froze pointing to the “11” written in roman numerals. Lafayette and I decided to agree on a home-cooked meal, and although it’s too late for an average dinner, yet too early to be defined as a midnight snack, I’m sure Lafayette’s cooking will satisfy me for the night.

“Y/NN, would you prefer salt on your omelet? Or did you decide to be healthy tonight?” He said holding a salt shaker in the air to steal my focus from the swirling red liquid in my glass.

My head lifts to meet his eyes. I tilt my head, the wine causing me to ponder for a little longer than I should’ve. He continues to stare at me, holding in a laugh, before I force myself to nod.

“Yeah.. a little won’t hurt” I hear him chuckle at my drunken dialect, but I know the French man isn’t about to lecture me about English “Your wish is my command.”

I watch as he conducts the kitchen perfectly. He knows where everything is, exactly what to add into the sizzling pan, maybe even the exact second to take the meal off the flame.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of monarchy?” the sarcasm was evident in my tone “but I appreciate the submission” I shot him a playful wink, to which he responds with a pompous smirk

A few sips of wine later, I recognize notification that has been staring back at me for hours.

1 Message from Thomas

A text from Thomas? And I’m barely seeing this now? I silently scold myself for giving into the wine before opening the message.

“Thomas: Hey this is Thomas from class, wanna come study with us at the library sometime?”

My eyes become glued to my phone. It was certainly necessary for me to reread Thomas’s text, I was unsure if the alcohol was beginning to make me see odd things, but I assured myself I was correct.

I could feel the blush spread across my face. Maybe it’s just the wine taking control, or maybe it’s the butterflies in my stomach forming every time I reread his message. A harmless invite, perhaps evoked from Thomas due to James stroking his ego, but I know James’ wouldn’t promote such a bold, straight-forward message. Though Thomas is known for his meticulous confidence and certainty, a message this simple could be notably deceiving.

But a little socializing won’t damage my self-respect. “Be bold, Y/N” is what I used to tell myself at the beginning of the semester, and what do I have to lose? I begin to type my reply.

“Y/N: yeah I’m down :) just send a time and place and I’ll be on my way”

Sent.

My introspection was soon interrupted by the screeching plate being slid in my direction by Lafayette, the steam circulating the meal

“Y/N, Mangeons.” My head comes up from my phone, my eyes meet his eyes momentarily.

“Thanks, Laf.” I reply before taking a fork from him and digging into the steaming meal ahead of me. Lafayette’s cooking never disappoints. Ever.

My body couldn’t help but pick up my phone every few minutes to respond to Thomas’s messages, Though they were just the details of the hangout-offer he previously proposed, I felt enclosed in my little bubble while texting him. Those few moments of interaction with him somehow made my day better. I’m sure even Lafayette could see my radiating energy, but I’m not sure how he took it.

We’re technically not a couple; a few hookups and moving in together don't make us an official couple, right?

“Merci, Laffy.” I watched as he visibly cringed at my poor attempt at french. “Let’s just stick to our mother tongues, angel.” He retorted. I laughed it off, yet inside his reply left a scratch on my pride.

---

Another class of absolute foolery and childish inferences, and I can’t help but laugh as Thomas, James, and I exit the lecture hall. The New-York cold hits us harshly, but being about a month into this semester, students already know what to expect.

It was indeed embarrassing, running to Lafayette’s car to remind him of your library study session.

“Alright, I’ll pick you up before your curfew, okay?” He asked with one hand on the wheel. His faux-leather jacket contorting around his toned arms made it difficult not to remember the moments they shared around midnight. The imagery of their candle-lit room appearing in her head as he sat at the wheel stopped her from replying for a moment.

“Y-Yeah sounds great. You’re the best, you know that?” She thanked him for sacrificing his time to make sure she arrives home on time.

“You remind me all the time.” He sneaks in a small wink between his sentences “I’ll see you tonight, Cherie”

Y/N smiled before turning around to prance over to her friends. Y/N heard the faint sounds of Lafayette driving off, sighing in relief

After briefly explaining my situation to the boys, we quickly head over to the library.

A woman in a coral-pink blazer and pants set is waiting impatiently at a table she rented out just for us. “What in the world took you guys so long?” She pressured for an answer

“C’mon Angie, that wasn’t even ten minutes.” Thomas rolled his eyes before removing his backpack and opening a chair for Y/N. Real smooth, Thomas, I can’t lie. He looked over to me, seeing stars in my eyes as I realize I’m standing next to the oldest Schuyler.

“You’re-” She interrupted me with a smile, sticking out her hand to shake mine

“Angelica Schuyler. And you?” I swear her name sounds familiar. I’m sure I’ve heard it around but I just can't place it. I do see her on my social media feed from time to time, and I must admit, she looks even more heavenly in person.

“Y/N L/N.” My hand meets hers in a firm handshake.

“Nice to meet you.”

—-

At first, I thought nothing of it.

Though Lafayette’s text at 7:30 (on the dot) did push me out of my zone, I did appreciate his promise to me.

Thomas on the other hand seemed disturbed by my sudden leave, but it’s not like he’d understand. Alexander would literally kill me if I were home late.

But Thomas and I would continue to hang out. His evening texts would slowly become a weekly routine. Whether it was a scary movie or an ice cream date for just the two of us, he always found a way to spend time with me.

“Don’t tell me that mint chocolate chip is actually your favorite flavor, darlin’.” He adjusted his position on the park bench and raised an eyebrow, his gaze focused on the green ice cream atop my ice cream cone “You might make me regret takin’ you out tonight” he chuckled and I couldn’t help but smile

“You know you love me” I jokingly retorted, scooping part of my ice cream with my tongue, and relaxing against the bench.

It’s very rare to get to relax like this. Not only am I a fully-fledged college student, but also one of Alexander’s goons. The weekends are merely just ‘weekdays: the sequel’, but add forbidden literature and alcohol to that equation.

I look back up to Thomas, seeing his disgusted face. “Wait.. are you actually against mint chocolate chip ice cream?” I cocked an eyebrow towards him

He shrugged before chuckling “I recall telling you of my unfortunate arguments while visiting England..”

“..so what does mint chocolate chip ice cream have to do with your political upheavals in a foreign country?”

He smirked in an ‘all knowing’ manner. “Well, Darlin, if you did your research—“

“—You’ve got to be kidding me—“I start to wonder why I even asked

“—you’d learn that the monstrosity in your ice cream cone, mint chocolate chip, originated in England.” He completed his statement with triumph “Ever since my disagreements in England, I swore to despise such a concoction until the day I die.”

I looked at him like he was crazy. “I can’t believe you did your research on English creations. You’re so dramatic sometimes” I respond

“Hey, I wouldn’t be a Jefferson if I wasn’t.” He stared back to his cone, the mesmerizing ice cream almost reflecting himself back at him.

We shared silence for a moment. Words were unnecessary when we were together.

“I suppose..” Jefferson started “...I might be able to tolerate mint chocolate chip ice cream, but only for you, though.” He turned towards my direction

My eyes soon met his. “Well, I’m honored to be your exemption, Jefferson.” I smile with triumph, recognizing my effect on him.

He swiftly takes my hand, his skin feels burning compared to mine. Our eyes remain connected as he dips his head down to kiss the back of my hand. I attempt to hide the fact that my heart stopped beating for a moment, but the breath hitching in my throat wouldn’t help me at all.

“Let’s drop the formalities, Darlin, you can call me Thomas now.” My hand remained between his. I try my best to keep my hand still, wanting to marinate in this moment forever.

A new feeling courses through my body. Something unfamiliar. Perhaps it’s the charm of a Southern Gentleman. Maybe the feeling of being treated right for the first time, something I’ve never experienced from anyone.

What have I ever done to deserve this chivalrous kindness?

‘What a gentleman’ I repeat to myself in my mind. What makes him so different from the others?

From a simple kiss, I suddenly crave more.

More than the unresolved sexual tension between Lafayette and I.

More than I was ever granted the opportunity to.

Maybe ‘more’ is what I deserve.

My mind bleeds with the thought of Lafayette, but Thomas seems like he has so much more to offer. What if I do deserve to be happy? I may not have earned it, but who gets to declare my right to happiness? I was once happy with Lafayette, but the times have changed

He’s just not him. He’s just not Thomas.

---

But no matter how much I enjoyed spending time with Jefferson himself, I was always the first one to leave. I had to.

I remember the way his smile would fall at the sound of Lafayette’s car horn.

The way his jaw tenses whenever my phone vibrates across the table

Whenever Lafayette came to pick me up, I also can’t help but feel a part of my soul crack within me.

“I’ll see you this weekend?” He kisses the back of my hand once more in an attempt to savor this moment, continuing to maintain eye contact.

“I’ll try, Thomas. Not sure if I’m busy.” I sigh with fatigue. “But I’ll let you know.”

“Alright. Get home safe, darlin’” I hear him stand from the park bench as I wander to Lafayette’s car, his eyes following my figure.

I hop into Lafayette’s car before taking one last glance in Thomas’s direction, watching as his figure begins to walk in the opposite direction that our car was heading.

“Ahh, Y/N. Don’t tell me you’re cheating on me” his sarcastic tone wouldn’t pierce deep enough.

I speak without thinking. “I do recall you claiming that you and I were never a couple, remember Laf?” My change in demeanor was certain to shut him up. And he did.

He’s just not him. He’s just not Thomas.

I remained turned away from Lafayette as we drove through the city. The memories built between Lafayette and I constantly falls like a house of cards, but I prefer to avoid the subject.

Lafayette felt otherwise, yet respected my choice.

He was the first to speak.

“Alexander needs me for a transport this weekend.” He stated, “I’m not sure when I’ll get back, so it’s very important that you get back from whatever plans you have before your curfew.” He takes a glance over to me and briefly meets my eyes

“Don’t test the waters, Y/N.”

Ah yes, the monthly literature transportation of Alexander’s gang.

The Notorious Sons of Liberty.

A popular group roaming the streets of New York. But instead ironically of selling drugs or performing homicide, they produce and sell illegal, banned literature and disperse them to the highest bidders.

How else do you think I pay for college?

Although gang violence isn’t really their thing, that doesn’t mean they’re not in possession of such weaponry and devices. I’ve never seen anyone take literature as seriously as they do.

They’re also known for their bold publicity stunts, which are indeed fun to watch from a nearby coffee shop. Watching Alexander, Lafayette, and some other friends, John and Herc, run from the authorities on a Sunday afternoon, accidentally laughing at the sight of John tripping over his own feet, Lafayette mouthing ‘help us out’ in my direction. Very entertaining.

On the contrary, their security on me has become tighter and tighter. I know they worry for the gang’s reputation over my safety, but it feels nice to imagine having a battalion of book-worm gang members watching over you.

“I know, I know. You guys can stop treating me like a kid” I attempt to contain a giggle to portray my seriousness.

He takes a glance at me before returning his attention to the road. “You cannot say that until you have another way home other than me.” He sighed rather loudly

“Be careful, or I might do just that, Lafayette.”

---

I sipped on wine and ate cheese at Thomas’s place without a care in the world on a Saturday night. Of course, I had to accept Thomas’s offer, I never knew how to say no to him.

Jefferson has sure been taking his sweet time to put a title on us. Now, I’m no philosopher when it comes to dating, but Ice cream at the park, fancy dinners, and wine and cheese sure sound romantic.

My night was going well. All until the 7:30 alarm on my phone rang, and before I knew it, everything began to go downhill

[events of chapter 1]

And next thing I knew, the cold New York air slapped my face, following the harsh slam of the apartment door.

As my adrenaline began to settle down, panic rushed through my body.

Fuck. At this rate, I won’t be home until after my curfew. Although my immediate instinct was to sprint my way home, those thoughts were quickly followed by the idea of passing out within five minutes. My apartment isn’t too far, but being fueled by wine and cheese doesn’t sound like the best idea.

“Don’t test the waters, Y/N” echoed throughout my head.

I begin to walk down the street before whipping out my phone to contact an Uber.

The small talk produced between my driver and I worked a bit to calm myself down, but that would all change the moment I walked through my apartment door.

Once I turn back around from locking the door, I’m met with exactly what I didn’t want to see at this very moment.

Lafayette stood staring at me, his lips pursed with anxiousness, recognizing my significantly late arrival.

Hercules, another good friend I’ve met through the sons of liberty, stood beside Lafayette. His mouth hung open in shock as he also recognized my mistake.

John, the group’s smallest yet mightiest, leaned against the wall, perhaps planning my fate right in front of me

And none other than Alexander Hamilton himself, sipping scotch on my couch, similarly to how I was not too long ago at Thomas’s place. The glare on his face quickly reminded me that I was in big trouble.

“Y/N, I thought I told you—“ Lafayette began but was quickly interrupted

“You’re late.” He swirled his drink before standing up. The clock ticked, and the hour hand notably passed the 8:30 symbol. I was not getting out of this one.

Although I feared for the following moments, I attempted to contain my emotions within myself. I kept my straight face for the time being. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me.

“I’m well aware.” That came out of my mouth a little too harsh for my liking

“May I remind you that being out past your curfew could severely damage our image.”

I saw John look over to Alex from the corner of my eye. The air became thinner if that were even possible, and I refused to meet his eyes.

“And I do recall reminding you of your consequences.” He walked towards me and I felt my heart froze. “Having you out so late could raise some suspicions among our competitors, L/N.”

I couldn’t find the right words and resort to nodding instead

“I always fucking told you—“ he harshly slammed his drink onto the table beside him “—not to test the waters—”

“—I-I know—“

“So why the fuck are you stumbling in here past your curfew?”

At this very moment, I wondered if I had pulled the last straw.

I couldn’t speak. God forbid I spat out the wrong words. Contained within my thoughts, I didn’t acknowledge Alexander closing the distance between us.

“Ow!--” I watched as Alex shoved me to the wall, the moment playing in slow motion in my head.

Lafayette’s throat grew dry “Hey, Alex, Calm dow-”

He was interrupted by the sound of Alexander harshly slapping me across the face. My hands quickly went to soothe what felt like fire burning my cheek.

“We do so much for you, Y/N.” Alex growled

The sharp pain in my side grew, almost echoing throughout my body. I could feel my body giving up on itself. I mean, this wouldn’t be the first time Alex has acted like this.

Occasionally, Alex would stop by Lafayette and I’s apartment just to ensure I was home before my curfew, and he wasn’t the most forgiving.

--He owns an apartment key and has every single one of his gang member’s location tracked on his phone. Sometimes I wondered what was so special about us to have to keep all of us in check 24/7--

One time Hercules and I went shopping a little too late after sunset, part of me felt like a reckless teenager, probably because I was. I still remember Alexander’s face when I entered my own apartment, he looks identical every time.

In an attempt to shelter me, my body curled into itself against the wall. I shrunk to the floor, feeling his shadow intensely stand above me.

“Arghh!—“ the sound spilled out of me when I felt Alexander’s shin connect with my rib cage.

My lungs felt punctured under the pressure.

My arms felt like they could give out any second.

Part of me had wished I’d stay at Thomas’s place tonight, even if it meant telling him the truth.

What a predicament I’ve gotten myself into.

I looked up, wondering if my torment was over until I was met with a —Crack— Alexander’s knee encountered my face.

It was only a moment before I could hear the shuffling of the others’ shoes. I prayed they were coming to help me out.

Alexander lifted his glass of alcohol, previously forgotten, and hauled it towards me

Crash!

The piercing shards of glass combining with the stinging alcohol were the last thing I needed on a Saturday night. I didn’t notice the tears falling from my eyes until now, and the way my heart felt like it was just on a rollercoaster.

I kept my head low, watching blood drip down my face and onto the floor below me. And apparently, I wasn’t the only one to notice.

“Alex! What the fuck?!” I heard Laurens yell

“Are you trying to kill her?!?” I recognized Lafayette’s scream

Before Alex was able to make another blow, Lauren and Lafayette were quick to hold him back, attempting to calm him down.

Hercules swiftly knelt beside me, the guilt was obvious in his gaze. I hated the pity in each of their glances towards me. He attempted to wipe away the blood from my forehead with a paper towel.

