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#end it all. a few years back now bc i was at a new low
mewrails · 4 months
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i accidentally pulled like. the third all nighter of the year
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nylarac · 6 months
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many thoughts in my head
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nwjws · 8 months
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in my head - yjw
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; pairing - jungwon x fem!reader
; synopsis - you’ve hated jungwon ever since you two met on the train to hogwarts back in first year; he’s self-centered, lazy, and always coming out for you. now in your seventh year, you’ve been named head girl (woohoo!). unfortunately, the head boy position was given to the one and only yang jungwon (boohoo…). with no other choice, you’re forced to face the annoyingly attractive boy and work with him for the rest of the year - if you can even last that long.
; tags - fluff, angst, crack, ravenclaw! headboy!jungwon, slytherin! headgirl!reader, rivals to lovers, enemies to lovers, hogwarts au (with a modern twist), bc they have tablets and stuff
; warnings - a little bit of swearing, a lot of hostility between yn and jw, lmk if i missed anything!
; wc - 12.9k words (umm.... have fun!)
teaser
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everyone’s eyes are on you as you stand up at the front of the great hall while the headmaster - professor bang si hyuk - introduces you as this year’s head girl. looking at all the students staring back up at you, you almost feel proud of yourself (keyword: almost). 
you’d think someone would be overjoyed at being acknowledged and recognised enough to have been given such a high position, but you aren’t. 
instead, you’re silently fuming, just barely keeping your temper in check as you plaster a fake smile on your face. your eye twitches as you hear a low chuckle from-
“the head boy, yang jungwon!” the headmaster announces. cheers erupt from around the room, all clapping for their new heads. 
“i can feel the waves of anger practically radiating off of you,” he murmured quietly.
yang jungwon. 
the boy you despised so much. 
listen, you don’t really hate anyone, but you’re pretty sure that what you feel towards the boy you called ‘yang’ is close enough.
in all your six years at hogwarts, you two have constantly been at each other’s throats. arguments often broke out between you in corridors; fights wherein one would end up stupefied or thrown against the wall; even little sabotages against each other that were subtle enough that teachers could pass off as an accident or your own fault rather than the other’s. 
for example, back in third year, yang had tripped you on your way into the great hall after everyone got off the hogwarts express. you had flashed everyone behind you and scraped your knee when you landed on the ground.
although no one saw him do it, you immediately knew who the culprit was, especially when he smirked down at you over his shoulder as he walked ahead. oh how badly you wanted to slap that smile off his face in the moment.
you retaliated the next week by mixing his white laundry with red clothes, so he was forced to attend his classes with pink uniform until he got new shirts. nothing satisfied you more than the glares he sent your way throughout the first day of his pink week, you could feel him boring holes into the back of your head even when you weren’t looking.
making your way back to the slytherin table, you thought back to when you got that fateful letter a few weeks back.
you slid the window open after spotting an owl from afar flying towards your house.
the bird flew in gracefully, and dropped your letter from hogwarts on the kitchen island counter, accepting the treats offered from your hand.
“y/n, please. close the window, would you? it’s so windy outside - it’s blowing away my papers!” your mother scolded from her seat at the table.
“sorry, my bad! i just got my grades.”
“ah really? let’s see it then.”
you scanned the letter, satisfied to see an O on all your subjects. although they weren’t your final NEWTS grades, they were an indication of how you did throughout sixth year according to teachers’ assessments. 
you’d been nervous at seeing anything below an O, but your friends had told you not to worry all summer.
“you’ve never dropped from the top rank in our year ever since first year, why would you now?”
“hiyyih, it’s only because of how much i’ve studied, but what if the expectations this year are higher? what if it’s not enough? what if i spent too many free periods sitting with you guys by the lake instead of-“
“be for real, you only did that twice! you’re the only person who’s actually spent their free periods studying,” rei said.
“well that’s what they’re supposed to be used for!”
“who actually does that! besides you, of course.”
“rei’s right, even yang jungwon often spends his frees with his friends.”
“that’s why he’s number 2,” you roll your eyes. “maybe if he studied during his frees, he’d finally get that number 1 spot he's been telling me he'd get for years.”
“it’s the fact he doesn’t have to study as hard to easily get second top student in our year. besides, weren’t you just worrying about not being first this time ‘round?”
that set you off into another episode of wailing and worrying about your results.
reading the letter, your eyes zeroed in on a shiny gold badge attached to the bottom.
  dear kim y/n,  we are pleased to inform you that you have been chosen as head girl for this upcoming academic year. you will be working alongside the head boy, yang jungwon, and all prefects across the four houses. you and the head boy’s duties will be relayed to you after the sorting ceremony. congratulations once again, you are well deserving of the title. sincerely, headmaster bang si hyuk
you still remember your mother questioning you after watching your figure suddenly go from jumping around the kitchen all giddy, to sulkily dragging your feet to the table.
of course, you were honoured to be picked, but did they really have to choose your enemy as your partner? i mean, the whole school knows about your rivalry, and you guys have been told off countless times by teachers! so was this really a smart idea?
when the ceremony ended, one of the professors led you and yang to the head dormitories.
(a “benefit” of being one of the heads was getting your own room, separate from your own house dorms. but you’d still be sharing the common room with yang, so that wasn’t exactly the biggest plus in your books.)
“as you can see, you will have separate private rooms, each with their own bathroom,” the professor pointed at the doors on opposite sides of the common room.
“but you two will share this living space. there’s a little library in the corner as well. 
“now for rules..." he started listing a bunch of obvious rules - like what's allowed in the head dorms and what isn't, when you can bring your friends, etc.
“and last but not least, you aren’t allowed in each other’s private quarters,” he paused before glancing at both students. “although, i don’t think that’ll be a problem.” 
he’s right there, you thought bitterly.
the idea of even sharing the common room with the boy irked you, let alone entering his own room. you could only imagine all the stupid tricks he was planning on you right now - but you were doing the same.
after the whole ordeal, the professor finally left you two alone, but not before telling you that you should start planning out the prefects’ patrolling schedules so that you could meet up with them as soon as possible.
you and yang stared at each other for a moment, apprehension hanging in the air. this is the first time you two have directly looked each other in the eye tonight.
“so… i guess we should get to sorting out those schedules,” he breaks the silence, gesturing to the scroll of names in your hands, which the professor had left with you.
nodding, you followed him to the large table in the middle of the room, where you’d hold a meeting with the prefects tomorrow morning.
“here’s the list of all the prefects, plus their student ID numbers.”
“okay, we can use those to add them all into a group chat on hog-messages and inform them of the meeting tomorrow.”
one of the newer developments at hogwarts in recent years was the addition of electronic tablets given to every student, so they’d be able to communicate faster with each other. it had an app programmed within it called ‘hog-messages’ where students could message each other or their teachers, and create group chats, all activity being monitored by staff.
the tablets also allowed the students to be able to write notes down on it, but most teachers often preferred all homework to be written on paper scrolls anyway. 
all this was provided by yang enterprises.
yup. yang was the son of the wizard who introduced muggle electronic devices into the wizarding world, instantly boosting their family into riches and success.
the world was given to him on a silver platter, so he’s always had it easy. and unfortunately for you, the boy not only grew up snobby and privileged, but was smart too. 
coming from the muggle world, you entered the wizarding world with an open mind. despite this, you hated the ravenclaw almost as soon as you met him. 
his ego was high up through the roof way before he’d even been placed in the house, and he emanated a strong intimidating aura. as soon as yang saw you on that hogwarts train, he turned his nose up at you like you were dirt before you’d even spoken a word to each other.
nonetheless, you managed to work out a schedule together smoothly. but the lack of clashing heads for once put you on edge, you felt like something was just wrong.
“alright, i’ve sent a message to the group,” he said, staring at his screen.
“okay…” you trailed off, unsure what to say. “um, let’s be civil this year, yang,” you say instead, putting a hand out.
the boy looked up at you, before glancing down at your hand then laughed in disbelief. as if you had said you were going to run 100 laps around the castle.
“duh, i knew that when i got the letter. that doesn’t need to be said. are you an idiot?”
now it was you who stared at him in disbelief. there’s the yang you know.
lowering your hand, you scoffed and stormed into your room, which was luckily closer so you didn't have to spend another second looking at his pretty face.
you should have known nothing would ever change. you can’t believe you almost thought that yang had changed. of course he’d never grow up, maybe he was just made this way. 
on the other hand, the return of his ugly personality brought you some comfort. it was just something you were more familiar with. you weren’t used to the driven and focused attitude he had on earlier when sorting out the schedule, and you’d prefer to keep it that way. 
unpacking your bags and showering before changing into pajamas, you set an alarm for 6:30am, so you’d have time for the meeting at 7:30 and can end it before classes began at 8. you went to bed feeling prepared for tomorrow.
the next morning however, you woke up late. 
the sunlight seeped in through the curtains, and after a moment, you checked your phone for the time.
8:34am
crap.
you practically jumped out of bed and began to frantically get ready, pulling on the first shirt and skirt you could grab from your closet.
why hadn’t your alarm woken you up? you set the alarm two hours earlier. had you accidentally typed 630 into the calculator app instead from a tiring day?
however, when you check your alarm clock, you saw that it had been turned off. although, you clearly remember pressing save and checking that it was on before tucking yourself into bed.
you pause as you brush your hair, your thoughts coming to a stop.
it was yang, you realised. 
is this his idea of civil? you wonder what he's on as you slip on your uniform in panic. 
quickly brushing your teeth, you put on your tie as you ran out the room, a chill hits you when you remembered the prefects’ meeting you were supposed to have this morning.
oh my god, they probably think i'm an irresponsible head girl. there’s no doubt the bad impression being late on your first day as head girl would leave on not only the students, but the teachers as well. 
will they revoke your position? will they give the badge to another, more responsible girl? who preferably doesn’t have beef with the head boy? 
you cringed at the thought you might be punished because of something entirely yang’s fault, and he’d get away with it. as he always does. 
you ran down the moving stairs, almost slipping off the edge when it suddenly changed paths, towards your first class as you cursed out the head boy in your mind. 
but soon enough, nervousness took over as you neared the classroom.
there was only about 15 minutes left of the period, so was it even worth it to go? and besides, yang was in this class too. you’d hate to see the gloating smirk on his face when you enter and get scolded by the professor.
before you could decide however, the door opened, revealing the very boy you’d been planning revenge on all morning.
yang didn’t look surprised to see you there, evident by the grin on his face.
he faked a shocked tone though, when he announced your presence to the professor (and the whole class).
it goes without saying that you definitely had a bad morning, being held back in class for another half hour to make up for what you missed that morning. 
thankfully, you had a free period next, so you weren’t missing your next class this time.
although you hated yang jungwon with every fibre of your being, you weren’t a snitch. you wouldn’t dare expose him - mostly because it would be useless. who would really believe you, when you were already messing up so early in the year? and certainly not when it accused the school’s beloved heartthrob. 
so you took your punishment on without a complaint, pointedly ignoring yang the rest of the day, who didn’t even try to hide his smile.
you sighed as you made notes on griffin claw substitutes, all alone in the potions classroom.
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september and october rolled by; even though you and yang continued your little pranks and tricks on each other, you guys managed your head duties just fine. he did his work and never slacked, so you were satisfied.
you had gotten your revenge on yang by charming his wand to vibrate uncontrollably two days later. you remember barely being able to hold in your laugh as you watched him struggle to conjure a flock of birds, an explosion of feathers popping from the tip instead.
from what you heard, he also struggled in his other classes you didn’t share, which delighted you to no end. 
“what are you skipping around all giddy about?” hiyyih asked you sceptically.
“just that yang seems to be struggling in herbology class, according to jang wonyoung.”
“what did you do?” rei eyed suspiciously.
“how could you accuse me of doing something?” you gasped.
“it’s pretty obvious - head boy and student #2 wouldn’t just struggle in a class he’s always done well in,” minji shrugged.
you rolled your eyes at your friends, but then smiled cheekily when you admitted how you’d snuck into his room that morning and cast a charm on his wand with a spell that would only stop after twenty-four hours.
“okay, that’s pretty funny. i’m gonna have to ask wony about it later,” rei laughed. 
your phone buzzed, and upon checking it, you were surprised to see a text from the one and only yang jungwon.
Hog-Messages YANG JUNGWON (ID: 78395) professor kim wants to see us
“speak of the devil,” you tell your friends and show them your screen. 
you watched as the three glanced at each other, equally surprised.
“wow, a text! from yang jungwon! and it’s not some evil curse or cryptic message!” hiyyih remarked, which you nodded to in agreement. 
rei laughed. “you guys act like he’s incapable of simple communication; he’s just relaying a message.”
“sometimes rei, i think he is,” you joked.
YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 professor kim wants to see us
KIM Y/N ID: 78384 when?
YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 after classes today at his office
KIM Y/N ID: 78384 ofc it’s at his office, you think he’d want to meet us in the restrooms?
YANG JUNGWON ID: 78395 i hope u fall off your broom on the pitch also come un-charm my wand or something right now.
KIM Y/N ID: 78384 can’t 🤷‍♀️  sux 2 b u
"honestly, if i didn't know better, i'd think you two had a hate-love relationship," minji teased.
"ew, anything above dislike is something i will never feel for yang jungwon," you scrunched your nose in distaste. how could minji even think something like that?
"whatever," she snickered.
arriving in front of the professor’s office door, you opened it to find jungwon already inside and seated on one of the chairs opposite the teacher’s desk. you bowed in greeting before taking the other empty seat.
“so,” professor kim started. “we need to talk about your behaviour as the head students.”
you gulped. had you done something wrong? were those threats to revoke your position on the first day real? 
looking over at your co-partner, his face was unreadable, as always. he looked perfectly calm, which infuriated you.
“as head boy and girl, you two are setting the standard for the rest of the school. you guys are supposed to be role models. but i’m sure you already know this.” professor kim paused and looked at both of you intently before continuing.
“so why is it i’m finding out that you two have not been doing your patrols together?”
oh. so that’s what this is about.
you and yang had completed one patrol session together on the first week of school, and it’s safe to say that it was… horrific. without going into too much detail, you guys had practically argued the whole two hours that night; although it was unlikely, if there were any couples making out or young students causing trouble, they probably heard you two from a mile away and hid before they were caught.
at the end of the night, you both agreed that you’d just swap your schedules and patrol with other prefects - possibly the only thing you two had ever agreed on.
“we weren’t aware that we had to patrol together,” you replied when the head boy was clearly not going to speak up first. what a pussy.
it was a lie; you guys obviously knew that head students were supposed to patrol together. having been prefects in previous years, you knew how things worked. it was why you had done the first patrol together after all. 
but you figured that since it wasn’t a specifically given instruction, you didn’t actually have to do it together.
professor kim stared at you two incredulously for a moment, his expression somewhere between exasperation and disbelief. a pool of anxiousness swirled in your stomach at the way he sighed and pinched his nose bridge frustratedly.
“listen, i don’t know what si-hyuk was thinking when he had chosen you two as the heads, given your history and all. but he chose you. so please show that you’re worthy of the title - let go of your childish rivalry. otherwise, we may actually have to find new head students.”
“you could just let go of her, professor. i’d be able to work with any other girl,” yang finally spoke up. of course the first thing he'd say is an insult.
you gasped and glared at him. 
“clearly, you’re the one who’s childish and immature here. maybe you should be the one to get replaced.”
“enough!” the teacher slammed his hands on the desk. “if you two keep this act up, we will not hesitate to replace you both.”
and so with that, you and yang left the office in uncomfortable silence. not a word was spoken between you until just before you parted ways.
“guess we’ll use the old schedule again,” he said. you nodded.
being the end of the day, you were both too tired to argue. the heavy workload that comes with NEWTS in addition to the responsibilities of your positions, you both left for your own common rooms without sparing another glance.
the dreaded patrol round came sooner than you would have liked, and you found yang waiting by the castle doors. you always seemed to be the later one, as if he’d placed a curse on you with that trick at the start of the year.
he kicked himself off the wall he’d been leaning against when he saw you, and began to walk without so much as a ‘hi’ or ‘let’s go’. you had to quickly jog to catch up to him.
the air between you two as you walked around was silent and tense, so thick that you could probably cut it with a knife.
surprisingly, yang was the first to break the silence.
“i was thinking - we should plan the first hogsmeade trip for this term.”
“mhm,” you hummed in agreement. “i think it’s best to have it after the quidditch match in november.”
“yeah, at the end of the month. and people would be able to go before the winter break.”
you fished your phone out from your pocket and opened the calendar app.
“when should we have it?"
yang leaned over your shoulder to look at your screen. “let’s have it on the twenty-seventh," he says, pointing at the date on the calendar. "it’d be good to have the week between the match and the trip free so we can prepare.”
you nodded as you listened, typing up a reminder to speak with the professors about it. 
“hey!” the head boy suddenly shouted, causing you to jump. “what are you kids doing here?”
you looked up to find he had opened a classroom, in which three students in around 4th or 5th year were standing. they stared up at the pair of you with wide eyes, like a dear in headlights.
“what are you doing?” you asked, regaining your composure. looking at their ties, you realised they were in slytherin, like you.
the students glanced at each other worriedly and slowly backed away from the two of you. you noticed them hiding something behind them on the desk.
pointing your wand at the items behind them, you summoned it nonverbally, yelling ‘accio!’ in your mind. the items flew into your arms.
“you all better go back to your common room. it’s way past your curfew,” yang warned them. “20 points from slytherin.”
the group shuffled out of the room and quickly ran back to the dungeons.
“isn’t 20 too many?” you grumbled. maybe you were a little biased since they were in your house though.
ignoring you, yang sighed as he turned back to look at the contents in your hands.
“what is it?” he asked.
upon closer inspection, it seemed to be the plannings or blueprint of a large snake puppet that moved on its own, the quote ‘slytherin slays’ painted along its body.
you held back a giggle as you read the notes on how to make the snake glare and breathe flames out when faced with a ravenclaw. yang snorted as he read them as well.
“you slytherins are always so immature when it comes to quidditch matches.” you rolled your eyes and glared at him, imagining you were breathing flames like the puppet snake.
“at least we have a strong sense of support for our house. what’re you birdies doing? painting little flying banners that the players won’t be able to read on the pitch?”
“my team doesn’t need to read our house’s support. we’re good enough and know if.”
“sounds like there’s just no house spirit.”
“say that to me when your team loses,” he challenged.
“you’ll be waiting forever then,” you retorted.
“let’s place a bet. 20 galleons that ravenclaw wins.”
“fine! if we wins, i want you to pay my monthly subscription in an online game for a year."
“what?”
“i need money," you huff, crossing your arms indignantly.
“you need muggle money.”
“well, yes. but i mean, you can convert your wizarding money into muggle money, then pay for my monthly subscription in a game so i get game money.”
“that sounds useless; for a kids’ game? and you called me the childish one?” he raised a questioning eyebrow.
“i wouldn’t need to find peace in an online game if you didn’t bother me all the time, you know," you complain. "you’re like a piece of gum i can’t get off my shoe.”
“you could just cast a spell to get the gum off,” he shrugged.
“you’re right, i’ll just cast a spell on you!” you smile brightly. “stupe-“
“oh my god, okay! i’ll pay for your stupid game - if slytherin wins, which you won’t.”
you smiled to yourself, a skip in your step for the rest of the patrol.
soon, the day of the match arrived; ravenclaw against slytherin (because of course it was). 
the morning of the match was lively as usual, everyone split between green and blue. 
you watched the large snake float above everyone’s heads in the great hall, breathing (harmless) flames into every ravenclaw’s face. 
just at that moment, you bumped into the trio of students who’d been planning the little surprise. you sent them a discreet smile.
“20 points to slytherin,” you awarded for the clever trick, but also to make up for the twenty that yang had taken.
suddenly, you screech when a flock of small origami birds flew and pecked at your hair, ruining the braid you’d put your hair in for the match. 
looking up, you noticed the small paper birds flying about the hall, pecking at every slytherin-supporter. this was definitely ravenclaw’s idea; no doubt yang had gotten inspiration from the those students you two had caught.
“you good, kim?” a familiar voice greets you. you turn to see the devil himself smirking at you, pleased with the mess you are.
“i was, until you got here.”
“maybe it’s a sign that you’ll lose today.”
“maybe it’s a sign you should shut up.”
the match started without a hitch. 
you scored the first 10 points of the match within 6 minutes, and by the first half hour, slytherin was ahead by 30 points. 
you enjoyed the thrill of being a chaser, trying different ways to get the quarrel past the keeper. in fact, you enjoyed flying in general, and being on the pitch.
that is until, you started getting pestered by the other team’s seeker.
you noticed yang seemed to be flying around you after a few laps, and sent him a questioning look.
“what are you doing, yang?”
“looking for the snitch, it’s my job.”
“well, i’m not the snitch. so keep looking!”
“well i’m certainly looking at a similar word.”
it took time to process what he meant, but when you realised, you glared at the boy.
“focus on the game- if you keep your eyes on me, you’ll be paying for my subscription soon!”
yang scoffed and looked away, searching the pitch for the snitch, sending you a glare before zooming away.
the game ended in slytherin’s favour, your team’s seeker barely clutching the golden ball in his hands before the head boy could reach it.
cheers roared across the stadium when it ended with your team’s success, students running onto the pitch in excitement to congratulate you and the other players.
“seriously, the way you threw the quaffle into the hoop while gliding through the air - it was so smooth!” minji gushed as rei nodded in agreement. 
“let’s go, there’s going to be a congratulatory party in the common room!” rei says, taking your hand to drag you.
“can i come?” asked hiyyih excitedly, who was a gryffindor.
“duh!”
you laughed as you followed your three best friends, when you caught sight of a certain person in the corner of your eye.
“wait, i have to do something real quick,” you pause to tell the girls. they stopped as well and looked at you curiously.
“what is it?”
“wait for me. i just need to talk to yang - head stuff,” you tell them off-handedly, before running off to the ravenclaw team.
“it’s definitely not about ‘head stuff’,” hiyyih nudges rei, who nods as they watch you leave.
you make your way to the losing ravenclaw team, even congratulating some of them on a good game. 
when you reach your target, you tap on his shoulder to get his attention, before smiling triumphantly up at him (wow, you never realised how much taller he was than you until now).
“what is it, kim?” he drawled with an eye-roll.
“the bet. i won.” you gloated, the smile never leaving your face, widening instead when he wore a look of disbelief.
“oh, right.” he sighed before scratching the back of his head, looking around thoughtfully. “let’s sort it out tomorrow, at patrol.”
“okay! don’t back down from your end of the bet.” 
“i may hate you, but i’m not a sore loser. see you tomorrow night, kim.”
“with my monthly subscription payment!” you say, waving tauntingly as you ran back to your friends.
“what did you need to talk to him about?” minji asked, putting her hand out to hold yours as you four made your way to the slytherin dungeons.
“we’re making monthly plans to help a student who needs it,” you say smugly.
“sounds like you’re twisting the truth,” rei laughed.
“but it is the truth!” you protested.
you found yourself happily scrolling through the game's catalog, looking to spend your newly-bought robux.
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ever since your deal on the match, you found yourself slowly warming up to yang.
well, not to the point you’d consider each other friends, but you acknowledge each other in passing with a nod or quick wave instead of pointedly looking the other way like usual.
you also argued less, much to the relief of the entire school. however, they were still apprehensive, waiting for something to blow up eventually. it was simply too suspiciously calm and quiet without your voices yelling down the hall or in the corner of a classroom.
as the weeks went on, you two learned to get along better and better everyday, even willingly becoming partners in potions once.
sometimes, you would walk to the great hall together for lunch or dinner after a meeting. you even spent your free periods with yang, which you told your friends was because ‘they didn’t have any frees with you’ so you ‘might as well spend it productively’ with the head boy who coincidentally shared the same free periods schedule.
you did lots of stuff together, as expected of the head girl and head boy.
yet, you always avoided studying together.
others might think it’s because of your rivalry; how one might copy off the other’s or something.
sure, you laugh to yourself. let people think what they want.
but the idea of studying with yang again brings back memories of fifth year.
you didn’t tell anyone about it, not even your own friends. 
at the end of the year, you’d been practically glued to the library for two months, studying for your OWLs.
“mind if i sit here?” 
you turn up to see a familiar face.
“yang?”
“there’s no other free space in the library,” he rolled his eyes, making up an excuse.
looking around, you realised he was right. the only other free spots were next to students that were notoriously weirdos who everyone avoided. maybe he doesn’t want them to copy off his work, you think to yourself.
“um, okay,” you agreed hesitantly while sucking on a sugar quill, moving some of your books to make space for him. those sweets often helped you focus.
yang pulled the seat out and sat down, before beginning to study himself.
you tried to continue as you were, but had lost focus. not even the green apple-flavoured sweet in your mouth could help you concentrate.
you were hyper aware of his presence - the way he hunched over the table with his hair falling over his face. you watched him from the corner of your eye.
why had he chosen to sit with you? were there seriously no better places to go? what about his room? the astronomy tower? the little corner window by the potions classroom downstairs?
“relax. i can feel how tense you are from here.”
“does your oh-so-precious pure-wizard blood give you the ability to sense emotions like a dog?” you scoffed. he looked up sharply and gave you a serious look.
“i just want to revise for my OWLs; let’s keep our disputes outside the library, where we won’t get hexed by madame park over there.”
you rolled your eyes and kept your head down, going back to your own business.
over the course of the month, a routine slowly began wherein you would often study together in the library. 
sometimes it was you joining him instead, and you would just wordlessly take the seat opposite him. even when there were other spaces to sit, you two always chose to sit together in the corner table, hidden from the rest of the school.
a word was never spoken between the two top students. and you never told your friends about the little arrangement either.
his presence quickly became something of a comfort for you - it was easier to focus on your studies when he was there. and if you ever needed help with something, he’d give you a few pointers when you finally begrudgingly asked.
he never asked you for help though, which always reminded you why he was number 2. it infuriated you how you had to work twice as hard than him just to barely surpass the boy.
whenever you heard people talking of him in passing, he was always nicknamed ‘the prodigy boy’. what were you called? ‘the girl that was good for a muggle-born’.
he was your rival, but you weren’t his. and he’s made that clear since the day you met.
and yet, despite all the resentment you held for him, you enjoyed his company. OWLs were stressing the life out of everyone, but it felt like you could get through it with him sitting across you.
maybe it’s because he motivated you to keep working harder, to try more so you could widen the gap between your ranks. seeing him everyday reminded you of why you tried so hard. maybe you wanted to show him (and everyone else) that being muggle-born doesn’t mean you’re any less than those born in this world. 
at least that’s what you told yourself. 
but it doesn’t explain why you began to glance at his lips every time he sat across you. 
it doesn’t explain why butterflies began to flutter in your stomach when you felt the warmth of his body close to yours as he’d lean over your shoulder and point at the book when you asked for help. or why you felt giddy when you’d play with each other’s feet under the table.
until one day, he’d dropped his smart-quill on the floor, and you were quicker to kneel down from your seat to get it. 
“here,” you said, handing him the quill, still on your knees on the floor.
as you faced him, you realised the close proximity only then. 
you stared into his eyes that pulled you in, keeping you locked and unable to escape from his gaze. he stared right back, the quill forgotten in your hand, which now lay on his left knee.
you didn’t even realise the way he slowly leaned down until he cupped your cheek.
his touch was soft; you leaned into it. 
“is this okay?” you could barely hear him whisper over the rapid beating of your heart. all you could do was nod.
your eyes fluttered shut as your lips finally connected. a mix of pretty emotions burst in your stomach, filling you with a giddiness you never knew before.
it might have been just a few seconds, or it could have been hours - you didn’t know. that first kiss was everything you ever imagined it to be.
you pulled away first, finally running out of air. but he chased after your lips, kissing you again. 
the memory of your first kiss will forever be cemented in your memory. you were just two 16 year olds, softly holding onto each other in the corner of a library, hidden from the rest of the world.
you scrunch your nose at the bittersweet memory. who would’ve thought your first kiss would be with the person you hate the most in this world. 
when you returned to school for sixth year that september, yang acted like nothing happened between you two. 
he ignored you for the first month of school, not even bothering to taunt you like he used to. everyone had been stumped, including you, but he eventually went back to his usual tactics, albeit with a noticeable lack of ‘stupid muggleborn who can never be on our level’ comments. soon you two were back to your regular bickering as if he didn’t ignore your existence for the first month of school. 
as if you hadn’t shared a kiss just three months before.
now, your developing friendship scared you. you didn’t want a repeat of last time; his actions had really hurt you back then.  
you remember all the nights you spent in the library, waiting. waiting for him to come, to explain why he was acting like that. waiting for something.
thoughts ran through your mind, trying to reason why he might do this. maybe he realised he didn't feel for you the way you felt for him. maybe he went back to his room that night and wiped all the muggle germs off his face. maybe he realised he was too good for you.
you remember all the times you cried yourself to sleep, eyes puffy for weeks that even your teachers asked if you were okay. if maybe you’d eaten something bad or been cursed. that maybe you should go to the infirmary to fix it.
hiyyih, rei, and minji had no idea how to help you, because you refused to tell them what was wrong. 
and you never did. it’s simply too embarrassing. explaining that you kissed your number one enemy and then he ignored you for month and acted like nothing happened between you two was humiliating. you knew your friends wouldn’t, but surely if other students found out, they’d laugh at you.
yang probably laughed with his friends about it. you were just waiting, dreading to hear the rumours of how you’re a bad kisser and how no one should ever want your muggle-born, good-for-nothing ass. 
every time you walked past him and his friends, you’d walk faster and look everywhere but their direction. you imagined their snickers and smirks as they watched you run by like a pathetic loser.
the rumours never came however. 
no one ever looked at you weirdly, or laughed at you. you ended sixth year with a big sigh of relief, releasing a breath you didn't realise you'd been holding the whole year.
now, you found yourself standing next to the very boy who you had spent the end of your 5th year with, walking a big group of students towards hogsmeade.
you sigh as you think about your astronomy test on monday, which you’d rather spend the weekend studying for.
unfortunately, as the heads, it’s you and yang’s duty to chaperone the students on their trip to the village. 
you sigh and pull on your strap, hiking your heavy bag higher up your back. you think of the long day ahead, studying in the corner of one of the quieter cafés, freezing your toes off. it’s not preferable, but it’ll have to do.
yang watches you, eyeing your heavy bag of books.
“what the hell? don’t tell me you’re spending this trip studying.”
“alright, i won’t,” you roll your eyes at him as you two trudge behind the large crowd of students. it was 9 in the morning, and you were too tired to reply.
“wouldn’t you rather spend your time with your friends? you somehow have those,” he teased.
“well yeah,” you huff, a little irritated at his care-free attitude. “but not everyone can pass an astronomy test without needing to study like you. some of us actually have to work our butts off for good grades.”
yang stopped in his tracks, causing you to follow and look back at him questioningly.
to your surprise, he wore a serious expression, glaring forward and refusing to look at you. you must’ve struck a nerve.
“stop acting like you’re the only one in the world that has to fucking work hard,” he fumed. you’ve never seen him this mad, even in all your arguments throughout the years. 
“you’re always going on about how much you have to study this, how you need to work harder than me that - blah blah blah. 
“why do you always feel the need to undermine my work? always downplaying my accomplishments to ‘mere talent’. what about the tens of hundreds of hours i’ve poured into my own studies? the hours i’ve spent sat by a tutor since i was 6?”
surprised by his outburst in combination with your own irritation and jealousy, you couldn’t help but retort.
“are you serious right now? do you have to make everything about yourself?”
“oh because the world revolves around you? you are so fucking entitled!”
“me? entitled?” you laugh in disbelief. “you’re talking about how i undermine and downplay your work, when you’ve always been the one to yell out to the whole world how i’m a ‘stupid, pathetic muggleborn who’s lacking and can never fit in this world’!” students were beginning to notice your argument and were looking behind as they walked at you two now.
“so that’s what this is about? some shit i said two years ago?” he scoffed.
“some shit you threw at me for 5 years!” you throw your hands up in frustration.
“well maybe you’re proving me right with all your talk about just how much you need to study because you’ll 'never have it as easy as us'!” he yelled right back, mocking you. “you don’t know a thing about me.” 
you stared at him, panting heavily. everyone’s attention was now on you two, people watching instead of walking.
“kim y/n! yang jungwon!” you hear the booming voice of professor kim shout over the crowd. 
he stormed to you two, face red and veins popping out his neck.
“this behaviour is incredibly inappropriate of role model students! you two are supposed to be guiding the students towards the village, is that such a difficult task?” he scolded you and yang in exasperation.
“could you at least keep your feud behind closed doors? it’s incredibly selfish to ruin everyone’s day with your constant fights!”
you looked down ashamedly as your friends took this as their sign to finally drag you from your spot. jungwon’s friend, nishimura riki from 5th year copied their actions.
professor kim looked at the crowd which had now completely stopped to watch the show. 
“keep moving kids!” he sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.  
“park gunwook,” he called. the gryffindor jogged towards the teacher. “pham hanni.” the hufflepuff followed. “you two will take over the role of chaperoning the students, since our head students are clearly unsuitable for the job,” he instructed, throwing you a dirty look. 
the two 6th year prefects nodded and began to walk behind everyone, feeling a little awkward at being put on the spot. 
you glared at yang one more time, but was met with a different expression instead.
yang met your stare with concern written on his face, as his tall friend dragged him away. it confused you; just a moment ago, he’d been furious with you, and now he looked worried? what was he worried about? what’s with the switch up?
you couldn’t ponder on it any longer, what with your own friends shuffling you away from the crime scene.
the rest of the day was spent tucked away in a little corner of a small café you found, one people didn’t go to as much.
the girls had tried to convince you to join them on their fun, but let you go when you told them you had star charts to memorise for your upcoming test. they seemed hesitant, but after witnessing your recent fight with the head boy, they reluctantly allowed you to go off on your own with promises of saving you a butterbeer.
you busied yourself with your books, not wanting to think about the weird events this morning. from your first disagreement in a while, to yang’s mood swing - it was better to spend your thoughts on what was more important.
eventually, you woke up in the late afternoon, only realising then that you had fallen asleep. the rays of light from the sunset seeped through the window, waking you up with its blinding brightness. 
how long had you fallen asleep? you could have been revising in the time you dozed off. astronomy was your weakest subject, so you really needed that precious time.
you groan in frustration, sighing as you sit up to straighten your back. but something falls off your shoulders as you do. 
you look behind you and realise it was a jacket, which had been left on your shoulders by someone. but who?
bewildered, you pick up the jacket (which had an oddly familiar scent to it) and turn back to your table of books. but before you can return to your studies, something catches your eye.
there, on top of a pile of textbooks, lay a green sugarquill. 
had my friends stopped by while i slept?
it didn’t particularly make sense though, since you agreed to meet up with them later tonight when you headed back to the castle. 
you picked it up, then noticed the note it had been sitting on.
sorry, i shouldn’t have said any of that earlier.  found you sleeping, don’t beat yourself up. you can do this. i remember sugarquills help you focus, right? don’t worry, it’s not poisoned or anything… goodluck on monday.
your heart squeezed painfully. his short message spoke volumes.
yang jungwon wasn’t one to apologise, seeing as he either never felt bad, or never really did anything wrong (in the eyes of everyone else).
you felt guilty too, seeing as it was your fault as well. you made a mental note to apologise to him in person later.
secondly, this was the first time he ever acknowledged the time you spent together in 5th year. it surprised you, because at this point you wondered if he had forgotten about it, or if it was all some sick dream you had.
heat rushed to your face and you had to put considerable effort into keeping your composure and not kick your feet and screaming right then and there. somehow, he’d remembered such a small detail about the sweet he left for you.
maybe the whole 5th year incident affected him more than he let on. maybe there really was something that happened between you guys.
or maybe you’re just being hopeful again. 
one thing you’re sure about though, is that yang jungwon is most certainly crazy.
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“welcome back everyone!” you greeted.
it’s the first prefect meeting of the term, everyone who left for the winter break having just returned two days prior.
“we have quite a bit to discuss today,” you started, before looking at jungwon to continue.
“let’s start with the more interesting news first.” he paused, looking at everyone before going on.
“me and the head girl have been planning something this winter, and with the approval of the headmaster, we can finally reveal it to you: the spring ball.”
you watched proudly as the prefects began whispering amongst themselves excitedly. you were so hyped up to be able to plan and make the event come to life.
“we wanted to give the students something more exciting to look forward to. you know- before OWLs and NEWTs completely take over our lives,” you joke, pulling chuckles out of everyone in the room.
“the idea is a formal, floral-themed event that’ll take place in the great hall. it’s only for 5th years and up, but younger years may attend if invited as a date.”
“since you guys are prefects, we’re asking for your help setting up the event. let’s talk ideas for decoration,” you say, pulling out your tablet to take notes.
as you wrote down the prefects’ thoughts and input, you were already drafting a schedule in your mind for preparations. that was until, you felt someone lean over your shoulder.
forcing yourself to keep writing, you tried to ignore the way your shoulder brushed against yang’s chest. one hand holding onto the backrest of your chair whilst the other lay on the table, next to your arm as you wrote on autopilot, your mind circuiting at the proximity. straightening your back in an attempt to compose yourself, you only push yourself against the boy more.
you were sure your face was as red as a tomato. your heart was beating so hard you were scared jungwon could hear it.
judging by the way he huffed in amusement, he probably realised the effect he had on you. 
“focus, kim,” he whispered so only you could hear, leaning lower to your level. you could imagine the smirk on his face.
“i am,” you tried to say with as much nonchalance as you could.
honestly, the moment was really reminding you of all those times he’d helped in the library. deja vu was really hitting you hard right now.
the rest of the meeting went smoothly - at least, as smooth as it could be with yang constantly flustering you as he subtly kept grazing your skin. 
now that you think about it, jungwon’s been acting strange lately. more… bold? that’s the best way you could explain it.
you don’t know how it happened, but ever since the hogsmeade trip, you two got closer. after you apologised to him, the incident in question was never spoken of again, never referred to. but it’s clear something shifted in your relationship with the head boy.
gradually, he began to fill up your everyday life, seeing him more often in the day than you used to.
in the mornings, you’d bump into each other in the common room after getting ready, and go down to the great hall for breakfast together. or, if one of you seemed to be running late after breakfast, you’d make sure to save some food and leave it in the common room for the other.
in the day, you two shared free periods, and so spent it lounging in the common room, simply doing work at the coffee table or reading a book on the couch. music would play in the background as you two sat in comfortable silence, basking in each other’s company.
in the evenings, you might come back from a late class to find him napping on the couch. so you’d shake him awake with a “jungwon, let’s go get dinner.”
you could be studying in the library corner of your shared living space, and he’d always remind you to eat. even when it was past any meal time, he’d drag you off the chair for a trip to the kitchens, where he’d get a house elf to make you two a snack. he often asked for eclairs, noticing it was your favourite.
but yang jungwon didn’t just take up your daily activities, he was always on your mind too.
thoughts of how he wouldn’t like the cold dim lights of the slytherin common room, or seeing students that he’s told you he isn’t particularly fond of floated in your mind when you visited your friends.
you even found yourself comparing him to characters in whatever series you absorbed yourself in. you seriously couldn’t stop thinking about him.
the fights stopped completely, but you two continued your flirting friendly banter all the time.
once, you managed to find time in your busy schedule to sit down and watch barbie movies. jungwon (when did you even start calling him that?) had walked in to the common room to find his bag which he had left there, only to see you huddled up in a blanket while watching barbie as the island princess magically projected onto the wall.
“what’s this?” he’d asked.
“muggle movies from my childhood. this girl here grew up on the island when one day, she was found by a prince who was intrigued by her, and brought her back to the city, where she finally learns who she really is,” you explained while keeping your eyes trained on the projection.
“and who is she really?”
“why don’t you sit down and watch, kitty?” you’d always called him by that nickname during your petty fights, since his face reminded you of a cute cat. now though, it became more of an endearing nickname for the boy.
“i have to write 10 inches on the use of the lumos solem spell by tuesday.”
“that’s 5 days away! come on, don’t you wanna know? it’s really good, i promise. we can watch from the start, and i’ll help you with that charms essay, since professor song assigned it to us to, and i already got started on it,” you asked, twisting to face him with the best pleading look you could muster.
“fine, but only because you begged," he relented with a playful smile.
so that’s how you ended up binging barbie movies into the wee hours of the morning, sharing a blanket with your proclaimed enemy on the sofa.
“you honestly look more like serafina,” you tease him.
“what? but she’s a girl! wouldn’t wolfie be a better fit?”
“but serafina has more cat-like eyes! you guys have similar eyes.”
“are you serious right now? they’re both cats!” he gestures to the movie, paused at the last scene.
“but you really look like her!” you insist, using both hands to point at each corner of his eyes, shifting closer to him. “they’re upturned.”
“didn’t realise you knew that about me, babe.” he wrapped his own hands around your wrists, as they hovered above his face. “if i’m serafina, you must be wolfie.”
“why? because we’re partners in crime?” you snorted at his suggestion. “they get married at the end and have a bunch of little kitties too. you want that?”
“if that’s what you’d like,” he shrugged, his lips pulling into a downwards smile.
you stared at him incredulously, heartbeat suddenly pounding as you looked into the growing smug look on his face. his eyes that managed to shine even in the dark never failed to root you on the spot, unable to look away.
what were you feeling? you've looked at jungwon so many times over the past 5 years, but the boy's gaze never made you feel like this way before. like you were floating on air; like you could do anything with him by your side, looking at you like that.
in fact, thinking back to all your years of knowing him, it's funny how much things have changed in the past several months.
you actually giggle a bit, sitting back, further from his warmth. you immediately miss the soft touch of his fingers around your wrists.
"what are you laughing about?" he asks, but he's laughing too.
"you. me; us."
"are we comedians now or something?"
"no, but we're definitely clowns of the circus." jungwon grinned at your statement, an amused huff escaping his lips.
"penny for your thoughts?"
"i was just thinking... how did we go from having wars in the middle of DADA in 3rd year, to watching muggle barbie movies at 2am on a saturday?" you think out loud.
"when you put it like that... we do sound like the comedy act of a show," he admits, scratching the back of his neck.
"at least i do."