Alexander fought back against the two, trying his best to prove his point. There’s the Hamilton we all know, unwilling to stand down no matter the cost.

Hercules turned back to me, his words were ready to leave his mouth from the moment we reconnected eyes.

“Y/N..” He pulled me up and shoved me out of my apartment door. “..Run.” I almost stumbled into a nearby pole, but I began running, if running in my condition was possible, back to Thomas’s place.

—-

[events of chapter 1]

The next thing I knew, I woke up in Thomas’s bed beside him. I took a moment to soak in the feeling of his satin sheets. Part of me can’t recall the events before I passed out in front of Thomas’s apartment, or maybe my mind refuses to remember them.

The sun hasn’t risen yet.

I turn to my side and reach for my phone, wincing from the pressure applied to my rib cage.

The bright light of my phone hitting my eyes felt like I was transported to another dimension.

54 notifications:

12 calls from Lafayette 🥐

24 texts from Lafayette 🥐

1 text from Alexander 💡

3 calls from Mariah 💋

14 texts from Mariah 💋

“oh fuck..” I sigh, wondering how things will play out.

Out of curiosity, I open the message from Alexander. Perhaps it’s an apology? Maybe a reminder?

Alexander 💡: I know where you are, Y/N. Don’t drag your friend into this. Because I can.

Where I am? I ask myself

My heart dropped, remembering that Alexander tracks my location 24/7. He knows where I am at this very second.

By escaping to Thomas’s apartment, I’ve just dragged him into this mess I’ve made. If my worlds collide, it would all be because I ran to this exact apartment.

Panic once again rushed through my body.

I need to get out of here. I need to leave.

I slip out from under the sheets and grab my belongings. Unprepared for what’s to come, I steal one of Thomas’s jackets from his cluttered desk chair. I’ll give it back eventually, I thought to myself.

After I put on my shoes I take one last glance toward Thomas.

He seems so peaceful when he’s asleep, tangled in his blanket, not to mention his name-brand Mac and cheese pajama pants.

I’m sorry if I drag you into this, Thomas, you just wouldn’t understand.

Taglist <3: @kenmacrumbs @strayblades @laic2299 @ohsoverykeri

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b-mydarling · 4 years

Text

[01] MASCARA

I am still dwelling in self pity over a break up with my super hot ex-boyfriend, Sehun when my best friend decided to give me a replacement mascara to make up for all the loss that I've had from crying over that jackass (as referred by Byun Baekhyun himself) for the past one week. It was a normal gift to be quite honest, but little did I know, that one normal gift is the thing that made me realize just how drop dead gorgeous my best friend is. And to Baekhyun, that three boxes of Fenty Beauty mascara are the same exact thing that have made him realized that even after years, he has never lost his feelings for me.

🍰 pairing: baekhyun x OC

🍰 characters: baekhyun, OC, sehun, yeri, irene

🍰 genre: what else if not FLUFF 😭

🍰 aus: university student! baekhyun, best friends to lovers.

🍰 contains: Playing with makeup with some cute music as the bgm but definitely not in this chapter :>

🍰 word count: 3K

― note: this is my first time cross-posting my fictional work on this platform. (I guess), posting this chapter will help me to understand Tumblr's algorithm better 😔✋ oh and fyi, the main idea of this oneshot was actually inspired by my dream 😭😭 Yes, I dreamt of Baekhyun in the midst of a pandemic and during an online semester like I’ve had nothing better to do :)

p/s: let me know if you want to be tagged for the next chapter.

Best friends.

That is the perfect term to describe and explain my relationship with Baekhyun. We used to live in the same apartment complex and his mother used to babysit me while my parents went to work. The babysitting lasted for almost six years (from when I was still a wee child at the age of 7 and until I turned 13) before his family moved to Incheon from Seoul. Even though we didn’t get to meet as often as we used to, our friendship is still intact and growing strong until now, when we are both a university students.

It was fun and easy being friends with Baekhyun. He may be older than me by two years, but I have never mind the fact because befriending Baekhyun was so, so much easier than befriending his little sister, Yeri. Although we are of the same age, I’m not close with Yeri because she used to think that my presence was a nuisance to her family; stealing her one and only brother from her, stealing her mom’s love and affection away from her, and she hated it when her dad brought back matching toys or playset for us to play together. And yes, of course we didn’t play together. To conclude my relationship with Yeri, we don’t hate or loathe each other but we have come to agree with the fact that we just don’t click with each other very well.

Presently, it is a Friday evening and I am laying on the couch at my family house’s living room. I am beat from living off from only few hours of sleep and a lot of coffee for the past two days because I was trying to perfect my assignment that holds 30% weightage for one of the subjects that I’m currently taking as a second year university student majoring in Beauty and Hairdressing studies. And now that I have submitted the assignment, it feels like all the burdens have been lifted from my shoulders and all that I want to do is sleep. I shift a few times on the long couch, trying to find a comfortable position to take a nap. I don’t want to sleep in my room just yet, afraid that my parents might forget to take the house key with them and I don’t hear their knockings if I sleep in my room. That, and I’m just too scared to sleep in my room knowing that I’m all alone in this house. It only feels like a few minutes have passed since I fell asleep before the incessant ringing of my phone wake me up. I grumble in my hazy state and reach for my phone on the coffee table.

“Hello?” I mutter into the phone without even looking at the caller id or even opening my eyes, sleep already calling back to me.

There’s a small chuckle coming from the other side of the line, the caller’s voice so deep and warm; alarming me about who he is. My lips automatically curl to form a smile just by hearing his velvet voice. There’s a few beat of silence before he starts to speak to me. “Did I wake you up from your nap?”

“Yes, yes you did.” I jokingly say with a pout while putting the call on speaker before I put my phone down to sit up from my laying position. “I’m so tired, Sehun. Mrs. Kwon has finally approved of my dreamy makeup look sketching after the fourth consultation. I’ve just submitted the assignment too. But anyway, why are you calling me? Are you done with labs?”

Sehun fakes a cry and says “My poor baby. But hey, at least you’re done with it now, right?” I hum, enjoying the comfort that my boyfriend is giving me. “And yes, I’m done with lab and my basketball practice too.” Sehun says with a teasing voice. “Can you come down for a while, princess? I need to talk to you about something.”

I look at the wall clock and frown. It’s nearly 7pm now and I’m too lazy to change out from my comfortable lounge wear. “Now?”

“Yes, now. I’m already waiting in front of your apartment complex.”

Still feeling lazy to change my clothes, I try my luck again. “Can you come upstairs then, Sehun? My parents are not home yet. They went out to have dinner with my father’s colleague.”

There’s another beat of silence coming from the other side of the line before Sehun sighs into his phone. I couldn’t decipher whether his sigh is rather affectionate or because he’s just tired from a long day at university. But I guess whatever that he’s going to talk to me about is pretty serious from the way he responds to my invitation.

“I can’t do that, baby. I need to tell you something without having to face the possibility of your parents walking in on us and disrupting our privacy. I’m also kinda in a rush to meet my friends later.”

I pout. “Okay, I’ll be down in a few minutes. See you, Sehun.” I say and after receiving a hum from him, I end the call while getting up from the couch and walk to my room to get change into something more appropriate to wear. I choose to wear Sehun’s grey hoodie that he has given me before and a legging. The hoodie is two times bigger than my own size so it’s really comfortable too. I grab my phone and lock the door before going down. Once I arrive down at the lobby, I can already see Sehun’s parked car a few metres from the apartment’s entrance. I walk closer to his Audi and knock softly on the window. Sehun is busy playing game on his phone that he gets startled by my soft knocking. He then unlocks his car and I get into the passenger seat next to him.

“Hi,” Sehun smiles at me and scans my face, his head tilting bit by bit the more he spends his time analyzing my countenance. Sehun then crinkles his nose. “Damn baby, you really look super exhausted. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“It’s okay since I need to wait for my parents to come home too.” My reply is cut short because my mind is being clouded with the smell of freshly baked dessert in his car. I turn half of my body in Sehun’s direction before I turn my head to look at his back seat. I see that there’s a white transparent box of brownies from the bakery that I frequently go to and a big bouquet of my favourite red and pink roses. I turn my head back to look at Sehun and grin up at him. “Are those for me?”

Sehun grins back at me before he takes my hand into his big one. “Of course those are for my favourite girl. You can even share the brownies with your parents too.” His other hand stretches behind him to grab both the flower bouquet and the box of brownies before he places them in my lap.

“These are my present for you because you have been such an amazing girlfriend for me for the past six months. Now, let me talk about the thing that I have wanted to tell you.”

Sehun has broken up with me.

Before this, it only took him 15 minutes to gather his courage to express and explain his feelings for me and now, it only took him 10 minutes to tell me that he wants to break up with me. Because apparently, his basketball coach has strictly forbidden him and the rest of his teammates from dating to ensure that their performance will not be affected if anything were to happen to the relationship. It was an absurd reasoning, I know that. But how can I not agree when Sehun has reasoned with me so well. He is on a full basketball scholarship so he must give his very best to basketball and to his major studies too. So yes, I agreed to break things up with him (although a part of me is hoping that we could still work things out).

After I went back to my house, I just sat idly on the couch thinking about what have just happened. There are three thoughts that are currently running through my minds and I could not just brush away this three facts:

My hot and athletic boyfriend has broken up with me.

I still love him

Should I wait for the both of us to graduate so we can be together again? But that will take two more years.

My parents came home at half past nine in the evening with take-out food for me. I only thanked my parents and proceed to eat my dinner in silence before asking for their permission so that I can leave for my room first. I even told them that they can eat the brownies on the coffee table because I don’t feel like eating it. As a result, my parents got worried over me because they could sense that something is wrong with me and Sehun from looking at the abandoned bouquet of roses and the box of brownies on the coffee table.

Now that I’m all alone in my bedroom, the realization just hit me like a bullet train. I feel suffocated. I feel restless. I feel like there is nothing else that is worse than this breakup. But boy I was wrong, there is something that is even worse than this shitty feeling that I’m having right now.

Because at half past 10 pm, my phone gets bombarded with a lot of messages and screenshots from my close friends in university. And the content of the messages were all the same, two screenshots of Irene’s latest instagram stories with one of it being a picture of hers and a man’s legs on a bed, watching Netflix together and the other picture being the same exact white box of brownies and a bouquet of red and pink roses like what I have gotten earlier. The caption in the story was:

“First date. Thank you, my sweet boy @oohsehun”

And that was the exact moment when I feel like the world has crashed on me. I feel like I could not breathe with all this new information that I just get. I need to save my sanity and I need to see the person who understands me better than anyone else. I hurriedly change my clothes before telling my parents that I need to see that person because of an emergency. My parents allowed me to go out despite it being so late at night, partly because they’ve seen how shocked and restless I am, and partly because the person that I’m going out to see is my best friend.

Byun Baekhyun.

Baekhyun has just returned home from his daily night run when he saw me standing in front of his door. He was shocked, of course. Because I have never really went to his apartment without noticing him beforehand. But upon seeing my blood-drained face, he ushered me inside before he rushed through his shower so that he can talk to me. After he’s done showering, he brought me to sit across of him at the small dining table that’s just enough for two people. And when he was seated too, he only crossed his arms and placed them on table. He doesn’t open his mouth, but his eyes are demanding me to open up. And I was right because in the next second, Baekhyun is ready to be on his best friend’s duty.

“Okay, spill it now. Every single thing.”

“You know what? Just cry.”

“Why are you asking me to cry?” I ask, annoyed that Baekhyun has been telling me the same thing ever since I was done telling him what happened. Baekhyun was also shocked to know just how much of an asshole Oh Sehun was. But he then said that I should have at least expected this since Sehun is a popular guy at university.

“Because,” Baekhyun uncrosses his arms on the table and leans back on the chair. He closes his eyes before continuing. “It’s not healthy for your mental health, you know? You don’t have to put on a strong facade in front of me. Acting like this when you’re hurting deep inside will only hurt you even more. I’ve seen you cry before. Multiple of times too, if I may add.”

I brush his words off and only stay silent. My eyes roam around his grey and red themed apartment, taking in the minimalistic interior of the house that belongs to the 24 year old man sitting across of me. He has a grey coloured two-seater sofa, his coffee table is full with his macbook, ipad, some of his still opened law text books, some documents and stationaries. His television that was originally brought from his family home is connected to the internet and his playstation 4 is still plugged into the television too.

When was the last time I visited his house? I couldn’t recall the memory but I know that it has been quite a while. Ever since I started dating Sehun, I only met Baekhyun at our university or anywhere else that is not his house because Baekhyun thought it was a little inappropriate for me to go to his house since I have a boyfriend. My little inspection of his house was interrupted after a short while when Baekhyun sighs a little loudly. I focus my eyes on him now and shrug my shoulder.

“Are you even listening to what I’m saying?” Baekhyun asks. “I don’t want you to get anymore hurt by whatever that jackass is doing or about to be doing after this. I know how much you like him and how much you cherish the relationship that you’ve had with him. It’s completely normal to be hurting by this news and it’s definitely okay to cry too. Cry until your eyes get swollen, cry until you fall asleep and wake up feeling a lot better than tonight.”

I bite my inner cheek and shake my head. Although I admit that I am hurt deep inside, I refuse to cry. Not because I have too much pride in me but because of these mixed feelings bubbling inside. Hurt from being lied and cheated on by the person whom I thought I was going to have a long lasting relationship with. Confused because out of all people, I didn’t expect Sehun and Irene to be together. Irene was my seatmate and one of my assignment group mates throughout the whole of last semester where I had taken an elective subject not related to my major. Appalled because this would have not happened if I hadn’t asked Sehun to join our group celebration dinner for getting an A last semester. These feelings just keep on brewing inside me and it was too much to comprehend, leaving me to not be able to even shed a tear.

“I don’t know, Baekhyun.” I say while standing up from the dining chair.“I thought I should tell you about this and feel better, but I still feel like I have just gotten hit by a car. I guess breakup really sucks.” I laugh soullessly. “Hey, do you mind if I crash here tonight? I’m too tired to drive again.” I don’t wait for Baekhyun to respond because I straight away walk to his couch, not realizing that Baekhyun has also stand up from his chair to follow me.

I’m only a few steps away from the couch when I feel a soft tug on my left hand, turning me around before I am being pulled into a bear hug. My eyes widen in shock because my best friend has never hugged me so closely and so tightly like this. But his embrace is just so perfect and warm and very much comforting that I can feel all these mixed emotions inside of me are swirling all over the place before I feel something triggering the most wanted reaction from me. And just like his warm embrace, my dams of tears exploded.

“I really like him, Baekhyun.” I say with tears streaming down my face. Baekhyun doesn’t say anything but lets me cry on his shoulder. I take a long time to stop crying and when I am slowly sniffling, that is when Baekhyun starts speaking.

“That wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” He asks while stroking my long hair. “You silly girl, you’ll feel a lot better after this. And oppa will make sure that jackass will regret doing what he did to you.”

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sporadic-writer · 5 years

Text

Age is but a Number

Sebastian Stan x reader

No warnings other than a swear or 2 and the age gap thing

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You began working for Marvel in about 2015. At that time you were 17 pushing 18. At 18 going on 19 Civil War was your first full film, but it worked because you were playing a character who was older than you actually were, but needed to look young. Your character was also Bucky's love interest. Well, sorta.. In the comics you were, but the movies had a slower build, more subtle. Regardless, the producers had you both hang out before filming to gain a sense of familiarity. He was cool and you both got along quite well. He liked how you didn't act as young as you were. You liked how funny and down to earth he was. A lovely friendship built as time went on.