"what do you mean?" you ask, shifting your position on the couch to sit up. you move your cold feet so they rest between jungwon's ankles, soaking in their warmth.
"our little feud - you know, the fights, the hexes, all that. it was all because of me."
"what? no it wasn't - i instigated a lot of them too," you say, trying to reassure him. was he feeling guilty and blaming himself?
"but, it was! honestly, if it wasn't for my stupid shallow thinking, we might've been friends way earlier." you looked at him patiently, nodding for him to continue.
"i used to think that muggle-borns were stupid and would fall behind in everything - school, work, just because you had no idea of how our world worked. honestly, i pitied and felt sorry for you guys, because i thought you could never be on our level. i know now how ignorant i was, obviously," he scoffed at himself.
"so when i met you, i thought you were an idiot. you are, don't get me wrong-" he teased you, causing you to roll your eyes, although smiling lightly. "but even though you're muggle-born, you always managed to do better than me.
"you were constantly the best student in our year- no, our school. you were faster at understanding concepts than i was, immediately getting things right on the first try. hell, even when i would go flying on the pitch to relieve my stress and then got recruited into the ravenclaw team in third year, i finally thought i was better than you at something. and then you joined your team in 4th, and was called the 'ace' of slytherin. what a blow all of that to was to my ego."
"i joined the team to annoy you," you shyly admit. "but why did you even think that in the first place?" you asked, not angry. you wanted to hear him out and finally get answers to questions you've asked yourself for so many years. you wanted to understand, and know the boy in front of you.
"well, you know that my father's company is successful. so growing up, i was given the best. my parents hired the best tutors for me, so i'd be ahead of everyone else when i started hogwarts. my teachers said i was their best student, my parents showed me off to their friends as their 'pride and joy' or something dumb like that. other parents compared their kids to me, i was that kid.
"i knew i was privileged though - that i had money and could afford to have this good education. so i made the best of it and constantly told myself that others would be lucky to have my life, so i wanted to prove i was worthy of it by working hard and pushing myself all my life.
"but with that, i developed the mindset that people who don't have money like i do can't have as much knowledge as me since they don't have access to it - and that included muggle-borns. you had zero knowledge of this world, which works incredibly different to yours. we have different moral compasses; notions of common sense; understanding of how things worked.
"so imagine how surprised i was to find that you were doing better than me in school. me, who had sat beside a tutor since i was 6, who was learning OWL content at 12. all this only for a girl who didn't even know magic existed until a month before to top me in school.
"that's why i was always angry; i was angry with my tutors for not teaching me better; at you for being better. but most especially at myself. for deluding myself into thinking that way." you two were silent for a moment.
"what changed?" you asked.
jungwon breathed in, preparing himself.
"5th year. i was finally learning to respect you, so when i walked into the library that was full of students, you seemed like the best option to sit next to."
"really? still hadn't gotten over that 'i'm better than everyone blah blah blah' attitude?" you asked, smugly tilting your head to the side.
"shush," he hid his face. "but... i got to learn how hard you really worked back then. i used to think you just had some gift for learning. but watching you with your head down for hours, i felt like i was discrediting all that with something like 'innate talent'.
"i went back home that summer confused and having a mid-life crisis at 16. my dad talked to me though, knocked some sense into me.
"he said that just because muggles don't know magic, doesn't mean they can't do anything. i mean, the whole idea of smart devices that our company is literally known for was taken from muggles! without you guys, we wouldn't have that in our world either. you created it, we just used magic to expand it.
"i was pretty shaken up after that, and was in a daze when 6th year started. it took me a while to sort my thoughts out and gather myself."
it was silent for a while, now nearing 3am.
jungwon just spilled out his guts to you, in the dim atmosphere of your common room. now you were the one collecting your thoughts.
"i'm sorry too."
"what? you never did anyth-"
"but i basically did the same thing as you. you studied for years and years, and i just always thought you were also naturally smart; that you never needed to study like i did because you already knew it all."
silence enveloped the two of you once again.
"...so i guess we're more similar than we thought, huh?" he smiled softly at you. you felt like you were floating again.
"i guess so."
jungwon unfolded his legs and opened his arms out as a gesture, which you gladly accepted and fell into his embrace.
"so, are we good now?" you asked.
"hmm, i still feel like you owe me something for all those years of endless anger and feeling like shit."
"you mean for enlightening you that we stupid muggles aren't so stupid?" you asked, face still buried in his chest, your voice muffled against his sweatshirt. "shouldn't you owe me? for teaching you a lesson?"
"but i want something," he pouted, pulling on your wrist.
"what is it? as long as its affordable."
"is going to the spring ball with me affordable?"
you turn your head to look up at him, who's looking down at you with shy eyes, waiting for your answer.
"i don't know... how much does it cost?" you play along. you already know your answer anyway.
"it'll cost you about..." he pulled out the calculator app on his phone, pretending to add up a total. "one kiss."
you laughed at him, finally pulling away from his arms.
"was that at the end of 5th year not enough?"
"no," he pouted, eyebrows knitted. so cute, you thought.
"alright then, but is it okay if i pay you that hefty price later at the ball?" jungwon sighed dramatically, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.
"i guess... but the price might increase to 10."
"that's okay, i'll give you as many as you want, as long as the first one is special."
"i didn't know you were sentimental like that," he smirked at you, kissing your cheek. you shrugged nonchalantly, smiling at him.
"i didn't know you were so needy for kisses like that."
"touché," he laughed, dragging you in for another hug, cuddling you until you both fell asleep in each other's arms.
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since that night, you and jungwon gradually learned to be comfortable each other. and with the ball preparations, there was lots of opportunities to do so.
you realised that - without the hostility between you two, it was much easier to find compromises when you disagreed on something. jungwon did things differently from you, but listened to your thoughts and offered his too.
as the weeks went on, you found yourself looking forward to meetings with him, missing his presence when he wasn’t with you.
something in the way he’d nudge you lightly when you were worried about something, wrap his arm around you and squeeze your shoulder, or simply smile at you brightly with those cat-like eyes of his - they were all comforting.
the change in atmosphere didn’t go unnoticed by your friends either.
"what was that??" rei interrogated you when jungwon pulled you aside for the nth time this week.
"oh, he just wanted to talk about putting up decor later," you answer nonchalantly, taking a bite out of your toast.
"he has the same conversation with you practically every day," minji rolled her eyes.
"yeah, and i'm more surprised that you don't come ranting to us about every interaction you two have," hiyyih agrees, eyeing you suspiciously.
"well, i just grew up and matured," you try to defend yourself.
"if growing up and maturing means developing a crush, then yeah. you sure did." rei pauses before continuing. "is there something you aren't telling us?"
technically, yes. you weren't telling them about the development between you and jungwon - at least not yet. but you didn't exactly have a crush on the boy, in the sense that it was a one-sided thing and you were too shy to confess. but you didn't really want to tell them what was going on between you two, because you didn't know yourself.
were you and jungwon friends(-ish)? yes. but were you dating? no, definitely not. there's no doubt though that your strange, blurry, undefined relationship will develop soon enough, and you'd rather wait until everything's clear before telling your friends.
"she's not saying anything - something is definitely up!" hiyyih gasped excitedly, causing rei and minji to giggle, and you to shake your head.
you had noticed that jungwon seemed to always find reasons to talk to you, even if it's little things you've already discussed before, or silly simple questions like 'how's your day going?' or 'what barbie movie are we watching tonight?'
yeah, you two often found yourselves watching barbie movies late into a friday night.
you also ended up cuddling on the couch almost every evening after a long day of duties, particularly on patrol nights. after your rounds, you two would head back up to the head dormitories, where you'd flop onto the couch, and he'd jump onto you soon after.
the others would go crazy if they ever found out, you laugh to yourself.
the next day would be the night of the ball, so you were pretty wrapped up in helping out throughout the day.
"everything's set up," haerin, a 5th year gryffindor prefect told you.
"it looks really good," you tell her, looking at the great hall. it looked great now, and you were excited for how it would turn out in the dark of the night later.
"did you manage to complete the spell?" she asked curiously.
"i did, but i'm only 89.7% sure it'll work," you say, biting your lip. you hated not being completely sure about something, like an answer, or in this case - a self-made spell.
you turn when you hear a laugh behind you.
"i like how you have a specific percentage even when it comes to feelings," jungwon says through a grin. "your brain works weirdly"
"whatever, kitty," you roll your eyes light heartedly at him.
facing the great hall again, you take a deep breath as you cast the spell on the great hall, chanting the incantation as you wave your wand.
in a moment, the hall was filled with falling petals of different colours, though they didn't litter the ground messily, simply disappearing when they reached the ground. vines reached out from between the tiled floor, wrapping around table legs and growing bright vibrant flowers of their own. small orbs of light flickered throughout the ceiling, like fairies illuminating the scene.
"wow, it looks amazing, y/n!" one of the professors helping around praised.
"it really does," jungwon says, snaking his arm around your waist, his hand clinging onto your side snuggly.
"thank you," you mumble, as you both look up at the pretty scene in front of you.
soon, night falls and you're running down the staircase with your friends, holding up the ends of your dress to avoid stepping on it.
"careful y/n! or you might trip!" you hear hiyyih call out from behind you.
"she's just excited to see her prince charming," minji laughs, but the three of them are also running, holding up their own dresses.
the doors of the great hall open, revealing the breathtakingly decorated room, some guests already having arrived at the scene.
"wow, this is amazing..." rei gasped, enchanted by the way coloured lights perfectly illuminate the hanging wisteria flowers, and butterflies fluttering throughout the room.
"you seriously outdid yourself. how did you even do this?" hiyyih asked.
"only y/n could make a spell as complicated as this," jungwon's voice says, announcing his presence. "you look good, by the way," he adds when you look at him.
a quick one-over of his look tonight does not do him justice. so you find yourself staring unashamedly at his figure.
the way his waistcoat hugs his figure emphasises his broad shoulders, something you didn't even realise you found attractive until you saw it on him. a red tie lazily tucked into the waistcoat plus the rolled-up sleeves - it all made your mind go haywire.
"you would know, having been subjected to all the spells she's made over the years," hiyyih laughs at the memory.
"didn't know you spent so much time thinking about me, kim," he goaded.
"oh trust me, she def-" you cut rei off by covering her mouth with your gloved hand.
"thanks, jungwon," you say quickly, giving him a smile and pushing your friends away.
"he was flirting with you!" rei loudly whispers into your ear.
"and what do you want me to do about it!" you say, making sure your friends couldn't see the deep blush on your face.
"flirt back!" minji huffs out exasperatedly. "i'm sick and tired of whatever has been going on between you two for years!"
"yes, please just end it tonight! whether you get together or never talk about it again," rei rolls her eyes.
"what?" you stop, looking at them.
"rei's right, although i'd prefer for you to finally get together."
"wait wait wait, what do you mean?"
"are you being for real right now? you two have clearly had a thing for each other this whole time!" rei says like it was obvious. "we've known it for years."
"go get your man!" hiyyih sighs, turning you by your shoulders and pushing you away this time.
you try not to dwell on the thought of your friends betting on your relationship with jungwon, and pretend you never heard a word come out of their mouths.
soon, the headmaster calls for everyone's attention.
"welcome students!" his voice echoes throughout the hall, the music quietening for his speech. "first and foremost, i want to thank this year's head girl and boy for organising such an event for us. give it up for kim y/n and yang jungwon!" he shouts, a spot light highlighting your two figures in the room. you quickly turn to look at jungwon, who looks back at you with a smile, as everyone claps loudly, some even whistling supportively.
"and with that, may the spring ball begin - with the spring dance, kicking off with the head boy and girl leading the first dance," professor si-hyuk ends his speech.
everyone cheers and makes way for you two on the dance floor, which magically raises up in the middle of the hall.
music begins to play as you face the head boy, who inches closer to you every second.
time slows as he places his hand on your hips, guiding your hand to his shoulders. all other noise is drowned out by the sound of your heart, pounding so hard it might come out your chest. you don't see anyone but yang jungwon.
and he's looking at you like he sees no one else but you either.
it's crazy, how you're here, dancing, in the arms of the person who you've hated since 1st year - who motivated you to work hard during all these years.
you think back to your first meeting with him.
you could imagine the sparkles in your eyes as you stare at everything in awe, still in disbelief.
last month, a weirdly-dressed person knocked at your front door, and told your parents that you were a witch.
of course, you hadn't believed her at first, until she pointed her wand at a decorative figurine and made it float upside down. you and your family had been absolutely floored and confused. how could something like that even happen?
last month, the weirdly-dressed lady described to you a world that sounded fictional, of magic and creatures you could never even imagine. she explained why you had all these weird happenings growing up, things that were simply unexplainable.
your world was turned upside down in a few moments, and now you were here, on a train, to a magical school.
of course, you were incredibly sad to be away from your family for the first time in your life, but you were assured that you still had many ways to connect with them. and so, you set off into a new world completely alone, but with a lot of excitement.
you walked around the compartments as the train set off, peering and saying hi to other students.
until, you bumped into a boy who had the prettiest eyes you've ever seen, and the cutest little dimple that had 11-year old you's heart melting.
"be careful and look where you're going," he says nonchalantly.
"i'm so sorry! i was just so excited - i mean, aren't you? could you ever believe magic exists? i won't until i try it for myself!" you ramble enthusiastically.
you trail off when you see him looking at you with a mix of pity and boredom.
"oh, so you're a muggle-born, huh?"
"what do you mean?" you ask confusedly.
"well, whatever you think, i'm not like you. i already know what you just learned, and i already know what you still have to learn," he shrugs, picking at his nails like he ha better things to do than talk to you. "sorry, i think you're going to struggle a little bit here," he simply says, and leaves you alone in the middle of the train corridor.
what the hell? you ask yourself.
snobby rich kids isn't something you thought you'd experience in the wizarding world, but i guess somethings are just universal, huh?
something about the way he looked at you; talked to you like you were below him though - it bugged you.
"i'm gonna struggle?" you ask yourself in disbelief. absolutely not, you didn't want him to be right. you'll make sure of it.
and so, you ran back to your own compartment and pulled out your books, making a resolution to study everything and make sure you knew all the content. you wanted to show whoever that kid is that he's wrong, that you're better than him.
and so, the rest of the long ride and even your first night was spent catching up on what you missed out on, making sure you were prepared for whatever this extraordinary world would throw at you.
and most especially, preparing for whatever trouble the boy, who's name you learned was yang jungwon would give you.
gradually, more people join the dance, but you're so entranced by the boy in your arms, you don't notice how he's whisked you away from the main dance floor.
now towards the side of the room, away from all attention, jungwon looks down at you with all the love in his eyes.
it's overwhelming, you can't escape your emotions anymore. you like jungwon, possibly even more. you feel like all these feelings are about to burst out of you, and jungwon's arms are the only thing keeping you together.
"y/n, i think you still owe me something," he whispered, his face dangerously close to yours.
"and what would that be?" you naturally retort, having developed the instinct to talk back when it came to him.
"don't play with me, please let me kiss you."
"i don't think so." you pause teasingly, trying not to giggle at his pout, his dimple coming out. "let me kiss you," you say, finally leaning in, sealing your lips.
it felt just like the one back in 5th year, but better. jungwon held you impossibly closer by the waist, as if fearing you would run away. but you won't, and you never will. because in his arms, you never felt as safe and comfortable in your own skin as you did then.
you finally part for air, but jungwon's eyes never strayed from your face.
"i lied earlier by the way, when i said you looked good." you raise your eyebrows at him questioningly, before he smiles cheekily at you. "you look like the stars that put me to sleep every night."
"i didn't know you were poetic like that," you laughed lightly, leaning your forehead on his chest. "you look like my boyfriend."
"that's because i am," he says pulling you in for another kiss.
you don't think you'll ever get tired of kissing him. it's an unforgettable moment, and an unforgettable night.
you never knew you were missing something until you met jungwon, and you think you can finally breathe with him next to you (and your friends passing riki 20 galleons each two tables away). 
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; author's corner! hii this was inspired by all the jily fics i've read over the years (whew i didn't even realise how long i've been reading fanfiction...) LMAO anyways may irls never find out this acc belongs to me bc my realistic self barfed at what i just wrote but my delulu self was kicking and giggling while editing but i hope you enjoyed!
; taglist @wonuslust @enhacatalog @makiswrld @forjungwons @yebin14 @lovelovelovebts @amanda-archives @beomgyusonlywife @bbinwrld@em-asian @enhamysunshines @ahnneyong @jungwonscafe bold couldn't be tagged!
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k2ntoss · 4 months
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DIRTY LITTLE SECRET
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tw ⭒ swearing, angst, couple argument, mean jason todd (he's kind of a jerk with his words but uhhhh, he's cute), jason todd x fem!reader and okayyyyyy that's everything i think and some fluff sandwiched with more angst at the end bc i can't leave this just like that
a/n ⭒ song based fanfics are my weakness, i'm so sorry i just can't stop listening to certain songs just to write something related - the all-merican rejects, dirty little secret here okayyyy
i stopped counting words, sorry lmao
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jason has been a nice boyfriend, so long he has never raised his voice or got angry when there was a little problem, he has taken you out on a few nice dates but there was something off.
you knew basically nothing about his surroundings, not his family nor his friends, probably seen once any of his close class mates and before you could go to say hi he was next to you, it was almost as if he didn't wanted you near them but you tried to push it away. for over three months.
you've had enough of pretty much all of that situation, dating jason for almost a year, going on one or two dates every two months and just getting texts from him, probably a short movie night if he had any time for you and it was making you feel so little and less for him, what was the problem with taking you with his family? or asking you to hang out with his friends? because he made some time to spend a few hours with them, drink something and have fun but there wasn't place for you with them, with him.
"jay... do you think we can go to the movies this weekend?" you ask him, sitting on one of the stools you had around your living room when he was spending some of his spare time with you "there is this new movie..." you trail off, trying to get his attention.
"don't think we can do that, doll, already made plans" he looks at your for a couple of seconds with a small frown and you're thinking that maybe you are the problem, maybe you're not enough for jason and he knows it, he's nice with you and the way he looks at you, how he brushes your hair when he walks next to you before sitting on your couch.
"you going out with your friends?" you ask softly, receiving a nod and a soft hum from him "maybe i could join you, i don't know your friends..." your voice is still low, calm but there's a clear intention on it and as soon as you present the idea jason scoffs.
there something in the way he does it that makes you feel like a spark ignited inside of your chest, between a bolt of anger and a sharp pain, what was that supposed to mean?
"you don't wanna know them, trust me, princess" jason trails off, almost lying on your couch as he looked at his phone "not your kind of people..." he whispers and it makes you near explode.
"what is that supposed to mean, jason?" there's an edge to your voice that makes him sit straight, he looks at you and places his hands on his lap "it means exactly what i said, my friends are not your kind of people, why?" he shrugs, as if it wasn't that much of a big deal.
"and what is my kind of people exactly? not so interesting? not as good as you?" you start, the light in your eyes replaced by something else and jason noticed it "is your family also like that? not the kind of people i am around?"
"exactly that" he says, simply and blunt, he looks at you unamused as he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back "not your kind of people either, now stop the tantrum, okay?" and for a second you are speechless because he has never said something like that.
"why can't i meet your family? it's been almost a year, do they at least know you are dating someone?" you ask, not letting go of it just like that makes him sigh in frustration.
"why would they have to know? i don't see your point, y/n." and as soon as the pet names stop you know that he's not happy talking about this "i haven't told anyone, okay? and i don't plan on doing it, i have my reasons."
"maybe they have to know because i'm your damn girlfriend" your town grows a bit louder, not longer sitting on the stool you walk until you're in front of jason "maybe they have to know because what the hell have you've been doing the days you spend here instead of with them?" the way jason looks at you isn't helping, his eyes are fixed on the ceiling and his lips are pressed on a fine line.
"i don't want to tell them, okay? i can't see a damn issue besides you wanting everyone to know i have a girlfriend and that's not a big deal" he trails off, his hand moving in a motion that made your mood go worse.
"it is a fucking big deal, jason!" when you snap at him he turns to look at you, eyebrows raised in surprise bit it quickly changes to a expression of pure tiredness "we barely have a date every full moon, you text me whenever you remember i exist and your friends don't even know i'm your girlfriend" you number with your fingers, your voice shaky because your emotions taking over were too much.
"i do what i can, i don't have that much free days to waste my time here!" he snaps back and his words hit hard but that's just the start "i still can't get why you have to make a fuzz out of it, it's enough with both of us knowing we're dating"
"wasting your time, fine" you mutter before turning around, back facing him as you walk to your room and you can make the sound of his steps following you "it's so fucking funny because no one knows i'm your girlfriend so you get a lot of girls flirting with you and i have to deal with it but as soon as any of my friends gets too touchy with me at the campus you're calling me" and it's true, jason can't stand seeing other people so close to you and so freely because that's something he can't do and he does had his reasons.
"are you really gonna make a problem out of this?" he asks, it's like he isn't able to wrap his mind around of it, how much you wanted everyone to know that someone like him laid his eyes on you, that he liked you from all of the girls it was you "you're the only one that needs to know"
"but at least give me a goddamn reason for me to be a stupid secret, jason" you are almost crying, voice struggled and eyes burning from how much you wish things were at least a little different "is it so bad it's me who you're dating? am i not enough?" your words hurt, not just you but also him because he would love to show you off but his life won't allow it.
he won't risk you to get too deep into his shit, it's enough you deal with his presence and his absence too.