But here you were, 5ish years later, dealing with press stuff for Avengers: Endgame. You were 22, managing college with being an actress, and trying to have a life with your friends still. You loved being a student and having this job, everyone was cool with you doing most of your filming and work during your breaks. Yet, it still could get overwhelming. Luckily, Sebastian and you had always remained close. He helped you manage everything and deal with the intense world of acting. As you got older, he noticed how well you handled everything. Yes, you still acted like a 22 year old girl at moments, it was normal. But most of the time you always seemed older and more mature despite being the youngest cast member. He respected you, and even grew to like you. The media caught on about how you both hung out more outside of set. Obviously, dating rumors and notes of the age gap spread out and around the world. Yet, neither of you stressed about it or let it get to you. Brushing it off, both of you went about life as usual. Neither of you talked about the relationship possibilities. You wouldn’t admit it out loud, but you liked seeing some fans point out details about how he acted in a flirty, or different manner around you. It added to your girly fantasy of you being with someone like Sebastian Stan. Things never really shifted between you guys until a Jimmy Fallon appearance with Mark Ruffalo.

Walking backstage with the two men you turned and looked at Sebastian. “Your ass nearly got us fired! Not in a single trailer, yet you almost blew a plot point. I know we don’t know if it’s true or not, but still! When we come back for the game, I am not taking blame if something goes to shit.”

Mark looked between you guys, “The fact that I held up better than you is sad dude. Thank God Y/N jumped in. But how is that the topic you are focusing on? Don’t look at me like that. Jimmy brought up you guys being a thing now that she isn't seeing Tom's friend anymore and I felt your hands stop messing with each other behind me on the couch! You froze! Just admit you like each other. We’ve seen it all but confirmed since the kiss that got cut in Infinity War.”

You both stopped and you looked to Mark, “We were messing with each other. So what? Then he brought us up so we focused on him. And that kiss was only a casual peck for the scene. Shut up man, I’m gonna wait in the green room for the game. I hope it’s that film noir truth or lie game! I wanna see what they dug up on me haha!"

You walked off and Sebastian kept his eyes on you until you turned the corner. “She didn’t deny it did she? That she likes me?”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.. You’re over 30! Just grow a pair and talk to her.”

He hesitated, “She’s 15 years younger than me... I've known her since she graduated high school."

“What’s your point? Blake Lively is 11 years younger than Ryan. Jay-Z is 12 years older than Beyonce. George Clooney and his wife are 16 years apart. No one cares if you both like each other. Hell, Nick Jonas just married a woman 11 years older than him.” Mark looked at him like he was an idiot. “You like the girl, we all do. Go for it! She wouldn’t say no.”

“Really??” Mark simply nodded. Next thing he knew, he was heading to your green room.

He knocked and heard you say come in. You were sitting comfortably on the couch, scrolling on your phone and munching on snacks left by Jimmy and the crew. You looked up and said hey to him. He didn’t speak back and you looked up at him again. “What’s up man? You look like you saw someone get stabbed by the main curtain. "

He laughed a little and made eye contact with you. “Nah, I feel just a nervous though.”

You put your phone down, sat up, and looked up at him. “You were fine out there. What’s going on?”

“We get along really well right? And we have a lot of fun hanging out and talking right?”

“Yeah of course. What are you getting at here Seb? You’re being more random than usual.” You smiled at him in a questioning manner and invited him to sit next to you.

“Wow this is harder than it seemed in my head. I was just wondering if you would want to maybe, I don’t know...” He doesn’t really look at you, just the floor and rubs his hands on his pants. Suddenly, it seems to click for you.

“Wait. Are- are you asking me out?” You smile as you see him nod, still not really looking at you. “Hell yes I’ll go out with you. Since when are you so nervous to ask a girl out? You told me how you asked Jennifer Morrison out easily after meeting her.”

“Yeah well she wasn’t my friend first, and she isn’t 15 years younger than me.”

“Oh. That isn’t an issue is it? I mean well clearly not, you just asked me out. Hell Ellen and her wife are like 15 apart too." A knock on your door interrupted you. A guy with a headset on came in and told you to go to the main stage area for the game. You nodded and said you would both be out soon. You turned back to Sebastian and put your hand on his knee. “I would love to go out with you. Let’s just skip the awkward actual going out parts for the first date. Let’s do something slightly more serious than when we just hang. Sound good?”

“Yeah, damn you’re easier at this than me. But that sounds good.” He took note of how you said first date. The hope of more lingered. He stood up and held his hand out to help you up. Grabbing his hand he pulled you up and hugged his arm around your waist. Then the two of you met Mark and Jimmy and played Drinko much to your excitement!

SKIP TO THE DATE

You looked at your phone and remembered that Sebastian told you to just come in when you made it to his place. He insisted you come over and he could cook you dinner. Between all the press things, a dinner was a great choice. Neither of you had a home-cooked meal in forever. Plus, he wanted to show off. So walking in, you clutched the bottle of wine and tried to remain calm.

“Sebastian?” You called out your heels clicked as you looked around. You could faintly smell something being made. Considering you saw no kitchen, you walked upstairs. The sight before you was adorable. He was dancing around to some music while stirring something around in a pan. He turned and saw you smiling as you watched him, but he also stopped dancing. “No don’t stop on my account.”

“Ha ha how clever. Sorry I didn’t hear you come in.” He took the bottle you brought and took your coat off for you. You thanked him and he laughed at the bottle. “Barefoot? Really?”

“Hey it isn’t pink is it? I had to pay some tuition bills yesterday, less funds than I anticipated. Figured this was better than nothing. Plus, my mom told me it’s rude to come to someone’s house for dinner empty handed.”

“Aren’t you such a lady. But I’m just messing with you, you brought it, so even then pink would have been fine. I’m just finishing this up, so you’re right on time. As long as I never drink peppermint schnapps again I’ll be fine. Mixing that with hot sauce, clam juice, and grape soda was horrible.”

Looking at the kitchen area, you smiled. “Ha yeah I lucked out. Sunny D, whipped cream vodka, grape soda, and mountain dew? Hell I’m pretty sure I had that last semester at a Halloween party. But forget the gross stuff. Whatcha cooking? Creamy garlic shrimp, one of my favorites. How did you know?”

“I know you.” He said it so surely. And the bastard had the nerve to wink. Make you flustered. Well, two could play at this game.

You walked to get a couple glasses for the wine, making sure you sway your hips as you went past him. From your side eye you saw him check you out. “Like what you see old man?”

He didn’t even try to hide it. “I do. You look good Y/N, you always do.” As you went back to sit down and pour some wine for you both, he sat a nice plate of food in front of you. He went next to you and told you to dig in.

Taking the first bite let out a small, appreciative moan. “Holy shit. This is fantastic! I’m serious. Thank you for this. I’ve never actually had a guy cook for me, so really, thanks.”

“No need to thank me. Just keep going out with me.” His smile was so sweet. You just simply said of course.

"Can't say no to that." You smirked at him to the side of you as you both ate.

Once dinner was finished and cleaned up by the both of you he suggested you move to the living room balcony.

"Wait, you said a specific balcony. Do you have more than one?" He laughed as you both walked out. Wine glasses full with his better stuff after finishing the Barefoot you brought.

He stood next to you enjoying the view. "Yes there is another connected to the main bedroom."

"Wow. And I thought my campus apartment was fancy. This sure beats dorm furniture and faulty heating."

He chuckled, looking at you as you looked out at the city. "Why do you live on campus? I mean, you can afford a nicer place to finish school."

"Yeah but I cover rent for my roommates who truly depend on me for campus living so they can keep their scholarships. Going off campus would screw them over. Plus, I have too much money anyway. They wouldn't let me help with their tuition, so rent'll do." As you spoke you continue sipping the wine. It was enchanting and sparkling to see the lights of the city.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?" You pondered as to what he could mean.

He turned fully to you and you did the same. He looked at you earnestly. "Stay normal when being a Marvel star? You balance getting a college degree and doing press tours world wide. I only do this and sometimes cannot stand it."

Shrugging you spoke, "Eh it isn't always easy. But managers and people working out schedules around my schooling have really helped. Plus, my folks, friends, and you guys have really helped. Especially you." You brought the glass to your face to hide a blush forming.

Sebastian pulled you by the waste, closer to him. You looked up and smiled at him. "Hey I was forced to be with you when we were younger. Only fitting I actually shaped you properly for the biz and so I wouldn't hate you." Ah that charm you fell so easily for. "I'm kidding. I like you for soo many reasons. I'll tell you them on the second date."

You put your wine glass down. "Good. I will love to hear those then. Because right now I don't wanna talk that much."

He laughed lightly. "Are you trying to make out with me Y/N? Ah darling, here I thought you were mature!" His hold around you tightened as you smiled.

You sighed as you ran a hand over his really toned pec. "Yeah.. mature. Not blind!" Your heart fluttered at the way he looked at you. Luckily, no more words were exchanged on the balcony til a while later when the sun finished setting.

#sebastian stan blurb #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan fic #sebastian x reader #sebastian stan #marvel #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader

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everwitch-magiks · 4 years

Text

dance with somebody (ch. 5)

(ch. 1) (ch. 2) (ch. 3) (ch. 4)

Whiskey takes the stairs two steps at a time.

His heart is racing as he turns the corner, immediately heading for his own room. He barely registers passing by a vaguely curious Hops as he practically runs the last few steps. As soon as he's made it inside, he closes the door firmly behind himself and then locks it.

Whiskey's pulse is frighteningly close to a level that's comparable to mid-game in the playoffs, when the call finally connects.

“... Connor?”

Whiskey tries to take a breath – not even a deep breath, for fucks sake, if he could just fucking breathe at all-

“Beth. Hey.”

For some reason, Bethany Whisk almost laughs.

“For someone who did not just come out to our entire extended family, you sure sound like shit, Connor.”

Whiskey let’s himself sink down onto his bed, his head in his hands.

“What, uh. When’d you… How bad is it?”

The text hadn’t exactly clarified much. just outed myself to my parents and yours, over sunday dinner. everything a lil yikes. thought u should know

“Pretty bad.” Beth’s voice is strangely calm. “Although actually, not quite the worst case scenario? But close, yeah. Real close.”

“Shit,” Whiskey mutters.

“Yeah. My dad’s gone off somewhere – he sort of just got up and left, pretty soon after I’d said it? So that’ll be lots of fun when he gets back. Mom’s a lot calmer, comparatively. Said she needs to think. Which I’ve classified as ambiguous, but not completely hopeless.”

“What about…” Whiskey begins, his tone hoarse, and then he doesn’t finish the sentence.

He can’t finish the sentence.

“Oh, your folks weren’t too bad.” Beth pauses for a moment, as if to think. “I got the feeling they weren’t really angry – it was more like pity, I guess? Which wasn’t super fun either, gotta admit that. Your mom said it’s so sad I’ll never have children, and so of course I had to deliver the news that many lesbian women have plenty of kids, and then she looked, like, super confused. I’m so fucking relieved she stopped asking questions, after that.”

Whiskey gets up, only to sit back down again. He’s trembling all over. It’s almost like he can feel the way his whole world has just shifted, like there’s an actual, physical change between right now and five minutes ago.

"Are you… D'you need anything? What can I do?"

"Oh, Connor." Beth's tone is uncharacteristically soft. "You know, I pretty much knew I’d never have to worry about your reaction. Because actually, I have a feeling you get it – like, really get it. Don’t you?”

Whiskey freezes.

"Considering your hockey team," Beth continues, completely oblivious. "Your captain is the first out something, isn’t he? Which is so cool, by the way, even though I don’t give many fucks about hockey.”

It takes Whiskey a moment to find his voice again.

"First out NCAA men’s hockey captain,” he rattles off, and it’s lucky that’s something he could quote in his sleep, or he’d get the words all mixed up. “Yeah, uh. That was Bitty. He graduated this spring. But our captain this year – Dex – is actually dating his defence partner, so.”

"Defence what now?"

"Another player on our team."

“Wow,” Beth says, and there’s something not unlike wonder in her tone. “I guess it’s all true, those things they say about Samwell.”

“Yeah,” Whiskey returns unsteadily. “You have no idea, Beth.”

Beth is quiet for a moment.

“So I’m flying back tomorrow,” she says, and for some reason her voice sounds a little different from before – more determined. “You know, Samwell is less than a four hour drive from Columbia.”

“Is that so.”

“It is. We could, y’know. Hang out sometime? Anyway, you should meet Melanie.”

“... Oh,” Whiskey says, and it’s like he has to pause and process all over again. “Melanie. Huh.”

“You’ll like Mel,” Beth says eagerly. “And I could meet your team, maybe? That’d be fun.”

“That would be fun,” Whiskey says after a beat – it surprises him, that he actually, genuinely means it. He’s missed Beth. “Yeah. We should do that.”

“See, this is why you’re my favourite cousin.” Beth sounds extremely pleased. “Josh and Amy haven’t even returned my texts, yet.”

“To be fair, they kind of always sucked.”

“You speak the truth, my friend. Nothing but the truth.”

“Seriously, though,” Whiskey says. “If you, like, need anything? Anything at all? Let me know. We’ll figure it out.”

“Thank you.” Beth’s tone is warm. “I think I’ll be fine. Like I said, I’m flying back tomorrow, and once I’m back at school there’s not much mom and dad can do, even if they try. I’m on a full scholarship, plus I’ve already got a paid internship lined up for next summer, so I’m basically financially independent at this point. And I’ve made some really amazing friends at Columbia. They’ll help me out.”

“They’ve got your back?”

“Definitely.”

“Okay. Good.”

“So,” Beth continues, her tone for some reason a bit sly. “Your mom told me you’re back together with that girl from Phoenix? That was right before I dropped the big lesbian bomb on everyone, so I didn’t get to ask her, like, anything.”

“... Yeah,” Whiskey confirms uneasily. “We got back together during spring break last semester, yeah.”

“That’s nice.”

“I guess.”

“You guess? Don’t you know?”

“I mean, I don’t see her a lot,” Whiskey tries.

Beth hums. “Long distance, huh. That’s tough.”

“No, that’s not…” Whiskey draws a shaky breath. It’s so much easier to lie to everyone else. “Beth. Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything, C.”

“Right.” Whiskey tries to keep his voice steady. “Just, can you promise me to… To pretend like I didn’t actually tell you? To just never bring it up again. Ever.”

“I mean, sure.” Beth’s tone is kind, if a little surprised. “If that’s what you want, sure.”

Whiskey closes his eyes, and breathes in.

“I slept with a guy.”

For a moment, Beth is quiet.

“All right,” she says gently. “You know that’s not the end of the world, right?”

“No, I guess.” Whiskey’s voice is shaking. “I’m just… I don��t know.”

Beth hums. “You want to do it again?”

“We uh, we did.” Whiskey clears his throat. “A few times. Last semester.”

“Hold up,” Beth says, her tone startled. “You’ve been sleeping with a guy? Frequently?”

“Not since last semester,” Whiskey reminds her quickly. “But, uh, yeah. For a while there it was every now and then.”

Beth is quiet for a moment.

“Is this the part where I smoothly change the subject and we never speak of this again? Because I’m, like, dying to get all the details.”

Whiskey almost smiles.

Somehow, breathing feels a little easier than before.

“He’s on the lacrosse team,” he supplies, surprising himself.

“Athletic,” Beth concludes, her tone giddy. “Fit? Hot?”

“Really fit,” Whiskey admits. “And like, tall?”

“Fucking get it, Connor!” Beth laughs. “But you’re not seeing each other, anymore?”

“I’m back together with my girlfriend,” Whiskey reminds her tersely. “And me and that guy weren’t ever officially anything.”

“Right,” Beth agrees easily. “Still. Glad to hear you’re getting the full Samwell experience.”

“You could say that.” Whiskey sighs. “I just. I’m not sure… I don’t think I can ever do what you just did.”

“Okay,” Beth says gently. “Do you have to, though?”

“I mean, eventually,” Whiskey tells her uneasily. “Right? People come out, eventually.”

“Not everyone does. Some people don’t.”

Whiskey blinks.

“There’s really a lot more to being gay than coming out,” Beth continues. “I would know.”

“I’m not gay,” Whiskey says reflexively – and really, he isn’t. Not strictly.

“No labels, then? Cool, cool." There's warmth in Beth's voice as she continues. "You'll figure all of this out, Connor. I'm sure you will."

"You're not the first person to tell me that."