"that's not a game you would like to play, you'll find out shit you don't wanna know" he warns you, jason's voice is now stern and his eyes are no longer soft, he stands towering over you as he seems to be holding back his tongue "i can't tell anyone and you don't even try because that would be so dumb of you" he sounds absolutely mad and he is, but with himself.
jason hates this, he knows that maybe he's breaking your heart and he despises his whole being for that. he loves you and that's why he can't drag you into his world, all the pain and worry it would bring to you would be a burden you don't deserve when you're the only one who brings something nice into his days.
"you're still not giving me one single reason, i don't even know if you're ashamed or what the hell is going on" your voice breaks and he sees the tears pooling on your lashes, he wants to hold you and tell you how much he loves you but maybe he has to break you a little to keep you safe.
"i don't fucking want them to know about you, that's all! is it so hard to wrap your head around it? do i need to spell it out for you like a fucking child?" he's yelling in a way that draws your tears away, wet trails on your cheeks "it's stupid, you know? i'm wasting my fucking time here when i could be doing something else"
you see him passing his hands through his hair, desperate and frustrated "i thought this would be different but you had to decide to get on my nerves and be a pain in the ass, is this what you expect me to take with my family? a brat like you that can't take a no for an answer?"
he is cursing his name in his head, he sees how your heart shatters into pieces and the way your hands fall flat on your sides, tears falling silently through your cheeks.
"do i need to get you a damn banner to announce it? take you out so you can scream it out loud? you've got to be joking" he scoffs, jason outs a show for you. a show of breaking your heart, making you feel so stupid for expecting to be important enough for him.
"get out" your words tremble and he stops to look at you, there's a brief glimpse of regret on his eyes but it vanishes in a second. "i don't want you here, get out of my place" you point every word, crying but still angry at him. the sharp pain in your chest is making it hard to breath and it shows on the gasps you let out as he walks out of the room.
"i hope that later tonight you regret everything you've said" he hears you, his chest aching because he wants so bad to erase each word he said.
"i regret a lot of things, y/n" he says harshly, looking at you intently before he leaves. just like that you're left alone in your apartment, crying and letting yourself fall onto the floor.
night falls like that, rain pouring heavily and it muffles your sobs while you lie on your couch, hugging a pillow and hiding your face because you've been crying without rest since jason left. the headache you feel is killing you but there's no will to get up to take a pill.
on the other hand, jason drives around the city. he has been around your block a few times wondering if he should go back and hold you but he shrugs and leaves, you said you didn't wanted him there so it would have done things worse. jason also looks at his phone, thinking about calling or texting you but he decides is better if he doesn't.
until he stops thinking or at least he thinks he did, he stands outside your door with his copy of the keys on his hand and it's too late when he snaps back into reality because he's already on the doorway. it's almost midnight and the lights are all off, not even the tv is on but he listens clearly to your soft sobs and the sounds of you shifting on your place.
"i told you i didn't wanted you here" you croack, voice hoarse and raspy from how much you've been crying your lungs out. his heart breaks when he turns on the lights and sees your red eyes, puffy and still teary.
"i know... but i couldn't leave you like that" there was the jason todd you knew, his voice was soft and there was a tenderness to his eyes that always made you sigh "i said a lot of shit today and you have no idea how much i hate myself for it" he starts before walking towards you.
he shakes his head when you try to sit on the couch, making you stay still as he lets his body fall sit on the floor and reaches a hand to brush a few strands of messy hair out of your face, he sighs when you pull away refusing his touch.
"i don't wanna know, jason" he wants to kiss your forehead when you snuggle yourself a little more against the pillow but he knows it's not the right moment for it. not when he was losing you.
"but i need to tell you... there are a lot of things about me that you don't know and you are different from my family and friends, baby" his hand finds a way to ylur cheek, cupping it gently as he wipes away a few tears "and that's not bad because you're better than any of them, you're better than me anf right now i'm so damn sure i don't really deserve someone like you" his words are full of meaning, that you can feel it because jason has clear eyes for you, green pretty eyes that had always allowed you to stare into his soul to let you understand his feelings.
"i could never be ashamed to show you off but you have to understand i'm not a good person and letting anyone know how much you mean to me... i can't risk losing the only good thing i have" and it makes you feel weird, part of your brain tells you to kick him out because his words are not real.
but your heart is beating fast, the way jason looks at you and his voice feeling like a warm embrace that keeps you safe from the hard world, there's no pain when he's next to you "i don't know what you're talking about, jason, this just doesn't feel right"
"i've let you into my life, everything i am is an open book for you because i trust you" trying to calm down your words sound a bit more steady, not so broken when you look up at jason "because i love you and i want to share with you everything that i am, is it that i'm asking for too much?"
"that's not– you're not asking for too much, princess... you deserve the world laid at your feet but it's hard for me to let you into a world that you probably won't like" he says, looking away from you as if he felt shame about who he was "what if i let you in and you can't love who i really am?" his eyes bore into yours again, you can see the pain and fear on them.
jason can't stand thinking about losing another loved one because of his life.
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princessbrunette · 3 months
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dealer!jj blowing the smoke into your mouth bc you don’t wanna mess up your lipgloss by putting your lips on the blunt :(
♡₊˚ 🍧✧˚.🫧⋆₊⊹♡
“jj, i want to but i cant! i’m going to this party and if i smoke now my lipgloss is just gonna end up all over the joint.” you complain, tucking your feet under you on his couch as he rolls infront of you.
you’d shown up to his little shack on a friday night looking good as fuck, and whilst you usually spent the weekends showing up to his for weed and ending up face down ass up on his pull out— you were gonna be off at a random mutual friends house, getting crossfaded and having fun without him. he knows you weren’t technically his girlfriend, but he got that gross spike of jealousy in his chest, scratching at the bottom of his throat. he coughs quietly, trying to clear it.
“you always smoke with me, it’s literally tradition. you wanna break tradition? get seven years of bad luck because you’re messin’ with forces beyond your comprehension, man? nah, big mistake bucko.”
“what are you talking about?” you giggle, arm brushing his as you nudge him lightly, making him quietly tsk when you jog his handiwork. “one time won’t hurt.”
he finishes rolling and turns to you, going to hand it to you before pulling it away out of your reach. “ah, ah.” he warns, wiggling his fingers on the neatly rolled doobie. “how about, you let me shotgun this straight into your mouth. no contact, n’ your makeup stays perfect n’pretty.” he offers and you sigh, rolling your eyes making those pretty black lashes flutter up by your eyebrows.
“fine, only ‘cos i like smoking with you so much.” you grin kindly making him return the expression, patting his shorts down for a lighter.
“ain’t that sweet.” it comes out muffled as he holds the joint between his teeth, focusing on striking a flame before lighting it. he beckons you closer with his hands and you budge up excitedly, letting him take a few hits first. “whew, that’s that good shit.” he resists a cough before turning to you, eyes excited. “you ready, hot stuff?”
“you bet.” you giggle softly, watching him inhale before taking a gentle hand to your jaw and prying it open, closing in on you and blowing it into your mouth. you breathe it in, pulling back to hold it — his method surprisingly effective, before blowing it out.
“huh? i’m a genius.” he nods with a grin.
“another.” you rasp, starting to realise you enjoy the close proximity more than the actual task at hand. your tolerance was fairly low, being kind of new to smoking and you already started to feel the effects sink in after a few hits from jj’s mouth. you demand more from him, giggling with hazy eyes and his technique gets a little sloppier, very slightly grazing your bottom lip as he blows in the smoke. “careful.” you whisper once you pull away to exhale.
“my bad.” he responds, but from the look on his face he didn’t feel guilty at all. the next toke, he pulls you in with a smirk, dumps the smoke into your mouth before finally losing his composure, suddenly smashing his mouth to yours, instantly and surely smearing your gloss all over you.
you kiss back, a surprised whimper leaving you as you let him press his smokey warm tongue against yours, his arm extended to keep the joint from accidentally burning you. you remember why you had been shot gunning in the first place and push him back suddenly by the shoulders, a moderately mad pout wearing your features.
“sorry ‘bout that.”
“jj!” you scold and he beams, briefly turning to put the joint out, dropping it into the ashtray before turning back to you.
“dont make that face at me, mama. c’mere, lemme make it up to you.” it comes out in a low southern drawl, mouth coming to press against yours once more. you supposed you could be a little late to the party.
♡₊˚ 🍧✧˚.🫧⋆₊⊹♡
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haespoir · 11 months
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never not: ldh.
⨯ pairing: ex!haechan x reader
⨯ word count: 2.7k 
⨯ summary: you broke up with haechan for your own selfish reasons. it's been nearly two years. surely he's moved on, right?
⨯ warnings: alcohol, ex/enemies to lovers maybe? open ending? angst!!
⨯ playlist: never not, lauv / phases, prettymuch / 2soon, keshi  
⨯ extra content: part two
⨯ a/n: ty @m-arkmywords for giving me this idea and dealing with my incurable haechan brainrot these past few days <3333 feedback is always greatly appreciated 🩵
. . .
You stare at the mirror in your room blankly. It’s mocking you. Whatever you were planning to do is a bad idea. And maybe it was, but it had been months since you had gone out to a party thrown by your friends. Mainly because they were also his friends, and while they assured you that you were always welcome, you knew that Haechan did not share those same sentiments. His voice from the numerous voicemails he left you echo in your mind. 
“Are you serious? You said that you’d love me forever; you think it’s that easy to let you go?” 
“Are you seriously just giving up on us like this? I gave you everything. Every last piece of me.” 
“I know it’s over, yet I don’t want to let you go. You’re my gravity. I’m always drawn to you.” 
“Fine, I’ll leave you alone. Don’t come crawling back to me.”
 
You had chalked it down to young love; the two of you had spent the last few years of high school together, and that continued when you went to college. But something snapped your 2nd  year and you couldn’t do it anymore. It was scary, growing up and settling down. Too scary. So even if it was a cowardly move, you left him. Of course, Haechan didn’t take it easily. You didn’t expect him to. 
It’s not like it was easy for you either. Up until that year, your life revolved around Haechan. In a way that wasn’t healthy. You had spent every waking moment thinking of him. He would get over it; that’s just the type of person he was. He never dwelled on anything for too long, and he never let it get him down. 
Unfortunately, you were terribly wrong; Haechan never got over it. Maybe on the outside, but if he was anything, he was a spiteful and prideful person. So he kept a lot of pent-up anger in that little body of his. The first time you had seen him after the breakup was terribly awkward, you didn’t know what to say or how to act. And Haechan was well… pissed. Rightfully so, but you had sworn to avoid any function that he would be at after that. 
And you had done a good job of that for the past few months. You had made new friends that weren’t his; you went to parties that he wasn’t at. You lived your life separately from his, and if you had to be honest, this was what you needed. Even if you loved Haechan with every last fiber of your being, you needed time and space from him to become your own person. 
Every time you had brought this idea up to him, it ended up in a fight. You don’t know who would start yelling first, who would take the chance to send a low blow. All you knew is that you would end up in tears, and the two of you would be too upset for any conversation after that. 
So now, almost two years after your breakup, you think it’s okay to finally attend a party you knew he would be at. You had given him enough time, and Jisung himself had personally requested that you be there. In fact, the text that he had sent you made you miss the younger male so much. He had always been such a sweetheart. 
jisung [3:20 pm]: please come to the party tonight jisung [3:20 pm]: just bc haechan got custody after the divorce doesn’t mean you can just never hang out with us  jisung [3:21 pm]: we aaaaaaaall miss you  jisung [3:21 pm]: (haechan included) 
But maybe you shouldn’t have trusted the male so wholeheartedly because the second you get to the party, you’re overwhelmed by the way Haechan doesn’t let you out of his sight once he’s spotted you. And you can tell he’s pissed. He ignores his friends, and his tongue is permanently pressed to his cheek. 
However, you can’t deny that he looks good. His hair is longer than you remember it being; it’s swept back to frame his face, and it gives you a full view of how his eyebrows are scrunched together. You assume it’s in anger, and you’re correct. Because pissed is an understatement for how Haechan’s feeling. 
He couldn’t believe that you had the nerve, the audacity, to show up to a party that you knew he would be at. You had done a wonderful job of pretending he didn’t exist for two years, so why the hell did you choose to show your face tonight? 
Seeing you woke up something in him that he believed died in him long ago. It was like the flip switched. Now don’t get it twisted, Haechan had not fooled himself like you had. He knew that he was never getting over you. Not when he had dedicated most of his adolescent years to loving you. You were all he knew. 
Even now, seeing you after months of getting his heart broken, he’s not even sure if he’s truly angry. Hurt? Yes. Confused? Absolutely. But these were all emotions that he didn’t want to explore, not today. So anger welcomes him with open arms, and he happily falls into it. Even so, he doesn’t think he could ever truly hate you. 
If anything, he hated how much he wanted to kiss you. 
So without warning, he’s walking across the room towards you. His jaw is clenched, and there’s a dent in the red solo cup he’s holding. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do or say, but he just knows that some part of him needs to be near you. 
“Why are you here?” His question is direct, and his clipped tone hits you straight in the heart. You have no right to be hurt, you know this. That doesn’t mean you don’t want to cry when his anger is directed towards you. But you would rather die than let him know he had any effect on you. After all, you were just as stubborn and prideful as him.  
“I was invited here by our friends,” you bite back, doing your best to seem just as pissed off as he was and making sure to emphasize the fact that they boys were your friends as well. “You don’t own this house, and you surely can’t police me on where I can and can’t go.” 
He hates that you’re right. His friends, while they were his friends first, had you known you just as long as he did. Perhaps he was blinded by his heartbreak to not realize that his friends also felt deprived of your presence as well. 
But that wasn’t his fault. You were the one who broke it off. 
“Cut the bullshit,” he says, fighting back the urge to roll his eyes. You had come to this party to start trouble with him. He was sure of it. “You made sure to avoid everywhere I go like it was the plague for almost 2 years. You can’t expect me to believe that shit now.” 
Unlike him, you don’t fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “We’re not doing this here,” you state blandly, grabbing the drink from his hands and toasting him. “Thanks for the drink, by the way.” As quickly as he approached you, you disappeared from his sight. He watches as you walk into the arms of some random person, and he feels his anger skyrocket. God, you were actually infuriating. Even more so because he found that attitude of yours to be so attractive. 
He decides to give you this one moment; you could think that you won this argument, but he would be back when he had more alcohol in his system. There was no way he wanted to argue with you sober; he would definitely crumble. As cruel as it was, he wanted to hurt you just like you had hurt him. 
. . .
You know it’s not the last of Haechan, not when you provoked him by stealing his drink. Which was disgusting by the way. It would be more convenient to walk around with an entire bottle of liquor than to nurse whatever that concoction was. (If you must know, it was mostly vodka. There was about less than 2% of juice in the cup. He had planned on getting hammered.) 
The red solo cup is quickly ditched on a random table, and you find yourself wandering around for a while. It felt odd to be in the presence of your old friends. It’s even more odd when you find yourself in the arms of Na Jaemin himself. The male has a cheeky grin on his lips, shit-eating if you will. He had stolen you away from the party, deciding that the quietness of the backyard was the perfect place for the two of you to catch up. Or attempt to.  
“You guys set us up,” you accuse, poking a manicured finger on his chest. He can only laugh, pulling you into a tight hug. He had missed you and your attitude. 
“Innocent until proven guilty,” he says, enjoying the way you almost melt in his arms. It had been so long since he had hugged you. When you had broken up with Haechan, Jaemin was the most distraught, as he was arguably closer to you than him. But Jeno had guilted him into ignoring you with something along the lines of ‘bro code,’ and he hadn’t made much of an attempt to ever hang out. You couldn’t blame him; you were a coward too.  
“Not funny, Jaem,” you pout, leaning your head on his shoulder as he rocked the two of you back and forth to the muffled music. “You guys didn’t even warn him about me coming. That’s cruel.” 
“No, what's cruel is listening to my friend cry over you for almost two years.” Well, he didn’t have to say it like that. “It’s ridiculous. Just talk to him, I swear he is not as immature as he was before.” 
“I find that hard to believe,” your words are muffled against his shoulder. With his arms wrapped around you like, it felt like everything would be okay. 
“Just trust me,” Jaemin says, pulling away from you. This only results in you whining, chasing the warmth of his body. “I’ll go get us new drinks.” 
You can only pout as the man detaches himself from you and disappears into the house. Now you’re left on the bench alone, left to deal with your thoughts. Has Haechan really spent the past two years talking about you? As much as you don’t want to believe this, you know that it was most likely true. Haechan was obsessive and stubborn. He most definitely was hung up on you. 
God, you were so stupid to think that he would ever be able to get over you, not to sound conceited. For the longest time, he was all you knew. He knew everything about you; he was there for every cry and laugh. Of course, he couldn't just let you go. 
And you couldn’t let him go, no matter how much you lied to yourself. 
You had tried going on other dates and seeing other people. But it was difficult. No one understood you like Haechan did. He was irreplaceable. 
“So this is where you went.” Why? Why did he choose now to come back? “What? Breaking my heart wasn’t enough? Had to break Jaemin’s too?” 
You can only groan at his words; these boys would not give up until you talked it seemed. What a disaster tonight had turned out to be. “Can we not?” 
“Well, when can we? Huh?” Haechan is visibly upset. His hair isn’t as neat as it was when you had run into him earlier; you knew that he had spent an astonishing amount of time running his finger through his hair for it to get that messy. He is also much more drunk, you note. You can smell the alcohol on him as he slides onto the bench next to you. “I think right now is the perfect time.” 
“You’re drunk.” It’s a simple fact, but it seems that Haechan is unaware of his own state.
“It doesn’t matter.” He’s whining now. Another sign that he was undeniably drunk. He was smothering and affectionate when drunk. It was impossible to deal with him. And he only proves this when his head falls onto your shoulder, his hands quickly seeking out your own in a death grip. He’s got you trapped now. 
“Even when we’re broken up my life seems to always revolve around you still,” you mumble, so unbelievably annoyed that the boys had pushed you right into Haechan’s arms. You couldn’t escape him even in your dreams, and apparently, fate seemed hellbent on making you suffer. 
“Still?” It’s like something clicks in him, and he’s suddenly sobering up quickly. This was why he was dumped? Because you loved him too much? “What do you mean by that?” 
“Nothing.” You want to disappear. You try to pull your hand away, but his grip only tightens. There was no way he was letting you slip away now. 
It’s so annoying to Haechan, the way that you’re here physically, but mentally, you’re so far away. You’re avoiding his eyes, and it bothers him so much more than he’d like to admit. His hands are gone from your own and quickly placed on your face; the way he turns your face towards him is rougher than he intends. But he just needs to see you. 
“Stop pushing me away.” It’s a demand, not a plea. “I know you don’t mean it.” 
“You don’t know me anymore,” you say, doing your best to mean it. Even if you wanted to erase him from your life, Haechan would be the one who knew you the best. Like you were the back of his hand. “So just let me go, please?” 
“Why?” He’s getting angry again, you can tell in the way he squeezes your jaw. “You want to go back to your boy toy Jaemin?” 
“You’re being ridiculous. You’re going to regret this when you sober up.” You regret this, and you weren’t nearly as intoxicated as him. 
“The only thing that’s ridiculous is you thinking you could replace me,” he says, using his grip to pull you closer to him. As much as you try to pull away, Haechan doesn’t let you go. Therefore you’re stuck in this position, a pout forming on your lips. He was too close for comfort. Without warning, he’s diving in and biting at your earlobe. “Does Jaemin know how sensitive your ears are?” 
You’re flinching away from his hold, feeling overwhelmed by Haechan being in your personal space. You couldn’t escape him. “Nothing can replace you,” you say quietly, feeling pathetically small in his hold. How could you cave in so quickly?
This is why you had avoided him like your life depended on it for the past two years. Not even 24 hours within his presence, and you were like putty in his hands. He knew exactly what to say and do to make you crumble. After all, no one knew you like Haechan did. 
That’s why you find yourself nodding mindlessly to his words, returning the small touches and kisses. You don’t even stop yourself when he pulls you onto his lap, marking up your neck, his hand gripping your thigh. Even though Haechan knows deep down that this isn’t right, he does know that you were destined to be his, and he would stop at nothing to make you his again.
Maybe that’s why you wake up in his bed the next morning, feeling absolutely horrible. His arms are wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your neck. It was like the past two years of avoiding him meant nothing. And it probably did, even if you want to deny it. 
You had grown, sure, but you could have grown with Haechan. But it was so scary. Being in love was terrifying. And facing your ex of two years after sleeping with him was just as scary. 
So you do what you do best. 
You run away. 
576 notes · View notes
peach-and-bugs · 1 year
Note
Hi, I hope you are well, I fell in love with Nat's one-shot, so I was encouraged to ask for a request, well there are two that come to my head with different characters.
"Wow, you really never got out of your angsty teenage stage, did you?" with Teen Shauna (sorry it's just that you see those eyes and they bring back a lot of melancholy).
"Please tell me you didn't hold on to that all these years" with Lottie (1996) and Lottie (2021). I think with this one you can play with flashbacks of seeing what happened in the desert and their relationship in that timeline in 1996 as a reunion in 2021 somewhat angsty.
Sorry the request is so long, although I would like to add that I can imagine both requests with f reader, anyway thank you very much for everything, take your time and take care of yourself. ❤️
💚Flower stems for heartstrings - Lottie Matthews (1996 & 2021) x fem!Reader💚
Fanfiction master list
disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately
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Summary: y/n finds evidence of her teenage best friend (and secret crush) being alive after all, and a possible way of finding her thanks to modern internet and goes on a personal quest to find her and the truth, all while reminiscing about their teen years...
Warnings: Internalized homophobia, fem reader that dresses both "masc" and "fem", underage drinking and smoking weed, extremely angst but with a good ending
Word Count: 8,758
A/N: woohoo! We've surpassed word count on my longest oneshot with this fic, the record previously being 6,990. And ngl, this might be one of my favorites to date! Lottie is an extra special gal who deserves an extra long one-shot, so of course I'm going to give her extra attention. What can I say, I'm not immune to favoritism. This one was actually so fun! I loved getting to write about excited, young (and medicated, let's be fr) Lottie bc I think we forget just how much the wilderness took a toll on her. She was so lively before, it makes me so sad. But, I hope I was able to give her a little bit of that liveliness back in this fic! I think in the request "desert" was supposed to be wilderness, but I wanted to have the reader be left behind, which adds a whole different kind of angst to the situation. As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading!💚
Lottie Matthews Tag List:
General Tag List: @summergeezburr
-💚-
You’d only ever felt the way you did now only twice before in your life. Once when word got around that flight 2525 had mysteriously gone down in flames with no trace, and once again when you learned she’s been shipped off to god knows where for some kind of treatment. You hadn’t even gotten to say goodbye to her then and she was gone. 
It was a sickly green feeling that had you kneeling over with weak knees and a stone throat. Lottie Matthews, the girl you’d had your heart set on for all of these years, wasn’t gone. She wasn’t locked away or dead like gossip has always said. She was alive and well and looked like she was thriving. And how did you find this out? Through Instagram, of course. That might have been the worst part of all of this. 
One minute you’re mindlessly scrolling through your feed when an ad for a farmers market in some part of upstate New York, rather than New Jersey where you resided. But the ad featured a booth selling honey, and low and behold, there she was. Well, the photo didn’t give a clear picture of her face, but you refused to deny that it was her, despite how it made you sick. How could you forget that smile of hers after all? 
You had to put your phone away after that, but it didn’t help you sleep. A few hours into staring up at the ceiling, restless with gnawing curiosity, you decided sleep wouldn’t come till you found an answer. Rather spontaneously you packed a bag and got into your car. Was this the smartest thing to do? Hell no, but you had the weekend off for work anyways, and nothing stopped you from going, so you drove through the nightstand into the morning and drove by coffee, a podcast, and the straining urge that you needed to know what was going on.
-💚-
At some point in the night, you found your mind wandering as your eyes trained on the empty highway before you, highlighted by your headlights. You reminisce a time long before, even more than 25 years ago. Back when you had been a freshman in high school during your lunch period. You moved to Wiskayok, New Jersey late in the year, giving you an even later start to your first year of high school. You’d relatively been left alone and had decided you'd be alright with that. Not everyone can have friends right? So, alone you sat outside on the school's field, picking at the grass underfoot having already finished your lunch. 
Some students around you sat on the track or the stadium's bleachers with their friends, enjoying company and comradery or whatever and you didn’t like to admit how it made you jealous. But what was there for you to do to change it? You refused to look desperate and walk up to random groups of people who would probably talk about how lame you are behind your back-
“Hey, you alright?” the sudden voice in your direction yanked you out of your self-deprecating thoughts. Looking up you had to squint your eyes to try and make out who was talking to you as the sun shone in your eyes till they tilted their head, blocking it. After some adjustment from the sunspots in your eyes, you were greeted with a shy yet warm smile. 
“Um, yeah, I’m fine,” you uttered awkwardly, swallowing the frog in your throat that had your voice croaking. The girl chuckled and tottered down to the ground to sit beside you in the grass. She dressed well, was one of the first things you noticed. Her pink skirt and tall white socks were very countering to your grass-stained jeans, scuffed hightops, and t-shirt. 
“You sure, because you’re all by yourself,” she said rather matter of factly. 
“Well, maybe I like being alone. Think of that,” she arched her brow curiously. “And as far as I know you’re alone too,” she chuckled again with a little huff. 
“Tuche,” was all she replied, but she had a stupidly shiny grin on her face. Next, she reached out her hand to shake. “I’m Charlotte, by the way. But most people call me Lottie,” you hesitated for a standing moment, only staring at her hand as you kept yours loosely wrapped around your knees till you gave in, shaking her hand in greeting. 
“I’m y/n,” 
“Well y/n, tell me about yourself,” she spent the rest of that lunch period at your side, asking questions about you in exchange for the little tidbits you were willing to give her. It was so strange, looking back now, how a because girl decided you looked lonely you'd be driving to upstate New York on a random Thursday night due to your desperation to find her again. 
Lottie had always been charismatic. She liked people. She looked at them like puzzles made special for her to figure out. Maybe that was her way of avoiding herself, or maybe she just had a natural curiosity for those she didn’t understand. But from that day on, she hadn’t left you alone. She’d excitedly greet you in the halls, and invite you out with her friends and to late-night parties. She was the one who integrated you into the community and helped you find a place. 
But she also became your best friend. However, you struggled to feel like you were hers sometimes. She was so bright and colorful, full of life and boy was she popular. She always had someone with her, unless she found the time for you exclusively, which dwindled more and more as high school progressed. Of course, this is a concern you could talk to her about but you didn’t want to bother. In truth, you feared your feelings were driven by selfishness. You thought you'd never voice it, but oh, how you undoubtedly adored Lottie Matthews. 
You felt her encase you when she was close and her laugh was enough to have you swooning. You thrived in her presence and basked in the littlest bit of attention she may offer you. Her touch was electrifying and when she grabbed your hand when she greeted you you felt what had to be magic. But of course, you could never tell. Sure, you knew you were gay and you were so fortunate that you’re mother said it was ok, but you’d never tell, ever. Even if the ache felt like it was squeezing you, you couldn’t lose Lottie. You didn’t want to scare her away and be a freak. 
Part of you wonders if that’s why you'd lost Lottie after all. You hadn’t been honest with her. No, that wasn’t rational. A secret didn’t take down an airplane. 
-💚-
You didn’t arrive till mid-afternoon, late morning, the sun high above as you made your way towards this market. They had their location posted online, so with a quick search and an input to your mapping app you were all set to go. Moments like that reminded you of how on your road trips with your mother growing up she'd have you read the map in the passenger's seat beside her, your finger tailing over the highways towards the little star sticker added on to be your final destination. Strange how so little time felt like it had passed since then yet a whole life as well.
Venders had been set up for some time now and enjoying the comfortable air as they mingled and shopped. You hooked a tote bag over your shoulder to look less conspicuous (although there inherently isn’t anything conspicuous about a middle-aged queer woman at a farmers market, still. You felt a need to keep a low profile). You wandered for some time, looking for a stall that said something like sunset honey, or maybe it was sunnyside. Something involving both the sun and honey, and it looked like the people working wore a lot of purples. 
Honestly, it was a very nice market in itself. Had you had ulterior motives for attending you would have quite enjoyed it. That is still you grew distracted by a florist’s stand. The owner had lovely premade bouquets that ranged in a variety of colors and sizes, but what caught your eye where the assortment of white and pastel metal buckets housing small assortments of different flowers, meant to be starters for gardening. In particular stood out the small purple flowers known for growing naturally back home, in Wiskayok. You tentatively reached out to stroke the petals. 
You hadn’t formally been invited to the party, but it was one of those words get around kind of things, she no one was actually invited, right? At least, that's what you'd told yourself as you got ready in your room, obsessively messing with your hair in the mirror. It was one of those beer-guzzling bonfire things that the seniors hosted on the outskirts of the woods now and then. This time, however, the justification was the girl's soccer team going to nationals, and after the whole pep rally earlier in the day, it did sound justified. 
You pulled back from the mirror to look back down at your clothes. You'd layered a black plaid dress with thin straps over a white sweater that’s sleeves cut off just below your elbow with tights and docs. You tugged at your coller, attempting not to grimace. Sure, you liked dressing feminine now and then, but when it came to events like this you couldn’t help the anxiety, especially with drunk boys. But still, you wanted to look nice, even if the drinks being served were from a beer keg. It just felt like one of those nights, you figured. You sighed and forced yourself to leave as there was a car horn honking outside, grabbing your backpack along the way as you went. It’d be good to have a quick getaway available to you if need be. 
“Have fun, hun! Make good choices for me, ok?” your mom called to you from the couch, watching one of her late-night shows while sipping tea and crocheting something as you went downstairs. You smiled, walked up beside her at the end of the couch, and kissed her forehead. 
“I will, mama, I promise,” you forced a tiny smile. She hummed her thanks and smiled, opening her eyes to take a look at you.
“Show me this little number you assembled for me,” she said, taking off her eyeglasses and gesturing up and down with her crochet hook as she readjusted in her seat to get a better view. You stretched out an arm, the other firmly holding your backpack to your shoulder, and did a turn around for her. She smiled wide and gave you playful applause. 
“Cute! And do you like it? Everything fits well?” 
“Yes, Mom, I promise,” you sighed, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. It was a new dress you hadn’t worn yet and you knew she was only doing the classic mom routine but you had to go!
“Alright, you go have fun. And tell your friend Charlotte good luck at nationals!” she called after you as you shut the door front door and locked it. You turned, illuminated by your porchlight, and waved to your ride. Van had the passenger window of Taisa’s car down and she waved back with a confident grin on her face. You could hear Depeche Mode playing on the radio as you approached the car. You opened the door and slid inside with a quick smile. 
“Thanks for the ride, Taissa,” you said, trying not to sound as shy as you felt. She smiled in the rearview mirror, checking her surroundings as she turned down the radio. 
“Yeah, no problem girl,” she said with effortless confidence. You didn’t know Taissa or Van, or much of the school's soccer team all that well, but in your mutual connection to Lottie over the past four years you’d tagged along with them quite often and they’d always been nice to you.
“We couldn’t say no after Lottie was so adamant we were nice,” Van joked quite loudly to Taissa, giving you an up and down with that grin again. You stared for a second, unsure of what she was trying to imply till Taissa smacked the goalie in the arm with the back of her hand, hissing her name to make her shut up as she started driving. The redhead let out an undignified yelp.
“She’s being an asshole. And confusing. Lottie wanted you to come and she knew we’d be the best people to pick you up is all,” you still had a confused look on your face, your shoulders hunched inward. 
“Um ok, thanks?” you said it more like a question. 
“What she means, is that we like you. And we’ll tell you we like you,” Van chimed in again. She wasn’t as helpful to you as she thought she was.
“Right, ok. Is there something else going on that I’m not cluing in on?” Tai and Van shared a knowing look. 
“Ok, so the other day Lot kept going on about how she worries that you don’t feel like we’re all friends, and doesn’t want you to feel like you’re just her other friend that tags along, ya know? So we figured we pick you up and tell you that, because some of the other girls on the team aren't the best at communicating, ya know?”
“Oh. So we're friends?” you sounded far more surprised and eager than you would have wanted to. “And Lottie told you all that? About me, I mean?” Van grinned once more, fully turning around in her seat. 
“Yeah, dude! I think you’re really cool actually!” you began to smile more than before and leaned back, straightening up your posture. 
“And, yes, Lot had all that to say and more,” Tai added on. You were thankful for the dark car hiding any color that might have rushed to your face. 
“She talks about you all the time,” Van blabbed on. Tai gave her a look that told the goalie to keep quiet now. Just as she did you pulled up to another house in the neighborhood that has Lottie sitting on the front porch. She shot up when she saw the car but took a last-minute look at the front door like she was waiting for something. Van maneuvered in her seat to hang out the window. “Hurry up slowpoke or we’ll be late to our party,” Lottie all but yelped and ran to the car after that, toward your side of the car. 
You didn’t have enough time to move out of the way and before you knew it Lottie had flung the door open with an exhilarated grin, laughing as she climbed in over your lap to collapse in the seat beside you in the back. She’d picked to wear all pink, which was just so fitting for her. You noticed in particular that she was wearing one of her shorter skirts that she giggled to you about hiding from her mother. 
“Shut the door and go!” she said through giggles, and once you had the time to process what was happening you did just that, closing the now-opened door to your right, and Taissa was off. Lottie lunged forward in her seat and punched Van in the shoulder, laughing all the while. “God, fuck you! I could have been caught because of that,” she griped as Van dramatically clutched her arm. 
“Ugh, what’s with beating on the goalie tonight? I gotta stay fit for nationals and I’ll be covered in bruises at this rate,” 
“Whatever. You’re always covered in bruises, and not all of them are from soccer,” Lottie implied, her hands gripping Taissa’s headrest in front of her so she could lean forward and talk to the two girls up front. That is till she scooted back to give you her full attention. 
“Well, you’re liking fine as hell tonight hot stuff! Have you been hiding this little number?” Lottie asked, reaching out to touch the material of the dress you were wearing along your leg. You managed to force a laugh and playfully swatter her hand away with shifty eye contact. 
“It’s new. My mom got it for me during our last mall trip. She wanted me to expand my wardrobe or whatever,” you played off causally. Lottie gave you a knowing smile and sighed as she turned to look out the window. 
“I think it looks great, just like you always do,” she murmured rather quietly. You weren't even sure you were supposed to hear her. Not long after Tai parked and you all got out of the car. Van yelled something at the crowd that had already gotten things started and there was a low collection of howling and yelling in response to her. Lottie got out of the car before you but stopped and waited by your door for you to get out with her. She said nothing but had that perky smile on the whole time as she watched you expectantly.
“So, whatcha wanna do?” you asked. She shrugged. 
“I dunno. Maybe get reeeeeally drunk,” she toyed, reaching out to take your hand like it had become second nature. Tai walked up to the two of you from the driver seat of the car, double-checking as she locked it shut and shoved her keys in her jacket pocket. She made a purposefully obvious glance down at your entwined fingers then back up to Lottie.
“Careful Lot, people might talk,” she said with what Lottie took as a comfortable coolness but it sent a shiver down your back that caused you to think about pulling away. 
“Pfft! I don't give a flying fuck! Let them talk!” she announced quite loudly, leaning forward with her free hand on her hip. She turned her gaze back to you and wiggled her brows as she grinned. “Come on. Get a drink with me,” she urged, tugging you away from Taissa. 
“Don’t listen to her. No one is looking, and if they are they don’t care. What’s wrong with holding hands anyway?” Lottie babbled on as she pulled you in line for a beer with her. She was still holding onto your hand quite tight as she jumped into rambling about something related to her French class. Maybe a recent test? You weren't exactly sure. Despite everything she’d said before, it felt like everyone was looking, but not because of you. Because of Lottie. She was the pretty, popular girl while you were just the weirdo she hung around. With that idea in your head, it was pretty hard to not be self-continuous. You were so in your head that you didn’t notice her shoving a beer in your hand. 
“Wha- oh, thanks,” you stuttered. You'd let go of her hand to get your drink, opting to use both hands to hold it. Lottie frowned as she was handed her drink ans thanked the guy passing them out. 
“Hey, you alright? Lost you for a sec,” she murmured. She’d become so gentle all of a sudden. Were you really that fragile? She forced a smile and nodded.
“Yeah, I'm great. Just haven't gotten into the party mood yet, I guess,” 
“Oh, ok. Do you wanna step away, clear your head a bit?” you shook your head no. 
“Nah, I'm good. I’m just gonna grab something from my bag in Tai’s car, ok?” Lottie tilted her head, almost like she was trying to look at you from a new angle. 
“I can go with you,” she offered. God, why did she have to be so attentive and sweet?
“I promise I’ll be fine-” you started only for a distraction to catch your eye. “Hey, Shauna and Jackie are over that way. I’ll meet up with you when I’m done,” you offered, dialing up that chipper tone as high as you could. She finally gave in and nodded, making her way over to her other friends while you crept away to dash toward Tai, wherever she was. You eventually found her after dodging around cars and trees listening to Van argue with a group of boys about something sports-related probably. That honestly wasn’t a huge concern of hers at the moment. 
“Hey, Taissa. can I borrow your keys?” Taissa arched a brow. 
“You’re not trying to use my car to go joyriding or to fuck, right?” 
“What? Oh my god- no. I just wanna get something from my bag. It’s in the car,” 
“Where's Lot?” why is that relevant right now?
“She’s with Jackie and Shauna,” you began messing with the loose hair falling in your face, averting your eyes from her. Tai gave you an up and down before tugging at Van’s jacket. 
“Van, go with y/n to my car, ok?” 
“I was just in the middle-” Van started till Tai arched a brow and she gave in. Tai dropped her keys in the redhead's hand and you were off to the car again. 
“Do you already wanna leave?” Van asked, walking backward in front of you. 
“No, I just want something from my bag,” Van slowed to walk in stride with her hands in her pockets, watching you as you watched everyone who passed. 
“Care to share?” you just looked at her and finally managed a laugh.
“I’ll share when we get there,” upon reaching the car and unlocking it, you grabbed your bag and made your way to a more secluded edge over the party where you’d be left alone, Van trailing close behind till you set your solo cup on the ground, sat down saddle style on an old, knocked-over log to rummage through your bag. You pulled out a baggy you’d been holding onto and a lighter.
“Damn, y/n, I didn’t think you the type,” the goalie said as she dropped down across from you. “Where’d ya get it?” she asked, taking the joint you pulled out to share. 
“My older brother. He lives with my dad while he’s going to school and I visited him over Christmas and he gave me a few that I use quite sparingly. 
“Divorced?” she asked, referring to your parents. You shrugged.
“Kinda, but not really? It’s weird. They still like each other and get along but they aren't exclusive by any means. Dad works in Cali while mom moved here to look after her mom who’s a few houses down from us,” you explained as you fidgeted with the lighter, fixated on the way the flame moved up and down, on and off. Van snatched it out of your hand during an “off” moment to light the joint now placed firmly between her teeth. 
You simply watched her process, lighting the joint and then taking in a long breath before holding and letting it go with a sigh as though she was relieved before passing it to you. She did the same, watching your breath in with your eyes shut only to exhale into the dark, finishing off with a small cough before passing it once again. You could see streetlights from the main road from here, you realized. 
“You’re into Lot, aren’t you?” her voice was low to not attract attention, but she was confident in what she had asked. You paused, staring out at the lights just a short walk away. Normally, an insinuation that you were gay would have you panicked. It could have been the weed, but maybe you'd relaxed and found some sliver of comfort in the redhead, your new companion.
“I think I do,” you whistled through your teeth at your admission. You turned to meet her eyes when she nudged your shoulder with the side of her hand, passing the joint off again. “Think I’m a lost cause?” Van snorted and shook her head.
“Oh, hell no. That girl’s crazy about you,” Van said with a sigh, leaning back on her hands where she was sitting on the log. “Now, I don’t know what type of way she feels. Sexual, romantic, or just friendship. But there's something there. Lot’s banked a lot on you,” you began to smile again, soft and mellow as you took another hit. After that one, you leaned down to take a chug of your beer. You offered to pass again, but Van had turned her attention back to the party, particularly to Taissa who looked like she was getting shit from Shauna. Even from over her, you could tell she was wasted given how she stumbled around. Van groaned and got up from where she was sitting.
“Keep it. I gotta deal with this,” she huffed as she left. You watched her go, eyes trailing after her to meet with Lottie’s, who was staring right at you, arm crossed over her chest and cup in hand. She seemed to hesitate between you and her arguing friends, but when the debate got particularly loud she turned with a furrowed brow. You watched her go and kept watching till Jackie derailed the entire situation, pulling all the girls away likely to yell at them. With that done, you sighed, leaning back to fully lie on the log, the joint between your lips and legs dangling over either side as you shut your eyes. 
“You hiding from me over here?” you opened your eyes. The joint was nearly out as it had just been sitting between your teeth for who knows how long by now. Lottie stood over you, arms still crossed as she held onto her nearly drained drink. you shook your head, sitting up as she sat down beside you on your left, much closer than Van had been. You readjusted, sitting properly with both legs over one side of the log, shoulders hunched. Lottie's arm brushed against yours when she moves. “You didn’t come back,” she simply steed with no malice or accusation in her voice. You shrugged. 
“I was getting overwhelmed I guess,” you murmured. “Didn’t feel like talking,” 
“You seemed chatty with Van” Again, she simply stated fact. You sighed and leaned down to take another drink. Lottie took the joint from your hand. You watched, then reached for the lighter to give it a second wind. She held it between her forefinger and thumb for you and once it ignited once more it found home between her lips. You watched, sipping your beer. She smoked far prettier than Van had.
“Van’s a good listener guess. Doesn’t talk too much,” Lottie snorted out a laugh at that. 