"Let's hope I won't be the last," Beth says brightly. "So. How many people know?"

"Noone," Whiskey says quickly – too quickly. "Well, you know now. Bitty found out accidentally, and I almost told Dex. Plus I guess that guy I was with has a hunch."

"Right," Beth says, and there's no judgement in her tone. "So when we come to see you, this conversation never happened. Obviously, I'm not telling Melanie."

"Yeah," Whiskey agrees. "Thank you. Thank you so much, Beth."

"No problem. And on that happy subject, when’s a good weekend for me and Mel to drive up for some Samwell shenanigans?”

“I can send you our game schedule," Whiskey suggests.

“Connor, you know I love you, but please tell me you don’t expect me to sit through an entire game of sports.”

“I mostly meant so you’ll know when we have away games,” Whiskey says, and to his own surprise he’s grinning slightly. “You know, so that I’m not in fucking New Jersey when you show up here.”

“Okay, fair point.” Beth pauses. “By the way. Are you any good?”

“What, at hockey?”

“No, at table tennis.” The eye-roll is near audible.

“I am,” Whiskey says. “Good, I mean. I’m the top scorer on our team.”

“Well, that’s only good if the team is.”

“You know, maybe you guys should actually drive up for a game weekend,” Whiskey tells her. “It’s really not a complete Samwell experience without a proper post-game kegster.”

“A what now?”

“A party, Beth. A huge party. At the hockey frat.”

“See, now you’re talking,” Beth says excitedly. “Hey. Mind if I bring some friends?”

(ch. 6)

#check please #omgcheckplease #omgcp #checkpleasespoilers #connor whisk #OC: Bethany Whisk #dance with somebody #at it with the angst again #a bit lighter than the last part #hopeful #mentions of parents not reacting well to their kid coming out #evie writes #fanfiction

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fangirlxwritesx67 · 4 years

Text

Paper Rings

au college Sam Winchester x OFC Dani Word Count: 1300 Tags: none, literally, this is a fluff bomb of cute fluffy love and soft baby Sammy feels, stationery shopping, kisses. *** This one is for the best fanfic reviewer in the whole world, @dawnie1988. Her request: Fluff. All the fluff. I want to be smothered in it. I’m thinking Sam this time, either canon or canon adjacent Sam or something a little more in the stratosphere of your au ‘Show Me How’ type Sam, dealer’s choice on that one Song Inspiration: Paper Rings by: Taylor Swift *** "There's nothing like a brand new notebook to make you feel like anything is possible, right?" Sam started. Was she talking to him? He turned his head to see a dark haired girl smiling eagerly at him. "It's the best part of a new school year. The new notebooks, the new pens. Even though we're in college now, I still love it." She was looking at him, her dark eyes sparkling, clearly expecting him to say something. "Uh, no." He stammered out. "Oh, yeah, I guess maybe dudes aren't as into that?" Before he could answer, she continued. "Anyway, hi, I'm Dani. I'm so excited to be in this class. Aren't you?"

“No, I mean, yes.” Sam wasn’t usually this flustered. “No, it’s just, my parents weren’t really the ‘back to school’ shopping type. But yes, I’m looking forward to Educational Psychology.” Apparently that answer was enough to encourage Dani.

“Are you going to be a teacher? I am. I’ve always wanted to be a teacher. It runs in my family. My grandpa taught high school, and my dad is a professor. Even my mom teaches music. I want to teach Middle School. I feel like those kids just have so much potential, you know? Like, if you catch them there, you can change the course of their lives.”

“Uh, I’m Pre-Law.” Sam was trying to keep up and formulate some kind of response. “I’m Sam.”

“Nice to meet you, Sam.” Dani flashed him a bright smile and then turned to the front of the room as the professor walked in and called Educational Psychology to order. Sam was relieved to settle into the familiar territory of lecture, reading and taking notes. It was much easier than keeping up with Dani’s endless stream of chatter.

At the end of the class, he had to hurry to his next one, which he had unwisely scheduled across campus. But the next time he walked into the classroom, there was Dani. She seemed to have been waiting for him, hardly letting him sit down before she launched into a discussion that covered the last class as well as the homework for this class.

Sam was surprised to discover, in the flow of her words, that she had an astute grasp of the topic. He found himself agreeing with what she had to say, mostly in his head, of course, because she didn’t give him much chance to answer. When the class started, she responded to the professor’s questions with the same kind of enthusiasm - verbose, but knowledgeable.

From that day, Sam and Dani seemed to fall into easy companionship. They sat side by side in class, they studied together for tests, and they managed to team up for group projects.

They were friends, nothing more, but Sam treasured it. Dani was everything he was not: confident, chatty, secure in herself. He could tell that she was grounded by the support of her parents, who were present and caring, affirming her and encouraging her interests. It was a sharp contrast to his lost mother and distant father.

Sam and Dani studied for finals together like they had for everything else. For Educational Psychology, of course, but also for their other classes, sharing study tips and quizzing one another. The library was closing for the night when Sam stretched and looked at her. They had been lost in their books for hours.

“I don’t know about you, but I can only learn so much on an empty stomach. Wanna hit the diner?” Sam stood up and stretched. Dani agreed eagerly.

Once they were seated at a booth, Sam declared a study-free zone. He was launching into one of his favorite topics, about how brains need time to process, when Dani interrupted.

“I agree, Sam. No more school work.” She reached out and took his hand. He startled into silence. “Let’s just talk about us.”

As usual, Dani talked the most, saying ten words for every one of his. But the words he did say were honest, heartfelt. She made him feel comfortable enough to tell a little bit of the truth about his life. Dani listened intently, her expressive face displaying every emotion: sadness, confusion, and ultimately, concern.

“So the day we met, when you said your parents were not really the back to school shopping type, this is what you were talking about?”

“I… guess.” Sam wasn’t used to talking this much about himself. He felt himself get quiet, retreat back inward. He felt like maybe he had shared too much.

“That’s too bad. You really deserve better, you know?”

Sam was unsure how to react to such honest caring, so he shrugged. “It is what it is.” He answered dismissively. He paid for dinner and drove Dani back to her dorm. Like a gentleman, he got out of the car to open her door.

He was caught off guard when she threw her arms around his neck. Standing on tiptoes, she kissed him.

Kissing Dani was the easiest thing in the world. Sam already knew her, trusted her. Kissing her felt right. And at the same time-

“Dani, you don’t have to-”

She pulled back, her hands still locked around his neck, to look him full in the face. “Sam Winchester, I don’t do anything because someone thinks I have to. I want to, I want this, I want you.”

Sam wasn’t used to anyone knowing him, seeing him, much less wanting him. For a long moment he was silent, leaning his forehead against hers without speaking, their lips barely brushing.

“Kiss me once,” she whispered, “Kiss me twice, I’ve been waiting for this.”

He knew Dani, trusted her, so he let himself get lost in the moment. When she finally pulled away, reluctantly, the only thing he could find to say was, “Thank you.”

***

Sam and Dani finished at the top of their class in Educational Psychology. That class was the rule rather than the exception. Sam ended the semester with grades that would get him on the Dean’s List and guarantee two more years of scholarships. That was what he needed, to prove himself, to make this work.

Dani went home to her family, to enjoy the break and celebrate the holidays together. Sam took an overnight bus to the last town Dean had mentioned, and when his brother wasn’t there, he hitch hiked until he found him.

Dean greeted him with a giant hug.

“College boy, huh? Hope you’re not too fancy for spaghetti-os and some bad TV reruns with your big brother, huh?”

“Never.” Sam answered quickly.

*** Sam moved back to college for the spring semester at his earliest chance. He had kept in touch with Dani by text over the break, so he was not surprised when she returned to campus. What did surprise him was her insistence that they go to Target.

“I need things for my dorm,” she said. But when they got there, she skipped the housewares section entirely and headed straight to the office supplies.

Sam stood in the aisle between the sharpies and the binders, taking in the color coordinated staplers and stationery.

“It’s not back to school season, really.” Dani said. “But pick your notebooks.”

Sam shook his head, baffled. “No, I can get what I need at the dollar store.”

Dani almost stomped her foot. “C’mon Sam. This is my favorite thing, and I want to share it with you.” She took in his expression. “You can have nice things. You deserve this.”

At her urging, he picked up a few notebooks, a folder or two, and then a set of pens.

She held his hand as they left the store. “See, now that you have new school supplies, don’t you feel like anything is possible? ”

Sam took her face in both hands and kissed her, right there outside of Target.

“Wrap your arms around me, baby boy,” she murmured as she sank into his embrace.

“With you, Dani,” he murmured finally, “You’re the one I want. Yeah, anything is possible.” *** This one’s unbeta’d so all the mistakes are on me. *** SPN First Last and Always: @boondoctorwho @dawnie1988 @deanwanddamons @defenderrosetyler @divadinag @emoryhemsworth @fookinghelljensensthighs @idreamofplaid @kalesrebellion @kickingitwithkirk @maddiepants @magssteenkamp @onethirstyunicorn @there-must-be-a-lock @tloveswriting Sam Girl For Life: @awesomesusiebstuff @lilsylvia @winchesterxfamilybusiness Gay Screaming: @boondoctorwho, @cracksinthewalls, @fookinghelljensensthighs @itmighthavebeenintentional, @justcallmeasmodeus, @lastactiontricia @mskathywriteswords, @rockhoochie, @there-must-be-a-lock, @thoughtslikeaminefield

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester x ofc #baby sam winchester #dawnie reviews

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darnedchild · 5 years

Text

Chemistry - SAW 2020 Day 5

Day 5 – Friends-to-Lovers/Rivals-to-Lovers

Chemistry

“He drives me crazy,” Molly hissed as she stabbed a straw into her iced latte.

“As you’ve already said, more than once.” Meena peeled the top lair of rye bread off of her sandwich and grimaced. “How hard is it to leave off the mustard?” She raised her head to glare at the clerk hovering behind the counter.

“Stop terrorizing the staff and listen to me.” Molly smacked her friend’s hand with her empty straw wrapper.

“I just don’t understand why we keep coming back here, there’s another coffee shop on the other side of the campus. I bet they could figure out how to make a sandwich correctly.” Her glare returned to the now vacant counter; the clerk having found something vitally important to do out of Meena’s line of sight.

“Whatever, can we get back to me venting please?”

Meena scrapped off as much mustard as she could with her finger, then slapped her sandwich back together. “Fine. This guy gets on your last nerve.”

Molly nodded as she took a sip of her drink. “He never bothers to pay attention when he shows up for class, if he shows up. He always has this… bored expression on his face, like he’s only there because he’s required to be.”

“So, like every other student with an eight am class?” Meena teased.

“Some of us are here because we actually want to learn.”

Meena rolled her eyes. “That is the most pretentious-“

“Hey.” Molly grabbed the wrinkled straw wrapper and hit her with it again. “Venting.”

“Right. Sorry. Please continue.”

“He never comes to the assigned peer study sessions. I asked him why once. Do you know what he said?”

“He already knows all of it?” Meena mumbled around a mouthful of her subpar sandwich.

“He said he doesn’t have to study because he already knows all of it.” Molly confirmed, as if they hadn’t had this exact conversation a week ago.

“Why does his disinterest in passing chem bother you so much? Just let it go.”

Molly shook her head and leaned across the table toward Meena. “I can’t. It’s not just the study sessions. Now we’ve got a group project to turn in at the end of the semester, and somehow, he ended up in my group. It’s worth twenty percent of my grade! He may not need to worry about his GPA, but I’ve got to keep my scholarship and he’s going to ruin it for me!”

She settled back in her chair with a defeated groan. “I want to throw something at him but he’s got those stupid curls and those biteable lips, and it is so hard to hate him outright when he’s looking at me with those gorgeous blue eyes. Then he opens his mouth and it gets a little easier. He’s so infuriating!”

Meena’s eyes widened in alarm, but Molly didn’t notice as she continued to rant. “I swear, I don’t know whether I want to kiss him or kick him.”

Her friend covered her mouth and quietly hissed, “Behind you!”

Dread washed over Molly as she slowly turned in her chair to find the annoyance in question standing there, watching her.

“Hooper,” he finally acknowledged her after several seconds.

“Holmes.”

He worked his lips for a moment, then nodded his head as if he’d made some sort of a decision. “Your dorm room. Eight tonight.”

Molly blinked. “Pardon?”

“You want to study, we’ll study.” He started to walk off.

“Wait!” She held out her hand toward him. “You don’t know where I live.”

“Not a problem,” Sherlock called over his shoulder as he slipped through the crowded tables and out of the coffee shop.

இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—

She spent twenty minutes straightening up her room, although she didn’t know why she was bothering. He wasn’t going to show up. Was he?

Molly kept glancing at the alarm clock on her desk, counting down the minutes to eight.

Still, the knock on her door at exactly seven fifty-nine managed to catch her by surprise. With any luck, he hadn’t heard her startled squeak out in the hall.

Unfortunately, the smirk on his lips when she opened the door dashed all over her hopes on that front.

“Holmes.” She gestured for him to come in.

He stepped past her with a nod and an almost uncharacteristically polite, “Molly.”

That confused her. In the entire time they’d known each other, nearly half a semester so far, he’d never once addressed her by her first name. She’d started calling him “Holmes” after the third or fourth “Hooper” and it had stuck.

He plopped into her only chair and tossed his messenger bag onto her desk.

Molly quietly shut the door and settled herself into the middle of her bed, surrounded by her chem book and notes. She looked up and frowned when it became apparent that he hadn’t moved since he sat down. “Aren’t you going to get your book out?”

Holmes—Sherlock, as they were apparently on a first name basis for some reason—shrugged and flipped open his bag to tug his book free. “All right, tell me what you’re having problems with.”

They worked until nearly ten. She’d expected him to be standoffish and rude, much like he was in class, but he’d made an effort to hold his tongue when he’d realized he was becoming condescending.

“Oh, I didn’t realize it was so late. Um, thank you. For the help.” Molly ducked her head to hide behind her hair as she began to carefully organize her notes. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For what I said earlier. At the coffee shop.”

“Why?”

She looked up to find him watching her. “Pardon?”

“Why apologize? You meant it at the time. And no one is going to deny that I am an arsehole.”

“I-“ There really wasn’t a lot she could say in response to that. He wasn’t wrong. “Still.”

Sherlock tilted his head to study her. It almost made her feel as if she were under a microscope. “Have you decided?”

“I’m sorry?”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and grinned. “Kiss me or kick me. Have you decided?”

That was probably the last thing she expected him to say.

Sherlock slowly stood and took the two steps to stand next to her bed, then looked down at her with the barest hint of a confident smile on his lips. “I know which I’d prefer; but I would need to make sure you weren’t doing it because you felt the need to pay me back for tonight.”

Her jaw fell open, then snapped shut when she realized she must look ridiculous.

“Which is it, Molly?”

As if there was any real choice.

She reached up to grab a handful of his shirt and yanked him down to the bed next to her. “Planned that out in advance, didn’t you?”

“Might have. It worked though, didn’t it?” He smirked as he leaned in to kiss her.

“We’ll see. I’m still considering leaving the kicking option open.”

“Noted.”

#sherlollyweek2020 #sherlolly

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randomnoteforfuturereference · 5 years

Text

The Quarry

This piece is actually part of a larger fic I did a while ago (fic on AO3 is called Quarried Depths, which @kleeklutch helped with during the beta process), but I thought it capable of standing alone as a one-shot. It takes place between “2.3 Meet the Frogs” and “2.4 Hazeapalooza”, when Nursey and Dex... didn’t have the best relationship; this piece specifically takes place right after that scene where Nursey spilled the cereal and milk on Dex (and in this case, on Dex’s laptop as well). It also explores a bit of how Dex looks up to Ransom.

Warning: There’s a first-person depiction of an anxiety attack, as well as unintentional self-harm via scratching.

Anyways, hope y'all enjoy.

--- --- ---

“There are eight d-men on this team,” I breathe through clenched teeth. “Eight. Coaches could have paired me with any of them. Instead, I have to. Put. Up. With. You.” I punctuate the last few words by prodding a trembling finger into his chest.