“I don't think anyone has ever said ‘Van Palmer doesn’t talk much’” you chuckled out a soft laugh to match hers. You looked away, out at the lights again. Lottie took another breath in, letting the joint sit between her fingers with her crossed arms. She watched the lights with you, though she might not understand the fixation you seemed to have on them. That is, till she paused, turning fully to watch you. She tilted her head again, unexpectedly brushing her fingers over your temple to guide loose hair obstructing her view out of the way and behind your ear. “Let me kiss you,” she murmured, almost as though she was pleading. You turned back to her. Her hand settled on your cheek, fingertips curiously brushing over the apple of your cheek.
“Don’t kid me,” you whispered, eyes glazing as you darted down to her parted lips. 
“Never,” she shook her head ever so slightly. It made her hair sway. You swallowed hard but shakily nodded. That was enough of a yes for her to move in. She immediately dropped the joint in her hand and the hand tracing your cheek found home on the back of your neck. Her now free hand rested behind your ear, stroking your hair as you latched onto her waist, using your left hand to hold you up on the log. 
She kissed like she knew exactly what she was doing. As though this had all been part of a longstanding plan. She’d envisioned this just as you had, and fuck was it perfect. Her lisp whereas urgent as your own and had it not been a public space you might have let her do anything she wanted to you right then and there. She scrunched her fist into your hair, unintentionally pulling ever so lightly on your scalp and eliciting a sudden moan from your throat which only egged her on further till she had to pull away with you chasing after her. 
You opened your eyes wide, lips still parted as you gasped for breath in and out. And then, of course, you got shy, anxious voices telling you she’d regret this immediately. You began to turn from her but the hand in your hair let go and moved to trace knuckles over your cheek and subsequently turn your eyes back to her. She shook her head, murmuring no over and over, soothing you like a child about to cry. And at that thought, the thought of crying alone, you felt the tears spike in your eyes. She watched your brow crinkle as your lip trembled and she pulled you into her chest, holding you as close as she could. 
The hand on your neck found your back as the hand on your cheek moved to cup the back of your head. You buried into your neck as you cried, and she rested her cheek against your scalp, murmuring over and over how it was all ok. She kissed your hair, rubbed your back, and rocked you from side to side as your hands vigorously clung to her sweater, fearing letting her go, because what if the magic would be over and gone when she was out of your hands? 
But reluctantly you needed to let her go, and eventually, that point came where you emerged from her embrace, the scent of her shampoo and perfume fading from you quickly as you met her puffed, teary gaze. She moved to hold your cheeks in her hands as her breath shook. You held your hands around hers, kissing her palm with a weak smile. Fortunately, that had her let go of a watery laugh. But neither of you spoke yet. You just sat in warm silence till you readjusted to be side by side once more, your head lulled to her shoulder with her cheek at your temple.
“Fuck, what do we even do after that?” you breathed, eyes training down to the long discarded joint and red solo cups with only sips left of beer in them, though yours has spilled at some point, soaking the ground under it. 
“I leave tomorrow,” she murmured back. You dressed your lips together before letting go of another sigh. 
“I know… we should have waited” she chuckled sleepily.
“I don’t think so,” you hummed your why. “I’ll be excited to get back here. Well, more excited than I already was to see you,” you chuckled, though your tongue dripped with wordless sarcasm. 
“Don’t forget about me,” 
“Oh, how could I ever after that?” she teased with another giggle. You smiled, nuzzling your nose into her shoulder. With the change in direction, you got an idea upon seeing a small purple flower growing just beside her shoe.
“I know how,” you started, reaching across her side to pick it, leaving a nice, long stem to tuck behind her ear and in her hair. You sat back to admire your work and smiled. “Purple suits you,” you decided, tucking some of the hair behind her ear for a better look at your work. She chuckled with a sniffle, her fingers gently wrapping around your palm, catching you to kiss your fingertips. 
“Mam, are you alright?” you were dragged out of your daydream like a shockwave and had to take several moments to ground yourself again, taking in a deep breath. You blinked repeatedly, shaking your head before forcing a smile. 
“Yes, I’m so sorry. I was remembering something I needed,” you said with a forced chuckle. The florist smiled, though he seemed a little unsure. You turned back to the flower, petal still gently settled between your fingers. “I’ll take this, while I’m here,” you said as you cleared your throat, gently picking up the small white bucket and giving it to the florist to ring up. 
“Ah, Ruellia caroliniensis. But it’s better known as Carolina Wild Petunia. A good choice. Pick it for any reason? I ask everybody that,” he asked, making meaningless small talk. Your eyes stayed focused on the waving petals of the plant as it was gently jostled around. 
“It just reminded me of someone I knew, I guess,” he smiled thoughtfully and nodded with a soft hum of acknowledgment before he asked you for cash or charge. You picked charge which resulted in you digging through your purse for your card. 
“Oh my god! y/n! A shrill voice called when you weren’t looking and just as you pulled out your debit card. You gave the florist you’re card before turning to look who it might be only to have the Misty Quigley herself approaching you with the wide smile and outstretched arms that you felt you had to reciprocate. She squeezed you quite tight and when she let go her hands remained at your side for a moment as she seemed to look at you in awe.
“Well, what the heck are you doing here?” she asked tilting her head with that smile still plastered across her lips till she gasped “Oh! Are you looking for Nat too?” you furrowed your brow and frowned. 
“What? No, I’m-”
“Uh, mam, you’re purchase?” the florist interrupted. You turned from Misty to grab your new belonging, which he had been so kind and bagged for you as well as outstretching your card back to you. 
“Yes, thank you so much! I truly appreciate it!” you said as chipperly as you could before ushering Misty out of the man’s stall and towards a clearing. “What, what are you talking about with Natalie?”
“She got kidnapped!” the blond exclaimed, adjusting her glasses. “She was taken from the motel she was staying in back home and we’re here to find her,” she blabbered on. 
“Hold on, when did Nat get out of rehab and who is we?”
“I dunno, a few weeks ago I think? So much had been going on and it's been hard to keep track and ‘we’ is me and Walter,” you were still confused about the situation and about to ask who Walter was when the man himself showed up. He’d be trailing behind Misty for some time, just casually in the background. He was so average you hadn’t even noticed him. The man waved and offered a smile. You tentatively returned the wave but still seemed confused. 
“I’m not here for Natalie. I didn’t hear about that at all. No, I’m looking for Lottie,” you said rather bluntly. Misty frowned and it was now her turn to be confused. 
“Lottie? But she’s been in Switzerland for years-” 
“Well I thought that too will I saw this,” you whispered, hissing through your teeth as you frantically pulled out your phone and the screenshot you’d taken of the farmers market Instagram post, zooming in on Lottie and shoving the device into her hands.
“No, that can’t be her,” 
“It is. I just- it’s not a great angle but I know it’s her,” you insisted. Misty began to scan the photo curiously, zooming back out when she let out a dramatic gasp and began excitedly smacking at your arm. 
“Purple people!” you yelled. “Purple people!” she repeated it to Walter this time, which summoned him to rush over and huddle around your phone.
“The purple people took Natalie!” she explained with far too much excitement for your liking. 
“Could they have taken Lottie,” Misty shrugged. 
“I dunno, maybe. But only one way to find out!” She shoved your phone back in your hand and began aggressively powerwalking away with Walter tight on her heels. You hesitated momentarily before shutting your phone off and shoving it into your purse, hustling after them. 
“Wait! Do you know where to go?”
“Yes! Of course! We found out from the other stalls,” she called back. “Get in your car and follow us!” she sounded far too excited for this whole ordeal, but what other options did you have to find Lottie? You ran back to your car, got in, and started with heavy breath ready to take the next step on this crazy adventure you found yourself on. 
-💚-
After quite a bit of driving, they pulled off into a bed and breakfast parking lot and parked. You parked beside them and got out with a frustrated expression. 
“We're not going tonight.” Misty rolled her eyes and she pulled her suitcase out of the trunk of what you assumed was Walter’s car. 
“Someone,” she was heavily implying someone to be Walter, especially with the annoyed, flat-mouthed looks he gave him “wanted to wait till morning because he thinks the cult will expect us at night,” you gave her a look that asked “really” and Misty threw up a hand, shaking her head as she grabbed onto her luggage. 
“I know! Trust me, I know, but captain’s orders,” she huffed as she followed Walter into the B&B. You paused, letting out an exasperated sigh before going to grab your duffle back and your plant. You hear Misty muttering about not using her real name as she and Walter get a room. 
“And it's just for one room, right?” the concierge asked. There was an irritatingly comedic back and forth of yes, and no, then both of them settled on no, two rooms would be fine. 
“And, um, you can put mine under the name Lady Mallowan,” Misty gave herself a name straight out of Clue or a shitty romance novel and you couldn’t help rolling your eyes. 
“Seventeen and eighteen. Up the stairs to the right,” then went back and forth with thank yous as they clumsily took their keys, then started deliberating about luggage when Walter offered to take the suitcase off of Misty’s hands. 
“Just one room under y/n l/n is fine, please,” you said simply. You saw Misty and her new boyfriend exchange an appalling look and you had to refrain from laughing. 
“Room nineteen,” 
“That’s great, thanks” You dropped your things upon entry, but gently placed your plant in its bed on the nightstand before collapsing on your bed with a long sigh. Of course, you'd need to get up and change, but for now, lying on your back in a bed that wasn’t yours was all you could feel like doing. That is till you got up from said bed and disappeared into the bathroom, returning with a small paper cup of water that you set on the nightstand as you sat on the edge of the bed. You tentatively opened the bag that held your plant and took it out, setting it on the stand to be out and in the fresh air. You gave it a light drink from the cup before you returned to the bathroom for a shower. 
-💚-
You were woken by Misty’s knock at you’re door bright and early at seven-thirty and back on the road by eight after grabbing complimentary breakfast to go. It was a rather long drive to wherever you were going, but you once again found ways to fill the time. That is till Walter took a screeching u-turn that almost caused a car crash on a winding, wet wooded road, but that was a conversation for later. You pulled up beside them and followed as they now stood excitedly outside a green gate that happened to have a matching bee on it. All you carried with you was your tote bag with your plant tucked away inside. Why you felt the need to bring it, you weren't sure, but it felt necessary. 
“The bee is where the purple people are!” Misty insistently explained.
“Ok, do we need to call them ‘the purple people” 
“Well, yes, but that's only till we get a better name for them. But anyway,” without another word of it, Misty ducked under the gate herself and began walking up the road. 
“Ok, we’re getting hit by a car if we do that-” you started but she shook her head. 
“It'll be fine. It looks decently short,”
“Well what about my car?” you urged. 
“Just lock it! Who’s pulling over in the rain to rob an unattended car out here?” you sighed with exasperation. 
“I dunno, maybe people from the cult we’re actively visiting,” you mumbled to yourself. 
“What was that!” 
“Nothing!” you huffed, following after Misty and now Walter, who had started moving shortly after her. She’d been right though. It was a rather short walk with no cars. You found yourself in what looked like a parking lot in the middle of the woods blocking off yet another road with an even larger fence in front of it. Misty and Walter were actively messing with an intercom system that seemed to have worked as they excitedly returned to your side. 
“Alright, so the man on the other end, I think his name was Jack or Jackson- anyway, he’s getting Natalie and she's coming to meet us here,”
“But what about Lottie?” Misty adjusted her glasses and folded her arms with a shrug. 
“I thought we could have Natalie confirm that, because we know she’s in there-”
“You don’t believe me,” you interrupted as she began trailing off.
“Well, we do not want to be making outlandish accusations to strangers, I mean-” she got easily distracted by the sound of someone walking down the pebbled path.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Nataline started with heavy irritation. 
“Oh, thank God you're safe,” Misty would have hugged her by now had the gate not been in her way.
“Safe? What are you talking about?” her attention turned to you and her eyes widened with further confusion “Hi, y/n,” she added tentatively. You awkwardly waved as she gave you a nod. 
“And who the fսck is this?” she gestured to Walter now. 
“Walter,” he simply introduced himself with a wave and a light chuckle before going on. “I've heard nothing but wonderful things about you” Natalie scrunched her nose, clearly not caring all that much about what impression Misty had given him of her upon first meeting. 
 “We're here to rescue you!” Misty eagerly interjected again. “I mean, you-you were kidnapped, right?”
“No. Uh, yes, technically I was, but it's no big deal, okay?” the notion that Natalie’s kidnapping wasnt that big of a deal was bewildering to Misty as seen on her face, but honestly you understood her reaction. 
“Lottie sent some people for me, but I'm not being held against my will,” she muttered, twisting her neck as she spoke. “Well, not anymore” It was now your turn to perk up. 
“I'm sorry, Lottie?”
“I told you she was here,” you hissed through your teeth at Misty, moving closer to the fencing. 
“Wait- as in Lottie? Lottie, who was committed to a mental institution in Switzerland? That Lottie?”
“Yes, Misty, that's the one,” Natalie turned to you once more “I'm assuming you had your theories or whatever?”
“Oh, I’m not here with them-” you paused. “Ok, originally I was coming here all on my own, but we ran into each other, and well,” from there you gave up.  
“Wait, Natalie, Natalie!” Misty derailed the conversation once again. “​​You're gonna have to elaborate, 
“Look, she runs a place here, and she's helping me reflect or whatever. So, you and your Hardy Boy can go home,” she looked Walter up and down again about Hardy Boy.
“But…”
“I'm doing a fսcking thing here, Misty. I don't need you getting in my way,” she’d lost patience with the blonde’s interruptions and persistence and in all honestly, you felt bad for her given how she shrank back at the raised tone. But she quickly toughened back up, turned on her heels, and marched back in the direction you'd come. 
“She seems nice,” Walter tried to lighten the mood. Natalie sighed with either exhaustion or irritation, watching them go before her eyes drifted to you, still standing in front of her. “You’re not done too?”
“Natalie, I need to see her,” she let out a scoffish chuckle and sighed through her nose. 
“Oh, I’m sure you do,” 
“I’m serious, Natalie,”
“Oh no, I can tell you are, don’t worry. Just- just give me a minute, alright. Let me ask my guy,” she began to turn but waited for you to nod before actually leaving. You stood still, turning to check your surroundings once more just to be as sure as possible. Natalie returned quite quickly with a man behind her. She shrugged, seeming surprised by the verdict herself as the gate’s electric lock began to unlatch letting you in. 
“Uh, my car is still parked with some of my things,” Natalie was already shaking her head. 
“We can have someone come and retrieve it all later,” Natalie’s companion started ad Natalie turned, already heading up the hill for a second time. 
“But you're not gonna need it!” she yelled behind her. Due to her eagerness to leave the scene, you were left walking beside the strange man who let you in. 
“So, I'm assuming you’re Jack or…” you drawled off but he chuckled, appreciating your intention. 
“Jeferson,” he cleared. 
“Right, ok. Nice to meet you,” you nodded, your hands clutching quite tight to the straps of your tote bag. “Look, I don’t mean to sound rude, but I’m only here to see Lottie not join your… well join whatever you're up to,” he laughed again and nodded. 
“Don’t worry. She knows you're here,” a shive rushed down your spine as you realized what was happening. “I’m instructed to take her to you, actually,” 
“Oh. wow, that’s just great. Yeah, great,” you whispered to yourself as you bit your lip, questioning if this was going to be a good idea after all. When you looked up again, taking a deep breath you were met with quite a beautiful scene before you. It was a nice, well-organized camp on a lake with cabins and what you assumed were social areas all around and throughout the woods. You paused for a moment to take it in and wonder, did Lottie make all of this? 
“Charlotte is waiting this way, Ms. l/n,” Jeferson interrupted your wonderings. 
“Mhm, I’m coming,” you had to manually tell your feet to move before you could follow him to the separate cabin that must be Lottie’s. He had already walked up the stairs by the time you approached the porch, taking a moment to appreciate its handiwork before trudging up the creaking wood. Jefferson opened the door but didn’t enter, only gesturing for you to go in. 
“Charlotte will be here as soon as she can step away,” he explained as you cautiously walked in. You nodded, turning around to give him your thanks but he was already shutting the door, leaving you to your own devices. For a moment you stood completely still, watching the wooden door anticipating her walking in at any second, but after a few seconds of stillness, your foot began bouncing with building anxiety squeezing at your chest. 
“Shit,” you hissed, turning to look around your surroundings and find something to help you calm down. You put your bag on the table, but take the time to take the plant out and set it beside your bag. You rubbed your sweating palms on your pants and began to wander around the single room you found yourself in. Her main space was split into a small lounge-ish office space with a kitchen on the other half. 
You assumed the bathroom and her bedroom were down in the back of the cabin and with a craning of your neck you could see in one of the rooms but you decided it best to leave that be. Wandering around the office space you ran your fingertips over the edge of her desk. You peaked over the edge, curiosity winning momentarily before you restrained yourself, instead turning to the art hung on her wall featuring deer and other wilderness things before resigning yourself to the couch facing her desk. 
You flopped down rather unceremoniously but couldn't help sitting stiff, hunched forward with your knee bouncing in anticipation. Your eyes trained on her desk again, which was mostly bare of anything decor-like other than the two small picture frames. You forced yourself to look away till your nerves kicked in again and you were back up and taking the large one into your hands. It featured a classic team photo of the soccer team back in high school, but earlier on during your sophomore year. 
You chuckled lightly scanning over the baby faces your old friends used to have. Having something familiar to look at was relaxing, you decided. Maybe not the most morally correct thing, but this was an exceptional situation. So, you moved on to the small one, thinking none of it till she got a look and your heart dropped again. Pressed pristinely against the glass was an all too familiar flower, nearly identical to the one you'd been carrying for the past day and a half. Only this one had far more wear to it, clearly showing its age. It had faded in color over time, taking on hues of parchment brown rather than the vibrant purples you’d been familiar with. You traced over the shapes of the petals, likely dry and dusty to the touch by now over its safety net of glass. That is till you heard the carbon door abruptly shut.
And oh, she was perfect. She was sickeningly, stunningly perfect but all you could do was freeze where you stood, grip tightening around the small wooden frame in your clasp out of fear you might drop it if you didn’t squeeze tight. And she stood just as stunned at you. Age had encompassed her face all this time, but it was still her face. The one you had ingrained in your mind, so much more detailed than any photograph. You felt your chin begin to quiver.  
“Please tell me you didn't hold on to that all these years" You had to force it out with your breath ad your brow bowed with the strain of keeping it together. And then she laughed. She laughed her laugh, now blossoming with the beautiful thing that is age, just as every other part of her was. She moved toward you as though she was floating. She took her caftan off so smoothly it was like the breeze itself removed it for her. And before anything else, she took the frame from your hands, fingertips brushing together only for a moment. She returned it to its place before shakily turning back to you, tears drizzling from her eyes as she smiled.
“How could I not,” she murmured with a laugh full of exasperated joy as though she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Her hands hovered over your arms as though she feared touching you would break the illusion, but with the way your lip trembled and tears rolled from your eyes as you held back a strangled sob she couldn’t refrain herself. It all felt so new and old all at once and oh, how overwhelming she was, her hands cupped at your face, thumbs stroking at your tears as you let it all go, sopping into her. 
Just as she had years before she murmured sweet nothing promising that you were safe and you were here, but not only you. After so much time she needed the reassurance of reality just as much. She pulled you in, just as before and your nose found its rightful place in the curve of her neck as her cheek found your scalp. She held you up and close as your knees began to shake and you had to grip onto her shoulder blades for what felt like dear life. You needed to feel her to truly know that she was here, she was real and she was yours, as were you.
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WIBTA if I(26nb) stopped answering my ex (27nb) or asked them to stop messaging me?
They aren't asking to get back together. A while back, my partner dumped me bc we just weren't talking as much, were into different things, and drifted apart. Normal stuff people break up over all the time. They told me there was no hard feelings on their end, and I was the same. It was kind of a bummer but the fact that I wasn't especially upset was evidence the relationship was dead at that point.
At the time, my New Ex™️ asked if I needed space or if it would be okay to check in on me from time to time and make sure I was okay because, even though I said I was fine, they were worried about the effect this would have on my mental health. I'm clinically depressed and they were aware things had gotten pretty drastic years before we even met, but the entire time we knew each other I was stable, and even when I was low I wasn't a danger to myself. I have meds and a good therapist and a lot of practice with coping strategies, I'm good to go, I got a handle on myself before we met and I still have a handle on myself now. Obviously mental health isn't a guaranteed thing and just because I'm currently okay doesn't mean I always will be, but I have the tools to handle it when needed.
All this to say, when they asked if they could check up on my mental health, I was a little taken aback, wondering if they thought this would drive me to something extreme and if so why would they think that. I assured them that I was fine, totally stable and doing well and they had nothing to worry about, but I'd like to stay friends so sure, message me whenever you want.
I figured they'd check in on me in the immediate aftermath, which they did, but I thought that once that aftermath had passed they would go back to messaging me more conversationally, if at all. But since then, they keep doing "check in's" every few weeks to make sure I'm okay. This is not something they did when we were dating. I've been playing along because I'm the one who said it was okay, but I'm starting to feel a little bit weird about it?
Maybe I'm being too sensitive but it rubs me the wrong way that they only message me to do these check-ins, as if they think I'm going to fly off the deep end because we broke up. As if messaging me isn't having a convo with a friend but is instead some sort of wellness check they're obligated to perform. Like I said, I was taken aback to begin with by the implications of this, but now that they're still treating me like that months later, it's kind of pissing me off.
They literally just say "checking in" and nothing else, and they don't seem keen to converse otherwise. It gives me wellness check vibes which bothers me because I'm not in crisis, I've never been in crisis while they've known me, and them dumping me certainly didn't change that. I cannot emphasize enough that even when I was deep in depressive lows while we dated, it was never their job to do this sort of thing and they only started doing it after we broke up. It feels like they think I'm too weak or too unstable to actually be okay without them, even though I've repeatedly said that I'm currently thriving and to my knowledge there's no reason for them to think I'm currently a danger to myself.
Part of me wants to just start ignoring the messages but I'm worried that if this person thinks I'm so at-risk they need to keep checking on me months and months after dumping me, they might assume the worst if I just stop answering. The rest of me wants to just ask them to knock it off, but in that case I'm worried I'll come off as defensive and unreasonable, like I'm being offended over someone caring about my wellbeing, or that my frustration with this behaviour will make it come off harsher than I want it to. I don’t want to attack them for being worried about me, even if I find the degree of worry a bit insulting at this point.
My ex does not have an anxiety disorder and is not an anxious person at all. I have never threatened to do anything to myself in the time they've known me, and my reaction to the breakup was very calm and casual. I don’t know why they're acting like this, but it feels... I dunno, infantilizing? Condescending? I don’t know how exactly to describe it other than that it kind of feels like a slap in the face after the years and years of work I put into getting to this point with my mental health, none of which I needed them or even knew them for.
Would I be the asshole if I asked them to stop and was honest about why? Should I just ask them to stop and not elaborate? But then, if they ask, I don't want to lie, but maybe this is a situation where honesty isn't the best policy? Should I keep my mouth shut because they aren't actually doing anything wrong and I'm the one who said I fine with them checking on me? I was fine with it in the short-term, if a bit confused, but I never imagined it would still be going on months later.
What are these acronyms?
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protectoratenova07 · 1 year
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I will never not get annoyed over people saying that Brian/Grue joining the Heroes was the obvious and easiest choice out there. Admittedly, the WOGs expand more on it, but even with what we get from Arc 4 when he talks about his trigger event, I can't comprehend how anyone wouldn't see the reasons for him not wanting to join the government sponsored heroes.
Basing this off memory, but to sum it up, Brian goes to him moms house after getting a text from Aisha asking for help. He finds her in some poor condition ( I don't think he goes into detail and it may not matter if he did cause he's not telling the full truth here) and when he tries to take her back to his dad's, their step-dad gets in thew ay and doesn't let them leave. Brian proceeds to beat him up, take his sister back, and gets powers sometime in between.
Then, he, aisha, and their dad go to the police the very next morning. They explain what happened and Brian still describes how he almost got sent to jail. Only aisha backing him up and his step-dad missing an asshole anonymous meeting saved him. And he still got some months of community service. Like, in my opinion he did the right thing every step of the way and still almost got screwed over.
Sometime later, (not immediately cause he's 14 to 15 when he gets powers) he decides to try and take care of aisha by being a villain to get enough money/backing to do it.
That's all described in arc 4. Now we get into the WOGs. Again, basing this off memory, but I can try to find them later.
First, Brian lied about his trigger, a little bit. General event still happened, but when he claimed he didn't know who the man was besides being his mom's new boyfriend, he lied. He knew that man bc it was the same boyfriend who had abused him in the past. And his mom brought him back and let him interact with his sister. Add in his mom's other problems and his dad's ("I wouldn't describe him as abusive") there was a fair bit of emotions Brian was going through that he didn't share. But at the end of the day, every adult in his life failed him and his sister. He wouldn't be willing to extend his trust as easily.
Second, a different WOG described Brian getting into crime in a panic bc aisha had done something afterward that led to her needing to get bailed out of something with money (again, going off memeory) so even if he wanted to join the wards he'd be doing it with a record. Presumably he later decided he might as well go all in on it and get aisha into a safer environment than both his parents. He probably thought it may help with keeping her out of trouble as well if she wasn't around two people who didn't know how to raise kids (not that he did either, but he probably thought he couldn't do worse).
Third, by WOG he did actually consider the wards, but after researching them decided they wouldn't be worth it. Admittedly this was moreso bc of his own hangups with commitment. Bc telling the big organization your power and identity then trying to bail wouldn't really work out, but apparently it was still preferable to a career of crime. It's not like the Protectorate would actually have authority to take a child away from their parents anyway without major proof, especially if that kid isn't a parahuman themself.
Fourth, the undersiders were generally a low risk high reward chance until Taylor joined and brought them her bad luck. They operated for a year and only got into some mild skirmishes with Lung and them being escape artist didn't have an issue with him. Besides that, they made a shot ton of money on top of the 2grand their sponsor gave them.
Fifth, I don't think we ever learned what the time table was for Coil helping out with Brian getting custody, especially given how suspicious Brian was of their mysterious boss and his motives preleviathan. Maybe Coil admitted to knowing Brian's problems and offered a solution at the start. Maybe Brian opened up with it as a condition to him joining. Or maybe after a few months of getting 2grand a relatively easy missions Brian decided to trust the boss who hadn't screwed him and ask for the money to be given to him in a legal paycheck for better chance at custody. I say that last option bc Brian is supposed to be the careful pragmatic one who thinks about his choices and doesn't do the crazy option unless bug girl decides to go full throttle and he begrudgingly goes along. And giving his personal details and a sure fire way of blackmail isn't excalty the pragmatic choice.
Tldr: he has to have some pretty big distrust of authority cause shifty parents and probably shotty police and by WOG became a criminal in a panic before going full in on it. Cause he was, again, like 15 years old.
Now, the argument for him joining the wards is that the Heroes/PRT could have snapped their fingers and given everything Brian would want. And seeing the deal Madcap got I can definitely see the idea behind it, but there are a few problems with that. A) Brian wouldn't know shit about how desperate the Heroes are bc they don't advertise that. B) I'm not sure how much power they would actually have over taking kids away from unhealthy environments cause laws and shit would probably limit that. C) as stated above, he says he almost got jailed for hurting his step-dad so I don't see him liking authority at this stage, no matter how just he was in the eyes of the law for it. D) Brian's own issues and that he's a 15 year old so he won't see the world as a perfectly rational being.
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grimreaperschild · 11 months
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this is my first fic ever and it’s kinda short but any advice + if you wanna see more let me know
warnings: some wednesday level threat maybe ooc wednesday not sure but stalker/infactuated wednesday
not proof read bc im dyslexic and it hurts my brain but i hope you enjoy ❤️
Wednesday trudged into the quad at the start of the semester, she would never admit it but with the new year looming over her she’s slightly exited for what new things she can uncover, there’s chatter of a new student and she hasn’t given it a second thought, even though nevermores resident artist xavier had gifted her a phone she still refused to succumb to such trivial things as gossip, that was of course until she saw you, walking into the quad with slumped shoulders and a shy smile next to the new principle, her eyes lingered on you for far longer than she seemed acceptable cursing herself when you met her eyes confusion evident in your expression though behind it she could see some form of hope, pulling her eyes away from you she tuned into the conversation enid and yoko were having about you vaguely annoyed that her interest was peaked.
y/n pov:
the car ride with my dad to nevermore was silent, as was the goodbye the principle greats me kindly enough and i think maybe this was a mistake, this was supposed to be an adventure but i was proven wrong as we stepped into the quad, the amount of eyes on me making me slightly nervous, zoning out to avoid the lecture on the old space i feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end
snapping my head up i meet the eyes of a girl dressed in black with pigtails, the curiosity of why she has a different uniform out ways the thoughts of how captivating she is, turning and cutting off mr harrow i jester with my head “who’s that, the goth girl” he tilts his head with obvious disdain “y/n it’s not a good idea to get involved with the wrong crowd, that’s wednesday addams and by the looks of it you’ve caught her attention, i feel my condolences are in offer, let’s continue the tour” i nod once taking in the new information stealing one last glance she seems occupied with her group of friends fighting down the disappointment that flashes through me i turn on my heel and follow along the rest of my tour black uniform painted in my mind.
moving in was easy enough and within a few hours my room is looking more mine, being tired i decide to nap knowing i have a long day tomorrow.
wednesdays pov:
i let my feet carry me, overcome with the strange need to know where the new student that i now know is called y/n is dorming, to my utter dismay her dorm is only a few doors down, this is all panning out to be too easy convincing herself that’s the only reason she has interest in you, it’s easy and something to do, heading back to her dorm to fill thing in and have him keep tabs on you came more naturally than expected.
over the next couple of days she manages to secure seats that have a clear view of you in classes, if you notice her impassive stare you don’t let on, she learns that you can control fire from thing, her own research brings up noting but happy pictures of you and your family from years ago on social media, she stands in the shower for half an hour contemplating why instagram doesn’t seem that bad anymore, research online is so much easier than trialing behind you, as fascinated as she is with you, your not that important not yet anyway.
y/n pov:
the past few weeks settling in have been good, i’ve made friends with enid and her boyfriend ajax, the group is a little quirky but it works all the same, joining them for lunch in the quad has become a regular occurrence, so has my seat next to wednesday i’ve embarrassingly tried a few times to engage in conversation with her only to be meet with a steely glance or a roll of her eyes.
enid let’s out a groan as her head hits the table “we’ve only been here for a few weeks and im already struggling with classes, how is that even possible” i let out a low chuckle “comon it’s not that bad plus im sure nes here can help you, right” as i turn to her she’s already glaring at me the use of nickname obviously peaking her intrest “call me that again and i’ll cut your tongue out” turning back to the book she was reading, i give enid a thumbs up “nes is definitely down to tutor you” the sudden movement of wednesday getting up and stomping away makes me jump slightly ignoring the way disappointment rolls off me in waves. “we are going to the lake you should come with” i already know she’s giving me the puppy eyes and i sigh as i look up and my suspicions are confirmed “let me go to my dorm and grab my swim stuff” enid squeals as she jumps clapping in excitement
wednesdays pov:
i watch as she stands in the mirror nose scrunched as she tries on another bikini, eventually picking a dark red set, my eyes scan over her body gulping it in, as she closes her dorm room behind her i turn back to the bathroom im in taking note of what different shampoo she has, finally giving into the mental struggle i turn on my heel determined to get atleast one more glimpse of the colour red
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to0thach3 · 2 years
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✧ cherry hearts ✧ eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: reader runs into eddie at the hideout on a tuesday. conversation, confessions, and cannabis-fueled touching ensues.
an: this is maybe the most self-indulgent thing i’ve ever written. it ends abruptly bc i've never written smut and i got scared lol.
cw: 18+ (minors dni), byers!reader, drug use (marijuana), alcohol mention, making out/heavy petting but no smut, reader has dated most of the older kids (steve, billy, nancy, robin, chrissy), reader is in her edgy phase, there is a small amount of billy sympathy and i will justify it if needed, reader is 19/eddie is 20, let me now if i missed anything.
word count: 4.9k
Moving back home to Hawkins by yourself was less than ideal, even if you were too proud to admit it out loud. You’d complained about the move to Lenora Hills since the day you’d found out about it. You’d driven your mother crazy with your protests, empty threats to hitchhike east, until she’d agreed to let you fly back to Indiana, with the non-negotiable condition that you would call home every Sunday, and that you would be staying with the Wheelers.
As welcoming and as warm as the Wheelers had been, moving in just before Christmas made you feel out of place. Mrs. Wheeler had run to Macy’s to make sure you had presents under the tree, and there was a new place setting at the dining room table. They had done everything to make you feel at home, but you still opted to get out of the house as much as you could, so they had time to celebrate as a family.
You’d sit at the park and write a letter to Will or El, or loiter at the video store during Steve and Robin’s shifts. Sometimes you’d get lucky and use the phone to talk to Billy for a few hours. When all else failed, you were never opposed to helping Max and her mom fix up their trailer.
On Christmas Eve, though, you’d finally run out of luck. All your friends had plans with their families, and you knew the Wheelers were home watching holiday movies. You ended up at the Hideout out of necessity, and the fact that they didn’t check ID was an added bonus.
You sat at the bar, sipping a bottom-shelf vodka cranberry and doodling on a napkin. You tuned out the live music for the most part until a low, honeyed voice introduced the next band.
“We’re Corroded Coffin.”
Oh, god.
A moody bassline filled the bar, and your eyes rolled back. God, what the hell was Eddie Munson doing here?
You’d only talked to the guy a handful of times, mostly during your sophomore year. After everything that had happened with Will, you’d started having nightmares. Nothing seemed to help until Chrissy had gotten you a sample from Eddie’s supply. You’d met up with him in the woods once a month or so, until you’d started going steady with Steve. He tried to stay away from that stuff while he’d been on the basketball team, and you had wanted to be supportive.
You never really gave Eddie Munson a second thought outside of your deals. He was a year older than you, and the closest link you had to him nowadays was Chrissy or Mike. Your paths never seemed to cross, but it had to be his band playing tonight.
You tried to keep you head down during their set, to focus on anything other than Eddie’s low voice underneath the heavy instrumentals, and you cursed yourself for not thinking to bring your Walkman. The bar was loud enough with its patrons alone, but the extra noise made it hard to even think. By the end of their set, your nails had dug little half-moons into your palms.
“Can I get a jack and coke, and another round for the lady?”
 The man speaking to the bartender talked with his hands. His forehead was covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his curly hair was pulled back in a messy knot.
You tried to keep your shoulders steady as your breaths quickened. He took the seat next to you, and you watched from the corner of your eye as he propped an elbow onto the bar, resting his chin in his hand, as he used the steel toe of his boot to spin your stool toward him. “You’re Steve Harrington’s girlfriend, aren’t you?”
Eddie Munson didn’t even remember you.
“We broke up a couple of months ago, actually.” You hoped that the tremor in your voice wasn’t as noticeable as you thought it was. You supposed you should be insulted – sure, you hadn’t been friends, but you and Eddie had met several times. He didn’t remember you at all?
Eddie’s mouth twitched up at the corner. “Back with Hargrove, then?”
Out of all the people in this town, it had to be Eddie Munson.
“He’s in California with his mom.”
“Buckley? Or the Wheeler girl?” You stiffened when he said that, ready to dash to the door if you needed to, but his smile was genuine enough that you stayed put. “Relax, secret’s safe with me. I’ve got nobody to tell.”
You took another sip of your drink, trying to drown the butterflies that fluttered every time he smiled. “I’m not seeing anyone right now, actually.”
“Whaat?” The word was drawn out and incredulous. He leaned closer to you and you mimicked him without thinking. “Pretty girl like you? Don’t you have your pick of the litter?”
“No one’s in it for the long run, I guess.” You tried to bite your tongue, and failed. “What about you? Still screwing Chrissy Cunningham?”
He grinned widely, eyes crinkling. “Chrissy’s mostly into girls these days, sadly. But I’d be happy to remind her that you’re single again, if you want.”
So Chrissy had told him about the two of you. “I doubt you even know who I am, Munson.”
Somehow your faces were just inches apart, and when he whispered your name you could feel the heat of his breath. “Y/N Byers, everybody knows who you are.” He let the words linger for a few moments, and you couldn’t bring yourself to break the eye contact. Your body leaned closer of its own accord, and your noses were nearly touching when he spoke again, widening the gap. “But it did take me a second to recognize you. You look different.”
You let out a breathy laugh. “I already wasn’t fitting in in California. Figured it couldn’t hurt to change it up a little bit.” You crossed your legs, letting them rest on the bars of Eddie’s barstool. If you moved an inch, your legs would have been touching.
“So that explains the tan and the short skirt.” He gave you a once-over, and you told yourself that you were only imagining the way his eyes lingered on the tops of your thighs. “But I was talking more about the stripes in your hair and the pretty tattoos on your chest.”
You felt heat rise into your cheeks. You had managed to fit an entire adolescence’s worth of rebellion into nine short weeks, dyeing your hair and putting a silver bar through your tongue. Your mom had thrown a fit when you came home with the ink on your collarbones, a dozen small bats flying toward your sternum.
“Needed a bigger change,” you finally said, moving to cross your legs the other way. Your knee bumped lightly against his thigh, and his eyes snapped back up to yours. They were a warm shade of brown, and darker than they had been a few minutes ago. “Do you like them?”
His arm reached out, and he rested his wrist on your knee. He was clearly showing off the tattoo below the crook of his arm, but all you could focus on were the cold rings touching your leg. “I think you have good taste.” He gripped your leg a little tighter, and the bats on his arm rippled with the movement. “Great minds think alike.” He looked at you for a long time, eyes flickering from your eyes to your mouth to the bats on your chest, and he was quiet for a long time. You were excruciatingly aware of every millimeter of your skin that was touching his.
 “So why’d you end it with Harrington?”
Whatever you thought was going to come out of Eddie’s mouth, it wasn’t that. “I, uh – We didn’t know how to make it work long distance. Actually, I didn’t know how, I guess. Steve, he wanted to try, but… honestly, I kind of wanted to leave this whole place behind. That didn’t work out, obviously.” The words came out rushed and choppy, but Eddie listened attentively. “Steve’s perfect, it’s probably better that I let him down sooner rather than later. He doesn’t need me holding him back. I can’t quite seem to stop hurting the people I date.”
Eddie ran a comforting thumb along your knee. “Do you wanna talk about it? I’m a good shoulder to cry on.” You didn’t doubt it. His shoulders were broad, and the leather of his jacket looked worn and soft. “I’m also a good distraction, if you wanna get out of here.”
You didn’t ask him to elaborate. You could use a distraction, even if it was just a quiet ride back to the Wheelers. “I would love to get out of here.”
✧✧✧
Feeling soft and comfortable, you stretched your legs out onto the dashboard, letting your head loll back against the headrest. The windows were rolled up, and you stared at the swirls of smoke that filled the van. Eddie tapped your arm, and you blindly grabbed the joint. You took a deep breath and held it for a moment, ready to exhale toward the ceiling, but his warm hand gripped your jaw and turned you toward him, letting the smoke wash over him. The center console put about a foot of space in between the two of you, and you were close enough to see his glazed eyes in the dim glow of the parking lot lights.
His hand squeezed your jaw lightly. “You’re so pretty. Why are you so pretty?”
You laughed, voice rough with smoke. “You’re stoned.” The whole situation started to seem a little funny. It was Christmas Eve, your family was two thousand miles away, and you were hotboxing with Eddie “The Freak” Munson. “God, my mom would kill me if she knew what I was doing right now.”
His hand dropped from your chin to the console, and he twisted his rings with a smile. “You never got caught when you used to smoke?”
“I was careful! Never when she was home, and never in the house if I could avoid it. Didn’t want Will thinking it had something to do with him. Jonathan probably caught on eventually, but he wouldn’t rat me out.” You passed the joint back to Eddie, who cracked his window to tap off some of the ash. “Plus, he’s no better. He’s got a new friend who deals, and I don’t think either of them have been sober since Halloween.”
“Why would your brother think you were smoking because of him?”
You shrugged, fiddling with the lever on your seat until you were sitting up a little straighter. “Because I was, I guess. Every time I closed my eyes, I just saw that body they’d pulled out of the quarry. I never thought that I might outlive either of my brothers, and it freaked me out. I was a mess. Mom was going crazy, I shut down. Jonathan had to plan the funeral by himself, which I’m going to spend the rest of my life apologizing for. Even when we found Will… I couldn’t get over it. I started buying from you because Chrissy thought it might help with the nightmares.”
Eddie adjusted his seat to be level with yours, and mimed a small bow. “Glad to be of service. I’ll try not to be hurt that you found another dealer.” He rolled the rest of the windows down a bit, and you reveled in the feeling of cold air entering your lungs.
“As if. This is the first time I’ve smoked in over a year.”
“Harrington make you quit?” Eddie reached into the back seat and grabbed a beer, offering it to you. You wrinkled your nose and shook your head, fishing a water out of your bag.
“Nah, he wouldn’t do that. But he was the reason, yeah. I tried to be the supportive girlfriend during basketball season, and that was hard to do when I was always high. Not that I was a great girlfriend either way.” You drummed your fingers along the plastic bottle in your hands. “I don’t wanna bore you, Munson. You don’t need to listen to my whining.”
Eddie took a swig of his beer and offered you the joint. His index finger brushed against yours, and you fought back a shiver.
“You say that like there’s something else I’d rather be doing,” he said. “I don’t know what you think my social life is like, but sharing a spliff with Y/N Byers is the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious! If my middle school self could see me now, he’d be so proud. I had the biggest crush on you back then. Remember when we found out we had to repeat a grade?”
You threw your head back and groaned. Eddie had been held back twice: he was a second-time senor, and he’d gone through eighth grade twice. You’d only been held back once, in the seventh grade, but it was a sore subject for you. The fact that you’d be graduating at 19 bugged you to no end. “That was on a technicality!”
Eddie laughed, and the warm sound filled the van with ease. “Whatever the reason, that was the first time I noticed you. Decided you were the girl of my dreams, yadda yadda yadda.”
You studied him in disbelief. “You never even talked to me until Chrissy introduced us.”
“I never said I wasn’t a coward!”
You hummed in response, reclining your seat and letting your eyes slip closed. You focused on the cold breeze, the hum of the streetlights, the scent of Eddie’s cologne.
“Can I ask you something personal?”
You rolled onto your side to face him, curious. “I guess so,” you said before pressing what was left of the joint to your mouth.