I don’t give a damn if Nurse gets the message or not, but a distant tendril of satisfaction blossoms within me when he flinches back. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that something crumples behind those dollar-green eyes of his.

Not bothering to wait for a further response, I turn back and continue on my way.

Nurse doesn’t bother following.

I don’t go back to my dorm. In all honesty, I don’t know where I’m going. I just need to be somewhere without people. Without judgement.

As my feet carry me on my way, the haze of rage begins to ebb and the thrumming gradually quiets. With that ebbing, my brain plays catch up and clarity is restored. With that clarity, two things hit me.

The first is the fact that I had wandered out of campus and into Samwell Park. Not only that, but judging by my vantage point and surroundings, I went past the dam and past any defined trail. I really am in a spot where I won’t be bothered, even with the university visible across the Pond’s surface.

The second thing that hits me is the full weight of what just happened. The possibility that my computer will not survive this. The fact that this fight between me and Nurse was probably the worst that has happened between us. The fact that this blow-up happened in front of the team and much of the school.

That weight settles into my stomach and pulls my insides down with it.

Did you really think you’d make it? He’s right. You don’t fit here. You don’t fit with them.

Did you see their faces? They hate you. And why shouldn’t they? You never say the right thing. They were just being nice before. They were being generous. And now you’ve really blown it.

My skin pulls taut and, as it tightens, it constricts my chest and sends a familiar damn itch all over. Shedding my backpack does nothing to ease that.

Now they are going to tell Hall and Murray. Now the coaches are going to kick you out. Then where are you going to be? Where’s your scholarship going to be? Gone. All that investment. All his investment for you. It’s all going to be gone. You’re going to lose a scholarship and a laptop. All within one semester.

Just because you have to be Billy the Blunder.

Gasping for air and clawing at my arms, I finally collapse and curl in on myself to weather the storm.

Because that’s what you’re good at. Weathering.

It’s all you’re good at.

I don’t know how long I lay where I fall. Could be seconds. Could be minutes. Could be hours.

Whatever the case, the storm finally ebbs, and as my breaths slow and even out, I unfurl and lift myself off the forest floor.

All things considered, it was probably one of my worst attacks. I don’t even have to look at my stinging arms to know that I’m going to have to keep my sleeves down for the next few days or so. Easier will be not showing my hands so that nobody can see the little bloody crescents gouged into them.

Just to be sure, I sit on a rock that juts out over the water and go through some of the breathing exercises taught to me. It doesn’t banish completely the tight feeling in my chest, but little by little it loosens things up.

As things loosen up, I take stock of the setting: The clear sunny day with just the a slightest cool breeze. The extreme clarity of the water suggesting that turnover hasn’t happened yet despite the time of the year. The shore terminating in a rocky drop-off with no bottom beyond.

It dimly occurs to me that this spot most likely was a quarry once.

Feeling back in control and getting a good gauge on my surroundings, I get an idea.

I place my laptop in a shaded location where I can see it, strip down to my underwear, use my clothes to make a nest around the computer, inhale a deep breath, and take a leaping dive off the rock.

The briskness of the water is like a sledgehammer to my lungs. It’s a familiar pressure, however, and not unwelcome. As my momentum slows, I release just enough air to allow for a steady descent. The cloud of shimmering bubbles clears to reveal a sight before me. Shafts of dappled light from the noonday sun dance around the pale surroundings and occasionally illuminate the blurry forms of various fish gliding and hovering around in the distance. Unlike the majority of the Pond, which is shallow enough to walk through for a hundred feet without the water reaching your neck, here I’m rendered tiny by the cliff-like wall plunging down to indiscernible depths.

If anything, and despite the very real danger it can pose, the incomprehensible nature of the environment that dwarfs me is a source of comfort. It doesn’t judge. It doesn’t spurn. It doesn’t give a flying fuck where I come from and who I am. It just is and offers a familiar presence that supports and embraces even as the mild protests of my lungs signal for me to kick back up to the surface. That embrace relaxes me in full, and the breath I take upon breaking the surface reinvigorates my body.

I should do this more often.

As I swim around the surface, the sound of crunching leaves and snapping twigs breaks me out of that state of calm, and it gives me cause to press close to the edge and reach for a small rock. That is, until the crunching is accompanied by the grumbling of a familiar voice and the flash of a white cap.

“Over here.” I punctuate my call by lobbing the rock into a leaf pile in front of me and pushing off the rocky wall so that I can be seen.

Ransom jumps straight up and lets off a high-pitched yelp — city folk… — before he whips around, does a double-take, and finally focuses on me. After taking a few steadying breaths, he gingerly picks his way towards the edge of the rocky bank. I doubt those loafers, which probably cost as much as everything I had on half-an-hour ago, are made for going through anything rougher than cobblestones. “You’re fucking hard to find, you know that right?”

“Wasn’t planning on being found,” I counter. “How’d you get this far?”

“Left breakfast early, and I saw you stomping southbound along the Pond. Wasn’t too hard to follow your trail — if I had to ask some random witnesses that you passed — until the damn path withered away to nothing after I crossed the bridge by the waterfall,” he grumbles while looking around. “This really is the fucking Forbidden Forest.”

I can see how he may have that impression. The vegetation here’s likely secondary growth, but considering how well-established it is in general and how thick the trees are, it’s really old secondary growth. Perhaps old enough to be non-virgin primary growth. Don’t know the age of Samwell Pond, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s at least a century old. The quarry itself was probably abandoned long before it and the surrounding land was flooded when the dam was built.

“Anyways, took me a while, fuck you very much, but here you are.” He looks me up and down with raised eyebrows. “Didn’t expect this.”

I’m just glad that he didn’t find me while I was having the attack. Still, I scowl back. “What’s so strange? Students play in the Pond all the time, and last I checked the park has a ‘swim at your own risk’ rule.” Then I realize that the water’s clarity means that he can easily see my briefs as I keep afloat. “Also what I have on has nothing on the stuff, or lack thereof, idiots have worn around town.”

Ransom mulls that over and shrugs with a chuckle in acknowledgement. “I’m more meaning that it’s the middle of fall.”

“It’s a nice day.” Possibly the last nice day in a while if the forecast’s correct. “Isn’t Toronto supposed to be around the same temperature?”

He snorts. “You picture me going out for a Halloween plunge in Lake Ontario?”

To my own surprise, I bark out a small laugh. “Guess not.”

Satisfied with my swim, I climb out, shake myself off, and hop back onto the sun-warmed rock to lie down to bask and dry off. I don’t miss that Ransom’s staring at my arms and hands, which I keep balled up. While he thankfully doesn’t say anything specific, he still asks, “Are you going to be alright?”

I give a shrug of my own. “I’ve had worse.” Guess it’s already time to face the music. “So when do I need to clear out my locker?”

“Don’t be dramatic, Dex,” Ransom huffs while kicking his shoes off, plopping down on the ground next to my rock so that we’re eye level, and swinging his feet over the edge. “So you two got in a little tiff. Okay, a major tiff. Still, you should have seen some of the tirades Jack meted out. Especially at Bitty. They got pretty epic.” For good measure, he pops those last few syllables and kicks at the water to send it upwards into a sparkling arc.

“Sure, but I bet they weren’t regular. Let’s face it: there’s no way Nurse and I get along, the other D-men are already paired up, and the team clearly likes him more. Hell, I know I’m good on the ice, but I’m certainly not spectacular like you or Holster. So if I were in charge and had to trim things down, I’d bin me first.”

Ransom widens his eyes at my admission, and even I’m a bit surprised how easy it is to say that.

Maybe I really don’t belong here.

“Fuck,” Ransom breathes as he squints at me, “you’re serious aren’t you.”

I just shrug at that. “Don’t want pity, if that’s what you think.” I really don’t. I wouldn’t mind if people here actually managed to see things from my perspective, but there’s no point in being broken up about them not understanding.

That doesn’t mean I’m going to be a doormat if shit’s thrown my way.

Minutes of silence pass between us. Silence that Ransom breaks first: “Two weeks.”

“What?”

“Give your partnership with Nursey two more weeks.” He holds up his fingers for emphasis. “If you both truly think this pairing is a disaster, then I’ll talk to Jack and the coaches to see if we can work something out.”

That’s more than cutting it close if they think something can be worked out before the season really starts getting into the swing of it. I squint up at him. “You really think two weeks will make a difference?”

Ransom shrugs. “It might. Better chance than if we don’t try anything. And seriously…”

“Yeah?”

“You two fit together better than you think.” Ransom doesn’t acknowledge my scoffing but instead holds his hand out. “So do we have a deal?”

“That assumes he wants to stay partners with me.” The image of Nurse flinching back from me plays on repeat, and for some reason my stomach clenches at it.

“I’ll talk to him.”

Like it will do any convincing. Whatever, it’s two more weeks. “Don’t get your hopes up,” I mutter as I shake the offered hand.

Deal settled, the two of us continue staring out at the Pond and university itself in silence once more.

And once more, Ransom disrupts it.

“Dex?”

To my surprise, Ransom’s voice now sounds stilted and hesitant. When I look at him, his face is a neutral mask except for a clear twitching tension within his jaw. Considering the air of confidence he always shows in his casual banter and poise, the unease that he’s radiating makes me sit up and turn towards him. “Yeah? What’s the matter?”

“What did you mean when you told Nursey that he’s ‘given everything’?”

That’s what he’s so conflicted over? “What do you think I meant? Just because Nurse has been swaddled in luxury doesn’t give him the right to lord it over me.” As I’m talking, it dawns on me why Ransom was so apprehensive. “Wait, I don’t have a problem about you and the rest of the team being rich. I don’t have a problem with him being rich. If I hated rich people, I wouldn’t—”

Ransom holds his hand up to stop my rambling. It doesn’t escape my attention the massive exhale that he releases. “It’s okay. It’s o—“ The words die as his brows pinch together. “Wait, no, it’s not okay.”

The backtrack puts me at a loss. “What are you talking about?”

Ransom stares at me, opening and closing his mouth as if he’s ready to say something but holding back. Ultimately he shakes his head and looks away. “Nope. Nah. Not doing this.”

What. “What?”

“Even if I didn’t have a meeting later in the afternoon, I’m not putting myself through this. At least not right now.” I try to ask him to clarify, but he just continues: “Go to the library. Talk to someone willing to discuss with you. Except for Shitty; he’s smart and a great guy with great intentions, but…”

“No fucking kidding…” Nurse is obnoxious enough, but I don’t know what I’d do if Knight was a D-man I had to be paired with. I've been civil and deferential all this time, but I’m not going to go out of my way to be chummy with that lefty-than-thou blowhard.

Ransom must have heard my muttered statement, as he lets off another sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “See, it’s shit like that why the team… nevermind.” He shakes his head. “Look, all I’ll say is that Nursey probably didn’t think you were yelling at him for being rich, and remembering some of the stuff he talked about may help you figure out what I mean. Also there’s a term that I recently learned that might be useful to you: ‘Intent versus Impact’. If you think you got it figured out and want to make sure, then we can talk.”

“But you’re barely giving me anything to figure out!” It’s fucking ridiculous. Why should Nurse get any sympathy from me if I don’t even know what supposedly bothers him?

My protests are answered with a snort. “Like you’ve been forthcoming about yourself.”

Ransom’s disdainful scoff feels like a slap in the face, and I can’t help but reel back a bit.

He must notice my reaction, as his voice softens. “I don’t want you to think I’m unwilling to talk if there’s anything you need help with. But William?” Both the use of my first name and the plea in his voice makes me look up at him. Really look at him to see lines of worry etched into his face. “We’re a team. I’m not saying that you should bare your soul. But we can’t have your back if you shut us out.”

A stiff breeze makes me pull my knees up to my chest.

I don’t need anyone to have my back. I’ve already said what I’ve needed to say. No reason for anyone to go out of their way for me. I did alright before, and I’ll do alright now.

Still, I humor Ransom: “I’ll take that into consideration.”

His raised eyebrow makes it obvious that he doesn’t believe me, and he looks ready to call me out on it. Ultimately he just shakes his head before glancing at my clothing nest. “Anyways, I was just coming to check to see if your computer’s alright.”

At least that’s something straightforward I can talk about. “I need to wait for it to dry first. Then I’ll check if there are any issues.”

“Well, I hope there aren’t any…” That air of pensive awkward settles over him again.

This time, I huff, “If you have something to say, just say it.”

Ransom allows for another minute or so before speaking: “You can’t afford a replacement, can you.”

Is he just figuring that out? “Well technically, I have enough money to buy one…” Really don’t want to elaborate beyond that.

I don’t have to. Ransom wide-eyed stare and the sharp exhale tells me that he's read between the lines. I’m still baffled that he didn’t know, but I’m also beyond thankful that he’s not showering me with platitudes or falling over himself with guilt.

“If it’s truly busted, I’ll see if I can rally the guys to help you replace it.”

“I don’t need your charity,” I growl. I’m completely sincere when I say that I don’t mind that my teammates are rich. But like hell I’m going to let them pay their way into my good graces or buy themselves a pat on the back because they are oh-so-generous. And like hell I’ll let Nurse buy himself out of the mess he made.

Ransom sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose again. “Then don’t think of it like that. Think of it as a team expense to make sure that things run smoothly. After all, the last thing we need is for the loss of your computer to put your academics at risk, which would put your athletics at risk, which would disrupt team dynamics,” he notes while ticking off each stage of the scenario with his fingers and waving them in my face. “So it’s not just about you.”

Well, when he puts it like that, the last thing I need is to be a burden on the team. And if they— fuck dammit, he’s good.

I take a deep breath. “If, and only if, anything needs to be replaced, it will probably just need to be a part and not a full replacement.” Not to mention that I would need to figure out how to repay them.

Hopefully it won’t come to that. It better not come to that.

For once, Ransom is satisfied with my response and relaxes fully to pipe, “Sure thing! Just let us know.”

“Also… do you think you can refrain from mentioning this spot? I’m not saying to keep it top secret, and I know it’s public land anyways.” Hell, for all I know, people come here all the time, and I just caught a lucky break today. “But it’s nice to have a quiet place, just in case.” Not to mention that the last thing I want is for this patch of forest and pond to become sullied by a kegster crowd.

For one reason or another, understanding dawns behind Ransom’s eyes even though he keeps his tone light. “I don’t think you have to worry about crowds of people here.” He scowls at the surrounding vegetation with suspicion. “But how about this: I’ll keep it on the lowdown if you help guide me back to civilization. Deal?”

“You do know that I practically came here by accident, right?”

He shrugs. “Even if you did, I trust you to find a way out. Faster than me for sure.”

I blink. I mean, I’m not exactly surprised at the assertion that’d I would be better at navigating a forest than most of my teammates. Haven’t made it secret that I hunt, after all. But that one trusts me to lead him out catches me off guard.

Once I get my bearings straight, I murmur, “Deal.”

Ransom flashes one of his trademark smiles and holds his fist out, and his smile widens when I bump it.

He has a really nice smile.

#William Poindexter #Derek Nurse #Justin Oluransi #Omgcp #omgcheckplease

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jaehyun-eclipsed · 4 years

Text

Before I Met You | Nine

Updates: Sundays, ~8 PM EST

Pairing: NCT (Jaehyun, Lucas, Mark…) X Reader/OC

Genre: Romance, Angst, Coming of Age

Summary: Four. There were four people before I fell in love with you… Here are their stories.

Author’s Note: I’m going to update the masterlist with a bit more of an outline so you can see what’s coming up next! Thanks for following along this far!

Before I Met You Masterlist

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Mark [10:30 AM] What do you feel like eating?!

Me [10:40 AM] Umm how about Thai?

Mark [10:45 AM] YES! WATERMELON JUICE!!! 🍉🍉

Me [11:00 AM] Lol 😂 I have class until 12:30. Let’s meet at 12:45!

“Yo, I love watermelon!” Mark says as he eagerly sips from the black straw in his drink. “Anyway, I just wanted to thank you again for helping me out so much this semester. You literally saved my life.”

“You’re welcome! I’m glad I could help.”

“Honestly, though! I had a C in lab, but with your help, I’ve gotten it to a B!”

“Yay! That’s so great!”

He twirls some noodles onto his fork, placing them into his mouth and humming with satisfaction. “So now that the first year is nearly over, how do you feel?”

I push a carrot around on my plate, contemplating my answer. How do I feel? I feel better. Better, now that you’ve become a part of my life. You’re my first real friend here.

“Um, I guess I’m relieved.”

“Oh?” There’s a pause while he considers my response. “You didn’t like it?”

I sigh. “No… I don’t know, I – I just haven’t been very happy here. I mean, in the beginning, I tried to put myself out there and make friends. I’m pretty introverted so it’s challenging sometimes.”

“Oh really? You seem like someone that has it easy making friends… I thought you seemed really nice.”

Ha! Most people think I’m intimidating…

I scoff. “Really? No, I’m pretty quiet and I don’t smile much.”

“You smiled at me…”

Yeah, there’s a reason for that.

“Well, anyway I had befriended some of my floormates when we met at the dorm meeting and we would go out and get boba or ice cream at night. I thought I was adjusting quite well. I tried to avoid calling my parents too often because I didn’t think they wanted to hear from me every day, but that barely lasted a week.” I blink back the tears forming in my eyes before they have a chance to stream down my face. “And then soon enough, I was alone all the time. I was never in the mood to be around people. So after declining multiple invitations to hang out, they just stopped asking me and I would just spend the days studying for exams without getting the results I actually want.”

His expression saddens, as if he wished that we had met earlier… that he could have been there for me earlier. I won’t make this a question of fate, but I won’t say I didn’t wish for this to have happened earlier either. But better late than never, right?

“Do you ever talk to your friends from high school?” he asks.

I shake my head. “Not really. My best friend Hana never answers the phone and I’m not as comfortable talking to some of my other friends about these things. So…” I trail off. “Though, one of my friends asked me if I had thought about transferring to the nearby state college at home…”

“Is that what you want?”

“No.”

Truthfully, I didn’t want to do that. There was a financial loss associated with it and I couldn’t stand to go back to the state college that most of my high school classmates were at. I wasn’t friends with most of them and to some extent, I feared the judgement of what they would think if I returned – that I had the audacity to leave something that so many others want: the prestigious out-of-state college experience. And what was I leaving for? Because I couldn’t make friends and felt homesick all the time? No one would understand that. I suppose I could just say it was a matter of cost… but then I’d just be stupid for having gone at all in the first place.

But then again, does it really matter what they think?

“So what do you want?”

I think about his question for a moment. What do I want? “I don’t know.”

“I’m not just saying this to make you feel better, but I do think things will get better for you. It just takes some time,” he says. “That’s what being out of your comfort zone does to you.”

I look at him quizzically. “Hm?”

“You moved away from home for the first time, right?”

“Yes…”

“That’s a big transition, you know? You have to get used to a brand new city all by yourself! Of course there are going to be some challenges. But that’s also where you’ll do the most growth.”

I’ve never had a heart-to-heart conversation with Mark – we usually talked about chemistry or classes or current events… So this is the first time I’ve been able to see that Mark is surprisingly wise. It contrasts with his seemingly young and innocent demeanor.

“And it’s hard when the people you’re trying to become friends with are dealing with the same challenges,” he continues. “You can’t help others easily if you’re struggling a lot yourself. But it also shows you that you’re not alone in your struggles… even if it feels that way sometimes.”

“I suppose you’re right,” I say. “I know that if I had stayed in my hometown and went to the local state college, I’d probably live at home and commute to school. It wouldn’t be much different from high school.”

“Yeah! You’re only going to grow if you do new things and put yourself into new situations. So as you get used to this place and figure out how to get around and adjust, you’ll be fine!” He grins at me. “Plus, you have me now.”

I offer a half-smile and lower my gaze. “Thanks.” But soon, I grow curious as I look back up at him and rest my cheek on my fist. “You seem happy. How did you adjust so well?”

“Me?” He looks surprised, then let’s out a breath before shaking his head. “Adjusting was hard for me too.”

“If that’s true, you’re awfully good at hiding it.”

He keeps his gaze on the table, a small smile graces his lips. “I’m glad you think so. But I’m just like everybody else. Though, I do like to travel and meet people so it’s just easier for me to find distractions.” He shrugs. “We’re all struggling in some way on the inside,” he says solemnly. “It’s just that some are better at hiding it than others.”

We’re all just amateur actors in disguise.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to unload all of that onto you.” I gnaw at my bottom lip. “It’s just that… you’re the first person I’ve felt comfortable around in a while.”

“Oh that’s okay! We all need someone to talk to sometimes. So I’m glad I can be that person for you.”

I’ve never been good at getting out of my comfort zone – I don’t think anyone really is. It’s hard to do something new because, well, it’s new. And now, with technology and social media, we expect instant results – instant gratification. But things take time. Anything worthwhile takes time. I know Mark is right… it’ll get better eventually. I just have to be patient.

“So on a lighter note,” I begin, “what classes are you going to take next semester?”

“Oh, I’m not gonna be here next semester.”

What?

I blink at him, trying to comprehend what he just said. “You’re not?”

“No, I’m going to England for a study abroad program. I got a full scholarship.”

I barely process what he’s said before I feel my heart plummet. “Oh – oh wow! That’s exciting!” I say, trying my best to hide the disappointment I actually feel. “Just for a semester?”

“It’s for a year,” he says. “So I’ll be back next year!

I’m sure the shock on my face is evident as Mark’s face flashes a look of concern. Before he can say anything else and though it doesn’t reach my eyes, I smile widely. “That’s going to be so much fun!”

He hesitates, a sorrowful half-smile on his face as he looks down at the table again, hyperaware of how he’s probably just made me feel absolutely terrible after I had the courage to share my feelings of unhappiness with him. I can tell he feels guilty, considering I was bold enough to admit that he’s the first person I’ve been able to confide in since I’ve arrived.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to spend more time together... I wish I could’ve been around earlier.”

“Well, it is difficult to meet someone if you don’t know they exist…”

“Yeah, but even so. I wish that we had crossed paths earlier…” He sighs. “But when I’m gone, I’ll write letters to you!”

I look at him dumbfounded and shift my eyes around the restaurant as a crooked smile makes its way onto my face. “Umm… We have phones, you know? And email… and instant messaging…”

“Yeah, I’ll use those too!” he says quickly. “But haven’t you ever had a pen pal?!”

“Uh, yeah, back in the sixth grade…”

“Oh my gosh!” Mark practically jumps out of his seat. “That must have been so much fun! I’ve never had a pen pal and I like the idea of letter writing. I don’t do it too often, but I’d like to!”

“Are you really going to write letters to me though?” I ask skeptically.

“Of course!” he insists. “I promise!” A pause. “So, you’ll be my first pen pal?!”

With a warm and genuine smile, I say, “Yes, I’d love to be your pen pal.”

“Awesome! I’m so excited! Let’s take a picture, okay?” He reaches for his phone in his pocket. “I don’t have any with you.”

To say I felt disappointed was an understatement. I was devastated. For the first time since I arrived on campus, the constant feeling of loneliness was starting to disappear. I was… happy. I had finally found a friend that I was comfortable around and could connect with. I know he’s only going to be gone for a year, but it already took nearly a year to find him in the first place.

And just like that, he was gone.

Mark [9:31 PM] Hey I really enjoyed spending time with you today 😊

Me [9:33 PM] I did too! Thank you for lunch!

I sigh, contemplating on whether to send the next message, ultimately deciding I have nothing to lose.

Me [9:35 PM] Low-key, I’m sad you’re leaving

Mark [9:40 PM] I know! I am too! I love it here, but I’m really excited to go to London!

Mark [9:43 PM] But, listen, you’re gonna do great! You’re gonna make so many new friends! And I’m always just a call away!

I really like Mark as a person. I guess you could say that I have a crush on him, but now would be the wrong time to tell him.

As finals were coming to an end and the stress and studying could slow down, I spent more time thinking about Mark’s imminent departure for London. I knew we would keep in contact, but I wanted to give him something as a memento of our short, but very precious friendship. And so, during my study breaks, I crafted something for him.

Me to Mark [11:15 AM] Hey! Are you free today? I wanted to say goodbye since I know you’re leaving tomorrow!

Mark [11:30 AM] Yeah! I just finished my last final! Are you at the dorm? I can meet you outside in 15 min!

Me [11:32 AM] Yeah! I’m at the dorm! I’ll see you then!

“It’s a – ‘see you later’ gift… Something to remember me by.”

I wanted Mark’s present to be special and I was quite crafty when it came to homemade gifts. Mark is an avid traveler and his Instagram page is filled with photos of his adventures. I found a hardcover notebook with a metal clasp; the cover was illustrated with a globe of the world, embossed in gold trimming. Searching through his Instagram pictures, I collected the photos and made an intricate collage to decorate the inside covers.

He’s nearly speechless as he opens the cover, tracing his fingers along each photo. “Yo! Really?!” He covers his mouth with his hand. “I – I don’t know what to say.”

“I thought you might like to have all of your memories in hand, literally. It’s a journal – you can jot down notes or whatever in it… Oh and I left a note on the first page.” I look up at him. “Do you like it?”

He suddenly throws his arms around me. He’s warm and I can smell the softest hint of cologne. “I love it! This is – no one’s ever given me a gift like this before!” His arms tighten around me. “I’ll miss you so much!”

“I’ll miss you too…” I say, my face pressed firmly into his chest.

More than you’ll ever know.

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Before I Met You Masterlist Masterlist

#nct #nct 127 #nct u #wayv #cznnet #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jung yoonoh #nct lucas #lucas wong #wong yukhei #superm #nct mark #mark lee #before i met you #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct angst

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emmerrr · 5 years

Note

#17 for pynch? :)

17: “Ugh, why did I eat that?” (i have no idea how i got to this fic from this prompt but…here we are. also now i’ve finished all of them so GOOD FOR ME!)

Morning arrives unwelcome.

Adam’s instantly alert upon waking up, not like the usual half an hour it takes him to become somewhat coherent and cognitive. The other side of the bed is empty but still warm, and he can vaguely hear the shower running, so Ronan’s obviously only just got up. He doesn’t know what time it is, but he knows he needs to be on the road by midday unless he wants an absolutely hellish journey.

He also knows he doesn’t want to leave.

It’s always hard to say goodbye at the start of a new semester, but there’s always been an undercurrent of excitement there, too. The anticipation of classes and settling into a new routine and getting to learn new things. This time, all Adam feels is dread. It’s never been like this before; never has the prospect of a new semester made him clam up and lock down. Never before has everything inside him just said no quite as emphatically as this. Not about school.

The shower clicks off and Adam quickly reaches out and grabs his phone to check the time. It’s only just after seven so he puts it back, pulls the covers up higher to hide most of his face, and shuts his eyes.

A moment later the bedroom door opens and Adam listens to Ronan putter about, opening and closing the closet as he dresses for the day. Then the bed dips next to him and Adam feels the heat radiating off of Ronan, fresh out of the shower. It’s quiet for a few seconds, but then Ronan exhales slowly, and runs the back of his fingers down the side of Adam’s face. The touch is so light that Adam’s not sure he hasn’t imagined it, and it takes everything in him not to open his eyes. But the minute he does, Ronan will know that something is wrong, and Adam doesn’t know how to explain.

He just needs a moment to decide where the feeling is coming from, so he can pick it apart and then put it aside.

A kiss is pressed to Adam’s temple, and then Ronan’s weight is gone, his footsteps cross the room, and the door shuts with a quiet click behind him.

Adam is alone, and he opens his eyes.

He touches his face where Ronan’s hand just was. This, he thinks, is what I’m going to miss.

He wonders if it’s perhaps because it’s winter. They’ve just spent the holidays together and the Christmas decorations are still up, and it’s so much warmer in the Barns than it ever gets in the tiny off-campus apartment Adam shares with two other people. He had exams and deadlines before the holidays so the time off has been completely blissful in that he’s had literally no other obligations. He’s just been able to enjoy himself, and enjoy Ronan.

Maybe it’s because he’s now halfway through his third year, and the novelty has worn off, and the knowledge that he still has a year and a half to go until graduation is now just a heavy weight in his mind.

Adam doesn’t want that to be the case. But he’s trying to be honest with himself about how he feels, and at the moment, college is absolutely the last place he wants to go.

He so badly wants to stay.

Deciding that maybe a shower will bring him more clarity, Adam drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom.

It’s still steamy in there from Ronan’s shower and it is nice to stand under the hot water and wash the night off. He feels refreshed by the time he gets out and hunts down some clothes, but then he has to pack his PJs in his duffel to take back to school and his mood instantly sours again.

He thinks about the long drive ahead of him, about having to stay up late tonight to register officially for his new classes at midnight, about having to meet with his study group tomorrow. He doesn’t want to do any of it.

He wants to go back to bed with Ronan and sleep until he can face the world again.

Adam trudges quietly down the stairs and stops at the bottom of them. He can see into the kitchen from here; Ronan is pouring batter into a waffle iron. The side door in the kitchen bangs and Opal trots in, and Adam hangs back to watch. No one has noticed that he’s there.

Opal steps up to Ronan and pulls on the bottom of his sweater. “Here,” she says as he turns, and holds something out to him. It’s a sandwich. “For you.”

Ronan arches an eyebrow sky high and Adam smiles despite himself. “You made this?”

Opal nods proudly.

“Is this fit for human consumption?”

“Duh,” Opal says, and Adam can’t fully see her face from this angle but he can imagine her rolling her eyes, a gesture she learned from Ronan. And to be fair, it certainly looks like real bread, although the fact that she’s brought it in from outside is highly suspect.

“Alright,” Ronan says, accepting the offered sandwich and taking an absolutely enormous bite, which is either incredibly stupid or incredibly brave.

He chews, pauses, then hurries to the sink to spit it out. “Ugh, why did I eat that?”

Adam laughs lightly but something tugs in his chest. He can’t leave them, he doesn’t want to leave them, can’t he just stay…

He steps into the kitchen and Opal runs straight to him and grabs his hand, twirling around. Ronan turns around and points at Opal accusingly. “You said it was fit for human consumption, brat. Dirt sandwiches are not people food.”

“They are if you’re not a coward,” she sing-songs back, before laughing and running back outside before Ronan can catch her.

Ronan grabs some milk from the fridge and drinks straight from the carton to try and dislodge the taste.

“Manners, Lynch,” Adam says, grabbing it from him and pouring him a glass instead. He hands it over and Ronan drinks it down greedily. “Honestly, what were you expecting?”

“I dunno. Nutella?”

Adam shakes his head, but he’s fond, so fond. “My favourite thing about this is that she specifically took bread outside to make that. Like…she could have just used tree bark or something, but no. She committed to tricking you into eating dirt and it just worked.”

“Well I’m glad you enjoyed it so much, Parrish.” Ronan downs the rest of his glass of milk and puts it down next to the sink, then heads over to the waffle iron. “Anyway, I’m making waffles. You want any?”

Adam does want waffles. He wants nothing more than to sit down and eat a mountain of waffles and then retreat into the living room under a blanket where he and Ronan can make out until the sun goes down. Then he wants to do it again tomorrow.

It’s an overwhelming want, and Adam’s shaken by the force of it. He’s no clearer to discovering the source of the feeling, or why it’s affecting him today when he was fine yesterday.

It feels cruel to tell Ronan somehow, but Adam can’t help it. He can’t keep this inside. He loops his arms around Ronan’s waist and presses his forehead into the back of his neck.

“I’ll take that as a yes to waffles then,” Ronan says, a laugh in his voice. But when Adam doesn’t respond, Ronan reaches up to hold his hands. “Parrish?”

“I don’t want to go,” Adam says, but it’s quiet and it’s muffled against Ronan’s back.

“Adam?”

He leans back which gives Ronan the space to be able to turn around to face him, and he cups Adam’s face with his hand, his expression concerned.

Misery overtakes Adam and he looks at the floor. “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay here.”

Ronan remains absolutely frozen for a few seconds, but then he blinks slowly, sighs, and smiles sadly. “You’ve got classes, Adam. And a schedule. But you’ll be back before you know it.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, you do,” Ronan says, and his eyes narrow slightly.

Adam is abruptly annoyed. “Your waffles are burning,” he says curtly, and Ronan turns around with a curse, rescuing his waffles which are now blackening around the edges.

He tosses them onto a plate but leaves them on the counter, turning back around to Adam and crossing his arms.

“So what,” he says, and good, he’s annoyed, too, “you’re staying now?”

“Well apparently I’m not welcome,” Adam snaps, feeling awful, and is this what he’s doing? Picking a fight to make it easier to leave? That won’t work, he knows distantly that it won’t. But he wants Ronan to hold him close and say that he can stay forever and that isn’t what’s happening, and Adam doesn’t know how they got here.

“Don’t fucking do that, I never said that and you know it’s not true. This is your home, Adam, as much as it’s mine.”

Adam feels too in it to back down now. “Then fine, I’m staying. I said I wanted to stay so I’m staying.”

Ronan throws his hands up. “Okay, great, you’re staying. So you’re dropping out of college then?”

Adam pauses. “I didn’t say–”

But Ronan bulls on. “Do you want to tell them, or should I? That they can give your scholarship to someone else, that all the work you’ve put in so far means fuck all now?”

Adam scowls. “I get it, Ronan.”

He’s on a roll now. “Come on then, let’s drive up there and get the rest of your stuff. May as well get it over with. It’s a great fucking day for a road-trip.”

“I said I get it, you can stop now, I’m obviously not dropping out,” Adam snaps and he turns on his heel and walks outside, stopping briefly in the porch to pull on some wellington boots; just because he’s storming out doesn’t mean he wants to get frostbite.

He’s almost at the furthest field before Ronan catches up with him; out of breath, nose and cheeks rosy from the cold. He’s got his coat on though, and he has another one over his arm.

“Adam, I’m sorry, okay? Put this on.”

Adam stops walking and takes the coat, pulling it on. It’s warm and it smells like Ronan and all at once he’s had enough.

“Ronan,” he starts, and it’s all he needs to say. Ronan’s arms are around him instantly, safe and secure and unwavering. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Well I do,” Ronan says, and he pulls back so he can look Adam in the eye. “It’s a bad day. That’s all.”

Adam sniffs. It’s mostly from the cold. “A really bad day.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Ronan says, then offers a small smile. “If you really want to stay, you know you can. You can drop out of college and live here with me and work at Boyd’s or we could just live off family money, if that’s what you really want. But I don’t think it is.”

He scrutinises Adam for a reaction, and Adam scrunches his nose up distastefully and shakes his head. “No, that’s not what I want.” And it’s not, of course it’s not. Today’s meltdown aside, Adam loves college, and he’s worked hard for it, and he’s not quitting now just because leaving Ronan means leaving a piece of his heart behind.

Ronan kisses him, and it’s grounding and comforting and Adam melts into him. “One more Christmas like this,” Ronan whispers into the space between their lips. “Just one more, and then our time is our own. We can do this. Fuck, we’ve been doing this.”

Adam nods, and Ronan presses their foreheads together. “C’mon, Parrish. It’s freezing out here and there’s burnt waffles to eat.”

“I would’ve thought you’d prefer a dirt sandwich,” Adam says drily, and Ronan smirks.

“There’s the bastard I fell in love with.”

Later, Adam drives down the highway with one of Ronan’s mixtapes playing as loudly as the shitbox will allow. He glances down briefly and spies the soup-filled thermos that Ronan gave him before he left in the cup-holder. (”For when you get hungry, Parrish.”)

He has the memory of a thousand see you soon kisses repeating in his mind, he’s wearing Ronan’s hoodie, and he’s going to call home as soon as he arrives.

He feels better. And he smiles.

#the raven cycle #pynch #tumblr prompts #trc fic #trc

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max-is-tired · 6 years

Text

With This Dream, I Inflate (Painted Skies In My Brain)

Pairing: Logince, Sleepxiety

Characters: Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy Sleep Sanders, Dr. Emile Picani (mentioned)

Words: 2.631

Warnings: Some homesickness at the beginning (not major, but it’s there), swearing, nothing else I can think of

Notes: I am incredibly late, but finally @adultmorelikeadolt ‘s birthday fic is done!!! Happy very belated birthday Rem!!!

I started this fic three weeks ago, fully convinced this was gonna be a short thing... I never learn, do I? Nonetheless, I’m proud of how it turned out, and I’m 99% sure this is getting a second part because I just fell in love with this AU

Thanks to my amazing beta @tigertigertigger who makes sure the English language doesn’t kick my ass to the moon and back, you’re the absolute best

Hit me up if you want to be added to the taglist and let me know if you liked this, reblogs, comments and asks are always very welcome and much appreciated!

(P.s. Since Roman is Italian in this fic, translation for those few Italian expressions he uses can be found at the end of the fic!!)

Read on AO3!! Buy me a Coffee!!

When his best friend wins a scholarship for a one-year exchange in Europe, Virgil doesn’t think much of it.

Logan is incredibly smart, without a doubt the most gifted student their college has to offer -and he’s double majoring in Astrophysics and Chemical Engineering, so that’s no small feat.

So yeah, he’s not surprised when Logan -who’s also his roommate, since they’re both broke, caffeine-addicted college students- gets home one evening, a strange envelope in his hands, and announces he has been given the so agonized scholarship. Virgil simply raises an eyebrow at the barely-concealed look of relief in the other’s eyes, mumbling a smug “I told you so” accompanied by the best shit-eating grin he can muster and finger guns.

Their third roommate, on the other hand, is a totally different story.

Patton basically throws himself at Logan, squealing in delight while rambling about how proud he is. He then insists on celebrating, and they end up having an impromptu movie night, complete with pizza and a batch of Patton’s infamous cookies -which end up in Logan’s stomach after not even an hour, for the hidden amusement of his two roommates.

After that, it’s a blur of finals to take, forms to fill and planning to get done -because it’s Logan we’re talking about, and Virgil’s pretty sure he’s already got at least half of his year abroad panned out.

Before they know it, the semester has come and gone and they’re standing in the middle of the airport, Patton bawling his eyes out on Logan’s shoulder while basically smothering him in a hug. Virgil limits himself to an amused smile, to which Logan answers with an exaggerated eye-roll -even him, always the logical, can’t really hide the fondness in his eyes as he tries to calm Patton enough to at least be able to breathe properly.

Logan’s parents watch from afar, letting the boys have their moment. Then, the intercom calls Logan’s flight, and it’s time for the very last goodbyes.

+++

It takes them a while to adjust.

Patton and Virgil, now being each other’s only roommates, work to find a new routine that doesn’t have a Logan-shaped hole in it -easier said than done, that’s for sure.

As for Logan, well, his first weeks are a jumble of moving in, unpacking boxes, visiting the campus to get accustomed with his new surroundings and figuring out his new schedule -not considering the quite influent change of time zone, which takes him a while to get used to.

But the three of them are nothing but determined, and it doesn’t take them long to figure out a somewhat solid schedule for video calls that doesn’t force any of them to wake up at the ass-crack of dawn or staying awake until some ungodly hour of the night.

With this system put in place, it’s certainly easier to deal with the distance. They’ve never been separated for so long, their trio having been an integral part of their life since middle school. It’s hard for all of them, even if Virgil often tries to brush it off and Logan downright does everything he can to ignore it.

It helps more than they like to admit, having somebody like Patton in their group. He barely conceals his feelings, openly expressing them and giving both Virgil and Logan a chance to talk about their own emotional conundrums without directly addressing them.

And so another year comes and goes, they’re juniors in college, Virgil has somehow gained a boyfriend who’s more caffeine-addicted than him, and Logan is finally, finally home.

Everything’s fine, right?

Not quite.

+++

“Look!” Virgil whispers, shaking the person sitting next to him, “he’s doing it again!”

Remy grumbles, raising his head from its place on the desk to glare at his boyfriend, “what is it now?”

“It’s Logan!” Virgil explains, gesturing to the boy sitting a few rows in front of them. Remy doesn’t get what all the fuss is, really. Logan looks pretty normal to him, sitting straight -the only straight thing about the guy, probably- as he seems to be diligently following the ongoing lecture. How does he even do it anyway? It’s just so boring, the teacher has been talking incessantly for more than an hour now and the only thing Remy wants to do is take a fucking nap-

“He’s using his phone-” Virgil keeps going, completely oblivious to his boyfriend’s wandering thoughts- “and he’s texting someone!”

Well, now that Virgil has pointed it out, Remy can see the corner of Logan’s phone peeking out from between his notes. Huh, that’s strange.

“Wait just a sec, how do you know he’s texting? I can barely see the phone as it is, let alone guess if he’s actually using it or not.”

“That’s because you’re exactly behind him, idiot,” Virgil grumbles, eyes still fixed on his best friend’s back, “he’s got an app open, I can’t tell which one exactly but it’s definitely for texting. I’ve known Logan since middle school and he’s never used his phone in class, not once. What the hell?”

“Chill, Vee,” Remy yawns, settling his head back on the desk, “ maybe he’s finally loosening up a little. It sure as hell looks like that year abroad was good for him, uh?”

Virgil mutters something unintelligible under his breath, clearly still displeased, but he knows he really can’t, in good conscience, dispute Remy’s claim.

Because it’s obvious that, while it can't be denied that the previous year has been a stressful time for all parts involved, the Logan who has come back is different from the Logan they said goodbye to, that day at the airport.

It’s not a bad change, per se.

He’s just- softer, around the edges. He looks calmer, more perceptive of the world around him. His temper seems to have subsided -for the joy of literally everyone, doesn’t matter what Patton says- and he’s obviously much more patient.

He looks… content, Virgil thinks that’s the word he’s looking for. And that’s a good thing, don’t get him wrong! But no one can deny that Logan has changed, and change isn’t exactly something Virgil works well with.

It scares him because Logan has been a constant in Virgil’s life for almost as long as he can remember and now he’s different, somehow.

But he also looks happy, so Virgil just deals with his anxious discomfort, because he sure as hell won’t be the one taking that away from Logan.

He just wishes his best friend would tell him what the hell is going on.

+++

When they’re finally let out of the lecture -for the immense joy of Remy, who had immediately dashed out of his seat and yelled “Starbucks time, bitches!!” before bolting out of the door- Logan is obviously still in whatever conversation he has been keeping up for most of the class, checking his phone every few minutes.

The two of them are standing near some benches across from the science building, waiting for Patton to get out of his last class. It’s the perfect opportunity to ask Logan who exactly he’s talking to, but alas, anxiety is a bitch and it very much likes to make Virgil’s life a living hell.

So Virgil resigns himself to standing in silence beside his friend, wallowing in his curiosity as he begrudgingly watches Logan text the mysterious person with a strange smile on his face -which only makes Virgil more curious because he’s never seen Logan smile like that before, damn it, and he just wants to understand what the fuck is going on.

“V, Lolo!” Patton’s voice startles them both out of their thoughts, giving Virgil half of a heart attack and making Logan almost drop his phone.

“Hey, Popstar.” “Salutations, Patton.”

“Sorry, I’m late,” Patton giggles, quickly approaching the two, “Dr. Picani got us so invested in today’s lecture, we all forgot to check the time!”

“Lucky you,” Remy grins, coming up behind Virgil and draping an arm over his shoulders, “our lecture was so boring I slept through most of it.”

Virgil -who really doesn’t like getting startled every five minutes, thank you very much- turns around and punches his boyfriend’s arm, glaring.

“Ouch!” Remy yelps, fumbling with his coffee, “What was that for?!”

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before sneaking up on me like that, asshole,” he grumbles, “also, you always sleep through our lectures.”

Cue the Offended Gay Noises™, completed by Remy dramatically draping himself over his boyfriend. “The slander! The Betrayal!”

“Stop being a drama queen, you know I’m right. And get off of me!”

Patton watches the two bicker with a smile on his face, far too used to their antics to be worried.

“Ah, young love,” he sighs dreamily, “they’re just too cute, right Lo?”

Logan, however, seems to be completely unaware of what is happening. He’s frowning at his phone as if it has somehow offended him, typing message after message at an alarming speed.

“Logan?” Patton calls, trying to catch the other’s attention, “you okay?”

“What?” Logan startles, his head shooting up in confusion, “oh, my apologies Patton, I was not paying attention.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Patton chuckles, “is everything alright? I’ve never seen you use your phone so much, and you looked quite troubled back there.”

“Ah, no-” another chime from his phone makes Logan pause, groaning in clear frustration as he quickly answers yet another message.

“Apologies for worrying you, Patton-” he finally says pocketing his phone and pointedly ignoring its continuous chiming- “but I assure you, there is nothing to worry about. I’m just dealing with a rather obnoxious person who apparently enjoys making me lose what little patience I have.”

Patton cocks his head on one side, looking deep in thought before an all-too-familiar smirk slowly starts spreading on his face.

“Don’t you mean-” he says, barely keeping his laugh at bay- “that your patience is-”

“Patton Morgan Hart don’t you dare finish that sentence or so help me-”

“-infinitesimal?”

Logan lets out a loud groan of despair, Patton becoming a giggling mess beside him.

“You will never let this go, will you?” he asks, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Nope!” Patton grins.

“Are we making fun of Logan?” Virgil pipes up, “because I want in on that.”

“Can we change the subject? Please?”

“Don’t worry gurl, I gotchu,” Remy grins, eyes glinting behind his dark shades, “because I just remembered what I came back for, and this is a juicy one guys.”

“What do you mean?”

“Apparently we got a new entry from the exchange program and let me tell you, the guy is hot. He’s very good looking, smooth as fuck and I’m like, 90% sure he’s ripped or something. Like, totally illegal, I swear.”

Beside him, Virgil visibly stiffens, arm tightening around the others side, “and you know that because…?”

Remy huffs out a laugh at that, visibly amused by his boyfriend’s sudden jealousy.

“Relax babe-” he basically purrs, kissing his cheek- “you’re the only one I want. I just saw him in front of the main building earlier, he was very difficult to miss. Almost the whole campus was ogling him some way or another. I think he was actually searching for someone, I didn’t pay much attention.”

Logan looks at Remy with a thoughtful expression, clearly pondering something in his head.

“Out of curiosity,” he finally asks, choosing his words carefully, “could you describe this new exchange student?”

“Why, you interested?” Remy grins, wiggling his eyebrows, “careful Logan, your gay is showing.”

“Remy,” Logan growls -actually growls, what the fuck gurl- in annoyance, glaring daggers at him.

“Okay, okay!” Remy relents, raising his hands in surrender, “sheesh gurl, no need to get so worked up!”

He then taps his chin, thinking about his earlier encounter, “he’s on the tall side, wide shoulders, pretty sure he’s a theatre kid because he really looks like one. Brown hair, green eyes, I think he may be either Spanish or Italian? I don’t know, he had somewhat of an accent but I was too far away to be sure.”

“Thank god you didn’t pay much attention, uh?” Virgil mutters, rolling his eyes. Remy snorts, shoving him lightly.

Too busy with their playful teasing, the couple doesn’t notice the way Logan has suddenly stiffened, eyes wide as his mind seems to have suddenly screeched to a halt. It, however, doesn’t go unnoticed by Patton, who gives him a concerned look.

“Lo, are you alri-”

“Aha! Ti ho trovato finalmente!”

Four heads snap up in unison, turning towards the new voice. Standing a few feet away, the infamous new exchange student shoots them a grin, hands on his hips and green eyes trained on their group.

“Niente ‘ciao’? Did I finally manage to leave you speechless, nerd?”

Logan lets out something akin to a squeak -which he’ll forever deny having made- cheeks blazing red as he scrambles to regain his composure.

“R- Roman? What- what are you doing here?!”

Roman lets out a laugh, approaching the group until he’s standing right in front of Logan -the others seem to be too dumbfounded to react, one, because wasn’t kidding when he said the guy was hot, damn, and two, because they’ve never seen Logan so flustered before and honestly they’re more than a little confused right now.

“I may or may not have made a request for a semester abroad like, a week before you had to fly back? I got everything confirmed and ready to go just a month or so ago, so I decided to surprise you,” he shrugs, looking somewhat unsure, “so, uh, sorpresa?”

Logan blinks owlishly at him, clearly still trying to make sense to the situation. Then, he lets out a groan, hiding his bright red face behind his hands.

“You’re a pain in the ass and I hate you, stronzo.”

Roman laughs, shoulders slumping in relief, “God, how much I missed you.”

Then, under the three’s identical stunned gazes, he grabs Logan -who lets out a startled yelp- and dips him with a flourish, before winking and kissing him square on the lips.

Logan, who until that very moment had been as stiff as a wooden board, immediately melts in Roman’s arms, hands moving to gently cup the other’s face as he starts eagerly kissing back.

Snapping out of his stupor, Remy lets out a loud whoop, joined by Virgil’s sputtering and a very flustered Patton.

“Hello there, luce dei miei occhi,” Roman murmurs when the finally separate, smiling widely as Logan looks at him through half-lidded eyes.

Huffing in mock annoyance, Logan rolls his eyes and wiggles out of his arms, pointedly ignoring his still burning cheeks.

“Stop being so mushy,” he grumbles, fixing his tie.

Roman grins at that, looping an arm around Logan’s side, “Please sweetheart, we both know you love it when I'm mushy.”

“Okay okay okay, what the everloving fuck is going on here?!” Virgil suddenly screeches, breaking the little bubble that had formed around the two in a million pieces.

Finally recalling that his friends are, in fact, present and have probably seen the whole scene, Logan suddenly looks like a deer caught in the headlights, blush coming back full force as he takes in Remy’s shit-eating grin, Virgil scandalized expression and Patton flustered face.

Seemingly unfazed by the whole scenario, Roman presses their bodies together and gives the three a dazzling grin, green eyes twinkling in barely hidden amusement.

“Ciao a tutti! My name’s Roman, I’m a theatre major and I’m also Logan’s very handsome Italian boyfriend!”

“You have a boyfriend and you didn’t tell us?!”

Logan groans, hiding his face in Roman’s chest as his asshole of a boyfriend lets out a boisterous laugh.

Ooh boy, this is going to take a while.

+++

Translations:

“Ti ho trovato finalmente!” => “I found you at last!”

“Niente ‘ciao’?” => “No ‘hello’?”

“Sorpresa?” => “Surprise?”

“Stronzo” => Italian insult, I honestly can’t think of an accurate translation :’)

“Luce dei miei occhi” => “Light of my eyes”

“Ciao a tutti!” => “Hello everyone!”

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inkofamethyst · 4 years

Text

May 8, 2020

Yes, I know it’s 4:00 am. Yes, I should be asleep. Yes, I did take a nap so I’m not as tired as I otherwise would be.

Day 129 of the cute campaign: Today was a cute day!! I had to film a presentation for my humanities class (hopefully to be submitted by tomorrow), so I dressed up nice (I mean, I was wearing jeans with holes, but the video only shows my top, so,). The whole point of this personal campaign is teaching myself that it feels good to look good. And I think that counting the days (similar to the 100 days of productivity studyblr trend) kind of keeps me on track? Like, I know that in the evening (or in the wee hours of the next morning), I’ll be writing about what I’m wearing.

Day 57 of The Q: We’re gettin’ close lads. In just another week, the semester will be over and done. Finals and alladat. As for the states reopening... well, we’ll just have to see if Georgia residents are alive in the next two weeks, won’t we? If they are, then maybe I’ll get to go back to campus in the fall. I feel really bad for all of the people who don’t have family relationships as great as mine though. Also: still no response on the scholarship refund situation.

Y’ALL. Aight so I had two “midterms” today for calc 3 and organic chemistry, right? I was stressin’ ‘bout my orgo exam last night because I only understood about half of the test (substitution, elimination, alcohols, ethers, epoxides, synthesis(!)). I was up late studying last night and I skipped my math lecture so that I could study before the exam was released. It ended up not being that bad at all? Like, so not bad at all that I ended up getting a 101% on it!!!!!!! That was 15% higher than the average (on previous lecture exams I’ve only been ~10% higher than the average). It actually brought my grade right up to an 89% from an 86% which is wack.

I also got the final grade back on all of my clicker question mini-quizzes for that class for the semester, and I gotta say, getting a 90% overall is really so lovely to see. Like, these mini-quizzes were assigned Wednesday nights and due by Friday’s lecture, and they were always challenge problems based on the lecture theories we’d learned that week. Much harder than anything we’d see on an exam. I poured hours into each question (2-3 on average, probably, for each quiz), knowing that they would a) help buffer my grade even if only slightly and b) help my understanding of the material even if I got a question wrong. When we were on campus, I could get away with giving up on a problem because I could come to lecture and we were allowed to discuss our answers with the class before submitting them via clicker. Now that we’re home, the questions are done almost completely individually (unless there’s a group chat that I’m not in), so I have to do the whole quiz myself. It’s... not been easy. But seeing that 90/100 points (when the top score was a 90.5 (and the lowest was a 40/100)) was really just a lovely sight to see.

So, yeah. One more assignment left for orgo (worth 200 points, mind you) and then the final (and also a participation grade). I can do this.

As for calc, I’m not as confident. I took the midterm today after watching the lecture recording from this morning and while I got an answer for each problem that I feel is plausible, the point distribution for each problem really threw me off. Like, I honestly don’t know if I’m going to end up with a 100% or an 80% on that exam (a 100% would really be nice for lifting me from an A- to an A (that distinction, unfortunately, will make a difference for my GPA, and since the class is basically an elective at this point, I’d really like to not lower my GPA over it)), but both could be possible, unfortunately. I’m going to remain optimistic though. Maybe I’m just overthinking it, and the professor decided to simply make some problems easier than others. Yeah, hopefully.

Today I’m thankful for that sweet, sweet 101% on my orgo exam. I’m also extremely thankful for my orgo TA who is the best TA I’ve had so far. He puts so much work into making sure that we learn the material both with conceptual depth and so that we do well on the exams. He was an undergrad a my university too, so he knows the struggle. Also he provides a list of 15-20 songs to check out each week from a variety of genres, he wears shirts with chemistry jokes, and I think I’ve only seen him in pajama pants. So, yeah, he’s pretty dope. Hopefully my TA next semester is just as effective, if not more so.

Good morning! Good night!!

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shittyfandomimagines · 6 years

Text

Money is a Bitch

Angsty Fluff

Word count: 2,189

GIF creds to owner

“Have you seen my wallet?” Shawn peeked his head in as I was jotting down some notes. I lift my head up to see his face, he looked worried.

“No babe, I haven’t. Do you want me to help you look?” I ask as I put my book down beside me. “Yeah only for a few minutes, I know you need to study.” He flashes a smile through his panic. I get off the bed and head straight for the closet. I sift through the drawers to make sure he didn’t put there or lay it on top.

I go to our shared bathroom that was connected to our room, I clean up the countertop to make sure it wasn’t overlooked. I check the drawers and I even looked through the pockets of all the clothes that were placed in the hamper.

When I come out of the bathroom I see him going through his bedside table, he was huffing loudly, I could easily tell that he was panicking. I sit beside him on the bed and rub circles on his back. “It’s okay Shawn, just take a deep breath,” I tell him and he tries to.

“I’m panicking y/n. It has all of my cards, cash, and ID. I can’t let anyone get a hold of it.” He seemed in pain as he said it, I knew it was bad but I can’t imagine someone just losing their wallet.

“How long has it been gone?” I ask and he tugs on his curls harshly. “Well, I noticed that I couldn’t find it the other day but I didn’t really need it because I kept some cash around the house.” He admits and I nod along, have you checked your bank statements?” I ask and he nods. “No activity yet.” He says and I smile slightly.

“That’s good though! If no one is using the money of a well-known musician, then it can’t possibly be stolen.” I try to be optimistic but I could tell that he wasn’t buying it. “And if it is, they can take all my information too. Might as well move out of the house because they’d have the address too.” He was honestly catastrophizing, he was just assuming the worst.

“Babe, it’s going to be okay. I can help you go look downstairs.” I soothe and he shakes his head. “You need to study for your psychology final.” He states as he leans over to kiss my cheek. “Are you sure?” I ask and he nods, we both stand up. “You’ve got this,” I say as I tugged at his shirt a little. “Thanks, you too.” He kisses my cheek once more before walking out of the room.

I go back to writing down notes on my notecards, I really didn’t see me passing this exam. I really fucking need it to be done with this semester, I was so close to being done with my bachelor degree. I spent 4 years taking many classes of different phases psychology and even internships. I’m so fucking worried that if I fail this then I’ll have to retake this class and not have my graduation this year.

I write down more things about how vital educational psychology is for the school systems and for parents, I skip through the pages to find a quote from John Dewey, who was someone who first educated people about this line of study.

——

When I finished my notecards, I put them on a ring so I could flip through them easier. I started asking myself the questions and then try to answer them. The more I looked at the notecards, the more uneducated I felt.

“Shawn, can you bring me my other stack of notecards from my purse?” I yell and I hear him affirm that he would. I continued to study for my final as I waited for Shawn, it was taking longer than usual. “Babe?” I call out because it shouldn’t have taken too long. When there was no reply, I decided to get off of the bed.

When I walked down the long hall, I could see Shawn staring into my purse. “Shawn, they should be right on top,” I say as I get closer, I noticed that his fists were balled up, his jaw was clenched tightly. “Shawn?” I ask as I come up right beside him. “Did you seriously lie to me about my wallet?” He asks and I furrow my brows. “No! Of course not!” I was offended that he even asked.

“Then why the fuck is it in your purse?” He asks angrily and I shrug, I honestly didn’t remember because my thoughts have solely been focused on my exams.

“I don’t know Shawn! Why does it matter and why are you so angry?” I cross my arms and he just fucking laughed, he was so beyond pissed. “Because isn’t it convenient that it’s in your purse of all places?” He chuckles and I knew where he was going with all of this.

“I obviously didn’t take any of your money Shawn, I don’t need your money. You’ve already said that you had no activity on the cards.” I was trying to defend myself but I could tell that he wasn’t buying it because of how red he was in the face, his usually understanding mind was being distorted with anger.

“Yet, there wasn’t any activity yet. You probably needed to pay off all your college debt, I mean it’s almost time for your graduation anyways.” He sneers and I couldn’t even fucking believe him. “You’re seriously accusing me of trying to use your money to pay my bills? Wow Shawn, wow.” I shake my head and step back.

It hurt to think that he believed I would stoop so low as to use his money behind his back. I hardly ever asked for anything, I mean the last thing I remember that I asked for was a package of Reese’s from a gas station like last week.

“Well I mean it’s not the first time I’ve come across a gold digger.” He crosses his arms and I felt like I had been throat punched. I knew in my mind (after all of the classes I’ve taken) that he was only reacting because we both didn’t know why it was there and he was already anxious over it. However, in my heart, I felt like he was serious over the fact that I could do this to him. We’ve been together for 2 years and we never had to deal with this.

“Shawn, do you know where that bag came from? Walmart. Do you know where your wallet came from? Gucci. Wanna know where I got this shirt? Goodwill. Do you know where your clothes came from? Because I sure as hell don’t, I don’t familiarize myself with expensive brands. If I wanted something expensive I would’ve asked you 2 years ago.” I scoff and he just seemed annoyed still.

He picks up the wallet to check it out, there was obviously some cash in there because the wallet was bulging. Him even checking it sent me into overdrive.

“For your information, I hardly have debt because I was smart and went to a cheaper college. I did my homework over it, I applied for any scholarship that I was applicable for. And the fact,” my voice became grainy and it cut out because of the knot in my throat,

“The fact that you just assumed I stole money or would’ve even tried to says a lot about you, Shawn. I am not ashamed of myself at all because I know I didn’t take it, I’m ashamed of you.” I let the tears surface and I grab the notecards from my purse. I run back to our room quickly.

I shut the door and lock it, I didn’t want him even talking to me until we’re both calmed down. I knew from many sit-ins from my previous internship at a couples therapy that the most damage was created from anger.

—-

I told myself I was going to study and not be distracted from Shawn’s accusations, but I was. I was hurt and I felt betrayed in a way, I would have never stooped so low if I were the rich one. I just hated the fact that I didn’t know why it was in my purse, I had no memory of it and I feel like I should.

I know Shawn is untrustworthy when it comes to meeting new people, he has always been afraid that no one wants him for his true self, but his money. I never wanted his money and to be honest, I didn’t even know Shawn was famous when we met. I didn’t listen to pop music and I was hardly on social media because I was a full-time college student, had 2 jobs, and was doing internships.

I just felt myself sigh and I finally closed my book, I shoved the notecards into my bedside table and picked up my mess. I needed to talk to him, I needed to be validated and make sure he knew I was trustworthy.

“Shawn?” I ask as I come down the hall, he was sitting on the couch. The tv was on but the volume was so quiet. He jumps slightly and then turns to look back at me. He stands up quickly and I had my hands clasped together, I have never felt more awkward.

I could tell by his body language that he was sorry and that he didn’t know how to approach the situation.

“I didn’t take your money or steal your wallet. I don’t know how it got there.” I was being truthful and he nods. “I went back to check my bank statements, I used it the night we went to the hockey game. Then I remembered how I asked you to put in your purse because it was hurting the way I was sitting.” He explains, once he said it I remembered that night because I was wishing that my wallet was thick enough to hurt me when I sat down.

I chuckled a little at the memory and he looked relieved to see me laughing. “I remember that now, but why would you just assume I was trying to steal your money?” I ask and he just looks to the ground.

“I’m sorry, really. I know we’ve been together for 2 years but I never know anyone’s intentions anymore. I lose friends and I’ve lost old girlfriends over it, I just don’t want you to be one of them.” He admits and I can see that he was hurt to even mention it.

“Shawn, I have never and will never ask for money. I don’t want you to feel obligated to buy me things because you’re my boyfriend, I’m literally in love with you for a different reason.” I tell him and he seemed intrigued. “What is the reason?” He asks and I smirk.

“Obviously it’s for your body.” I joke and he just laughs as he shakes his head. “I can’t deal with you.” He says and I reach out for his hand.

“In all seriousness, I love you because you’re the best guy I have ever dated. You’re funny and so adorable. You give the best massages and you always hug me tightly. You let me wear your non-expensive shirts, you always compliment me, you never make me feel unloved. You hurt my feelings earlier but I didn’t feel like you weren’t in love with me, you just made me feel like I was using you. I never would do that to you.” I rub his forearm and he nods.

“I should’ve of never accused you of that, I mean you literally only ask for cheap things like candy. I mean you wouldn’t even let me pay our bill for our first date. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings and I should’ve just listened to you.” He admitted and I nod, I put my arms around his waist and push him into a hug.

“I don’t like fighting with you because I have been in the psychology classes for a long time,” I tell him and he pulls out of the hug. “I know and I’m sorry I’m such a grumpy asshole a lot.” He pecks my lips quickly and I nod.

He was running one hand through my hair and one against my jawline. “You’re not a grumpy asshole all the time. I mean you go through your man-period but I love you anyways.” I joke and he just rolled his eyes. He kisses my lips again and I smile.

“Do we need to study for the test?” He asks and I nod quickly. “Please,” I reply and he takes hold of my hand to drag me down the hall. “Can you just pay off my teacher?” I joke and he just shakes his head.

“The money joke won’t end now, will it?” He asks and I shake my head.

“Nope, you played yourself.”

In case anyone wants to know, I’m in the process of making a masterlist. I was gonna do it this afternoon but I had a dr appointment, so I’ll take care of it soon!

#shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes masterlist #shawnmendes #shawnmendesblurbs #shawnmendesimagines #shawnmendesmasterlist #masterlist #fandom

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