Eddie ran his tongue along the seam of his lips as if he were searching for the right words. “Are you still in love with Harrington?”
You inhaled quickly in surprise, sputtering out smoke. Eddie watched bemusedly while you recovered, nudging your water toward you. “You okay there, angel?”
You felt your cheeks go hot. “Just wasn’t expecting the question.” You drank your water in small sips. “No. No, I’m not in love with Steve. I love Steve, Steve is the best, but I think we both finally realize we’re not good together. Not as a couple, anyway.”
Eddie nodded, looking thoughtful. “What about your other exes? Still into any of them?”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re nosy. How many people do you think I’ve dated?”
“Five,” he answered promptly. “People talk, I listen. What can I say, I love gossip. Are you gonna answer the question?”
“It’s two! Where on earth did you hear five?”
Eddie tipped his chin down, looking at you knowingly. “Two you told your parents about. I thought we were being honest with each other, Byers.”
You kept your eyes locked with him, doing the calculations in your head of how trustworthy Eddie Munson really was. As far as you could tell, he didn’t have much to gain by outing you. Eventually, you caved. “If we’re being honest. I don’t really count Nancy. Being in love with your straight best friend is more embarrassing than anything. We kissed three times and I don’t think it meant anything to her.” You shrugged. “But, no, I’m not in love with Nancy anymore. Robin and I never used the L-word, and me and Chrissy are very happy in the friends-with-benefits stage.”
“And Billy?”
You didn’t like to talk about your feelings for Billy. It felt safer to leave them unspoken. But, you reasoned, your words would never leave this van. “I’m probably gonna love Billy for the rest of my life, but he’s going to be so much happier if her never comes back to Hawkins. ‘If you love someone, set them free,’ and all that shit.” You passed the now charred joint to Eddie, who took a quick drag before flicking the filter out the gap in his window. “We still talk as often as we can, but it’s not the same. I just need to move on.”
“What if he moved back?” Eddie took a deep drink from his bottle. “What would happen?”
You mulled the question over, your mind foggy. “I’d cry. I’d probably hug him. And I’d beg him to leave.”
Eddie whistled lowly. “Want him to stay gone that bad, huh?”
“I think everyone I care about should get the hell out of Hawkins before they end up dead.”
A heavy silence rolled over the two of you, and you scolded yourself for bringing down the mood. Here you were, playing twenty questions with one of the coolest guys you’d ever met, and you were lamenting the loss of your ex and the curse of your hometown. “Sorry.”
He smiled at you, stretching his legs back as he moved his seat back. “What for? I asked.”
“What about you? Any tragic love stories?”
“Oh, too many to count.”
“Oh, I’m sure. I pity all the ladies who’ve had their hearts broken by Eddie Munson.”
“What can I say?” He looked at you through heavy lids. “I drive the girls crazy.”
Your inhibitions were lowered and you had to fight back a whimper. “I don’t doubt it, Munson.”
His smile left you breathless, even though you’d seen it several times tonight. “Really? Didn’t think I was your type.”
“Oh, fuck off. You’ve been flirting with me since the bar.”
“I never denied that.”
“So what is this?” All the questions you’d been wanting to ask came spilling out. “Reliving childhood memories? Trying to sell? A holiday hookup? What do you want from me, Eddie?”
“Do you want me to be honest?”
You blinked. “Yes.”
“Completely, totally honest?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve had a thing for you since middle school. I knew you weren’t interested, so I kept my distance. I wanted to ask you out a couple years ago when we’d meet in the woods, but I never had the guts.” He tossed his empty beer bottle into the back seat, and you cringed at the sound it made. “Then you were with Hargrove. Then Harrington. Then you moved away. Mike told me you’d moved back, and I was going to stop by to see you, but… yeah, I guess I’m still kind of a pussy.” He laughed to himself, and looked over at you.
Your brain had shorted out somewhere around “middle school,” and the only thing you could really focus on was the way Eddie’s hair fell over his shoulders like silk. “And now that you know all my emotional baggage? Still think I’m crush-worthy?”
“Still want me to be honest?” You nodded, and he grinned crookedly. “I think you’re perfect. I think you’re too good for this shitty town. I think I could spend all night talking about how fucking cool it is that you’re even hanging out with me, and it goes without saying that I think you’re beautiful.”
You were leaning toward him now, silently cursing the center console that separated you from him. “You could still say it. If you wanted to.”
Eddie hesitated, searching your face for anything that indicated you were kidding. You stared back at him, eyes wide and waiting. “You’re so fucking pretty. I’ve always thought so, you know. You’ve got those eyes and that mouth and your body…” He scanned you up and down and drank in every inch he could see. The way you were angling yourself toward him gave him a clear view down your sweater. “I’m gonna stop myself there.”
“Don’t.” You were as close to him as you could be without tumbling into his lap. “Please keep talking.”
The hungry look in your eyes made his body go weak. “Come on, Byers, are you really gonna make me say it?”
You nodded. “Please.”
“You’re pretty much the only thing I’ve jacked off to since I was a freshman. I’m insanely jealous of anyone who’s been lucky enough to fuck you, and I think I’d be willing to commit arson if it meant your let me just touch you.”
His words drew a whine from your lips. “Can you please kiss me?”
Eddie’s hands were on you immediately, lifting you by the hips and maneuvering you onto his lap. You let out a sigh of relief at finally being able to touch him, and your body moved of its own accord, grinding your hips down onto his. Eddie groaned, overwhelmed by the fact that he was getting everything he’d ever wanted. “Fuck, honey. I thought you just wanted a kiss.”
“And I thought you wanted me.” The pout would have been evident in your voice even if Eddie couldn’t see it on your pretty lips. “Come on, Munson, thought you wanted everything.”
“God, baby. Just let me kiss you first, okay?” He kept one of his large hands on your hip, moving the other up to cup your jaw and guide your lips to his. You returned his kiss with fervor, and Eddie had to slide his hand around to the back of your neck to hold you still, biting lightly at your bottom lip and swallowing the little noises that escaped you. “Easy, sweetheart. There’s no rush, hm?” He pressed his lips to the corner of your mouth and started leaving a trail of kisses along your jawline and down your throat, sinking his teeth in just to hear you gasp.
“Oh, don’t tease me,” you breathed out, voice catching every time his mouth latched onto a new spot on your neck.
He left a kiss on your pulse point before licking up to the shell of your ear. “Actually,” he whispered, “I think you like it.” He guided your lips back to his, and you couldn’t help but let out a whine at the way he kissed you, deeply, overwhelming all your senses. You moved your hips again, and he pulled back with a groan. “Please let me take you home.” Your breath caught in your throat, and he was immediately covering your chest in open-mouthed kisses. “Please let me take you back to my place, I can barely see you in here.” Eddie gripped your waist tightly, holding you against him. “Plus, the heat in here is busted and you deserve better than a quick fuck in a cold van.”
You let out a breathy laugh. “You’re just afraid you won’t be able to keep it hard in the cold.”
“You wound me, Byers.”
You crawled back into the passenger seat, swatting Eddie’s hand away when he reached out to smack your ass. “Easy, Munson.”
“Thought you wanted to give me everything, baby. I don’t get to touch?”
“Get us to a real bed and you can touch it, ‘kay?”
“Deal, sweetheart.” The van creaked as he shifted it into drive, giving you a few moments to put your seat up and buckle your seatbelt before he peeled onto the street.
“Your uncle works nights, right?” you asked, shimmying to readjust your mini skirt. Eddie watched you out of the corner of his eye, making a note that the skirt’s zipper was on the side, not the back.
“Yep. You sure the Wheelers aren’t expecting you back tonight?”
“Mhmm. I’ve spent most nights since I’ve been back at Robin’s anyway, they’ll probably assume I’m with her. As long as I’m back for breakfast it should be fine.”
Eddie tapped out a beat on the steering wheel. “Since you made me spill my guts, can I ask you something?” He waited for your nod. “Do you and Robin ever – ah, never mind.” You might not had given it a second thought if he hadn’t gone red in the face, reaching up to rub his neck.
“What were you going to ask? Do Robin and I ever…” You looked at his blushing cheeks and connected the dots. “Eddie! You pervert!”
“Hey! It was just a question! You don’t have to answer it.”
You easily could have refused to answer and the subject would have been dropped. That was definitely what you had been about to do, when you noticed Eddie’s left hand stealthily readjusting the front of his jeans. Oh. “We do. We have. Quite a few times since I’ve been back.” Gauging his reaction, the way his knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, you continued. “So do me and Chrissy, if you were curious.”
The van swerved slightly. “Shit,” Eddie muttered, correcting it. “That’s fucking hot.”
You laughed. “Tell me about it. Fucking the head cheerleader really is an ego boost, isn’t it?”
Eddie nodded, and the two of you were laughing when the road turned to rubble as he turned into the trailer park.
“Welcome to my humble home,” he quipped, the van jerking as he pulled into his lot. You watched with a smile while he parked and got out of the van, jogging to the passenger side to open your door before you could do it yourself. “M’lady.” He bowed at the waist, extending his hand.
“Corny move, Munson.” You took his hand and helped you down the high step-off.
“You love it.” He moved his hand to your waist and struggled to unlock the trailer with one hand. “Shoes by the door, make yourself comfortable, Byers.”
You slipped off your shoes and let Eddie guide you to the back room. The door was plastered with posters and doodles and the words “THE FREAK” written in spray paint, with a crown above it.
“Nice place,” you commented as you stepped into what you deduced to be Eddie’s bedroom. The walls were just as covered as the door, a collage of blown-up metal band logos and a few framed autographs. There were clothes strewn around and it seemed like his main method of storage may have been shoe boxes, but the room was surprisingly tidy. The bed was even made, although a little sloppily.
“Ha ha ha.” Eddie feigned a laugh, reaching out to strum the guitar mounted over his mirror. “Very funny.”
“I’m serious,” you said, setting your purse on the floor beside the bed before sitting down on the foot of the mattress. “Better than my dad’s old place. At least this feels like a home.” You patted the bed beside you. “You gonna join me or what?”
Eddie grinned widely and shrugged off his leather jacket and denim vest underneath, tossing them onto a chair. The white tee shirt he wore was almost indecently tight, and you tried not to stare. “You’re impatient.” He grabbed a small metal box off his bedside table and sat cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Did you wanna smoke some more? Or are you out of practice?”
“I will if you are.” You crossed your legs at the ankles, overtly aware that Eddie was eye-level with your thighs. The dim lamp in the corner of the room cast shadows over his face and his eyes twinkled when he smiled up at you. “You’re so handsome.” The words slipped out so easily and thoughtlessly that you almost reconsidered your decision to keep smoking.
Eddie looked up from the joint he was rolling and grinned widely. “Flatterer,” he said, leaning forward to place a quick kiss to your knee, delighting in the way your face went pink. “I can’t wait to fuck you. You’re gonna look so pretty underneath me.”
“You have got to stop talking to me like that,” you whispered, keeping your eyes on his large hands and long fingers, and the pretty silver rings that adorned them. “It’s not fair.”
Still smiling, he placed the joint between his teeth and cupped his hand around it, flicking his lighter a few times until the embers stayed lit. He inhaled deeply before sitting up on his knees and leaning forward to press his lips to yours, breathing the smoke out steadily into your lungs. You gripped his shoulders to keep yourself balanced, and you quickly grew dizzy from the smoke and the sensation. Eddie broke away so you could both get some air, and you found yourself chasing his lips desperately.
Eddie watched you, the way the smoke slipped out from between your pink lips and how your skirt bunched up at your thighs. He wanted to take his time with you, worship the body he’d been fantasizing about for years. He didn’t count on you being so needy, so responsive. He stubbed out the joint, getting to his feet, and you looked up at him with wide eyes.
“So, how do you wanna do this, honey?” He slotted a leg in between your thighs, and it took all your focus to listen to him rather than move your hips against him. “I can be nice, or I can be mean, or I can be a little of both. Whatever you want.”
“Both,” you breathed out, the word coming out a whisper.
He gripped your jaw, and you swooned. “Speak up, sweetheart.”
“Both,” you repeated, louder this time. “Please.”
“’Please,’ huh?” Eddie ran his thumb over your lower lip. “I like that."
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march2nd · 5 months
Text
BEFORE THE STORM
FORGET ME (not) m.list next
prologue - BEFORE THE STORM
please note that I do not follow canon in this one , basically i have read the hunger games series a long time ago, and i can't read it again bc reading finnick's death scene pains me (that's why I am writing this ff, to give him a deserved happy ending). also english is not my first language!
tw: canon typical violence, mentions of psychological distress, allusions to using someone for their body , reader is still a minor in this chapter!
word count: 1313
When a tribute from your district gets chosen, they are basically considered to be dead meat already. Sure, they have been some exceptions from this rule, but your District is nothing like 1, 2 or even 4; you consider the games stupid, preparation for them a waste of time that can be spend on being useful in the society. Honestly you cannot count how many times you have calculated the probability of being chosen and the outcome is the same every time - extremely low but unfortunately never reaching zero as you had to sign up a few times for extra food rations after your father's death.
Up until last year you have considered yourself to be lucky - born into a moderately wealthy family renewed for inventing long distance communication system prone to any hacker attacks from the rats living in the underground as your parents would often say. However, now your father was six feet under after a successful assassination attempt that your family never came to terms with. Maybe he knew too much or did not want to work in the Capital anymore, wanting to spend more time with his beloved wife and four daughters here in District 3, you learned that in this cruel system people never were free no matter how much were they valued. After your father has not came home that day as it was scheduled your mother screams became engraved into your head, as she was the first to realize that he was never coming back. This event was shortly followed by confiscation of property and your wealth came next and suddenly the explanation presented by the peacekeepers stopped making any sense.
"He died in an accident in the lab," they said. "Nothing could have been done to save him, the burns were too severe" or "he was overworking himself and did not notice that something was wrong until it was too late." For you it was just a pack of lies that no matter how many times were repeated could never be believed. After his unexpected death you had to move houses - from your comfortable middle class house you were transferred to the one of the crappiest regions in your District, to live in the overpopulated and cramped blocks that looked like they could collapse at any moment. You couldn't blame your mom for this, as she couldn't afford anything else given that you were evicted from the old home by force. It was now given to the new peacekeepers commander as more and more of them were transferred to your District. For that you could only blame the society that was in dismay and social uneasiness. Before you blamed them for rioting or going on strikes - your indoctrinated brain could not support them as you have been sheltered for the hardship they endured most of your life.
With time, gone were your beautiful baby blue dresses, cute ribbons you used to tie in your hair and perfectly manicured nails. Fortunately, what stayed with you were your eyes full of wonder and hunger for knowledge. After few years you simply realized that this kind of life was not worth of living, that's why you wanted to change your family's fate once again, that's why you began trying your best at school. Little did you realize your plans were to be cut short as your father's life.
Since last year and your father's passing you had to sign up for the extra rations every time you could, but you knew that other children have been doing it all their life. Having discussed it with your family you knew next year would be better - your mother has found a job at a factory and knowing her intelligence she could be counting on getting a promotion any time soon. Back then she only left her job to rise you and your sisters up. Your oldest sister Stella, having turned 21 this year could be considered as the sunshine of your family. You think of her to be the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and so do many peacekeepers as she often disappeared with them for the night. This has never stopped her from laughing and dancing every time she had occasion to. Your second sister, Diana can be described to be Stella's moon, with her habit of keeping everything to herself and you deem her to be mysterious and dark. Truely you can never understand her. She was spending an awful amount of time near the outskirts of the city recently and had a head full of dangerous ideas. She has already turned 18 thus safe from the upcoming reaping.
Then there was you, sharing some of both of your older sister's characteristics. You have been dreaming of being selected to train and work for the Capitol. You want to project useful devices just as your father did. While you don't trust them you like the money you could get out of it. If your family were ever to be happy again, this is the path you must follow. You imagine Stella being finally free and doing whatever she pleases instead of worrying about all of your wellbeing, Diana could find her happiness and live in her own house with three cats or more, dedicating all her time to writing and reading, mom and little Elena could go with you to the Capitol as you imagine yourself as an esteemed engineer. To be honest, you cannot accept another future ahead of you. It has to come true, there was no other way to save you all from drowning in this mess. At least you think so.
It was agreed some time ago that your sister Elena would never take part in the reaping. She was very different and it was painful obvious. She was a genius, her intelligence was indescribable, she has already skipped some classes at school. The problem was she could turn off at any moment and trap herself in her own world. You had to accompany her to school every time as she would more often than not lose her way when she was alone. She was lonely, you could tell that but had a heart of gold. If she were to go to the Games it would be like sending a lamb to a slaughter. You and your family could have not live with the thought that you have willingly signed her up for the reaping and could allow the evil of this world to take her.
You dreamed of working for the Capital, you could call yourself selfish but there was no other option. No chance to change your family's fate for the better, no opportunity to get Elena proper therapy. You believed that you had to accept the reality you were in and take the most out of it for you and your family. That's why when at the day before the reaping, deep in the night Diana asked you whether you would like to organize an escape for your family and you lashed out on her.
"Do you even think about the others?!" you asked, trembling "and then what? Die in the woods out of hunger, dehydration or of a wild animal attack? You want all of us to die one by one?" After that she looked at you with disbelief and said: "and you want to work for our father's killers?'"
You swallowed and was fighting the urge not to slap her.
"Yes that's what I want. I want to guarantee a stable income and therapy for Elena and not to die of a glorified suicidal death." You look at her with hatred in your eyes. "But you Diana, you do what you want."
She leaves and then you cry yourself to sleep.
NOTES:
i'm still figuring what my writing style is, maybe i will edit this chapter in the future or change forms of narration but as for now i want to go further with the story! see you soon <3
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Hi guys I'm back to begging you for fic recs bc I am desperate once again:)))
Do you happen to know any fics centered around things thay we know/theorise about season 2? I tried looking for myself but I cannot find much and I was wondering if maybe you can help me
Potential spoilers for series two! If you are trying to avoid anything to do with series two of Good Omens you are best scrolling swiftly past this post!
You have been warned.
Here are a couple of fics with Maggie and Nina, a few with Muriel, and one about an angel with memory loss...
Unlikely bebop by Nyariewen (G)
Maggie and Nina discuss about something strange in the neighborhood: Mr Fell new music choices.
She asks how my husband is by angelZfell (G)
“Maggie asks how my husband is,” he laughed. Aziraphale spun around, completely ignoring the books he was rearranging on the shelf. “Pardon me?”
OR: really short story about them realizing how they act like a married couple.
barging into bookshops while holding plants by sunglass56 (NR)
i heard the clip released at the season 2 panel today and KNEW i had to write a fic around it
basically my imagining of how that scene would look plus extra super gay and sappy
A Million Colors In Between by CaspianTheGeek (T)
Crowley's always known why he Fell, but he was careful to never share that information with Aziraphale. That is until Muriel comes to visit, and the truth comes out.
5 things Muriel doesn't understand about earth (+1 she does) by agent_p_94 (G)
Muriel stares at the teacup.
"A human police officer would accept a cup of tea to drink," Aziraphale had said. Drink. She knows about drinking. “Whosoever drinketh of this water shall thirst again; but whosoever drinketh of the water I shall give him shall never thirst,” and so forth. Only, Muriel was always given to believe that sort of drinking was purely metaphorical, and the sort to which Aziraphale refers seems decidedly corporeal.
Hm.
Muriel has a lot to learn about earth, with and without Aziraphale's help.
A Stranger Among Us by charliebradcherry (T)
"Ridiculous? Ridiculous?" Crowley released a low guttural sound after his words and his hands itched to grab the angel by the lapels of his jacket. Luckily he still possessed enough bodily control to not shake the shit out of him right then and there. "I've watched your bookshop burn to a crisp once and I've felt the fear of losing you twice. You discorporated because a fucking human stepped foot inside your property without your consent and you call me ridiculous. You can think of me as overprotective right now, but I can't promise I won't lose my shit when I hear you say it."
Aziraphale's eyes traced the lines of the floorboard gaps beneath his feet. It was a nice way to distract himself from the depressing voice cracks that Crowley emitted without the intention to.
"We both wanted peace, and what'd ya know? We won't have that for at least the first few years! But if you keep treating life like everyone's an 'angel' at heart, I'll be stuck with a lifetime of worrying myself sick that you'll trust the wrong people and get killed in the process. I'd rather chug holy water. You understand?"
(Based on the new clip)
Hello, hello, hello, what's going on here, then? by HolRose (G)
Aziraphale is in the middle of entertaining a strange angel in his bookshop who has come incognito disguised (very badly) as a police officer, when Crowley appears. After making a few pointed comments and asking a question, the demon asks Aziraphale for ‘a word in private, angel’. This is what happened during that private conversation.
The end of the world by probably_publius (T)
Crowley and Aziraphale were able to stop The End of the World, but didn't see what would come afterwards. Aziraphale has lost his memory, and Crowley doesn't know if it's Heaven or Hell or something else entirely. All he can do is try and help Aziraphale regain an idea of who he is by telling him stories from their past together.
I had a dream where I was watching season 2 and wrote this.
- Mod D
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bitchesgetriches · 1 year
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hey glorious Bitches, I've had a wild year. Had a mental breakdown in Jan that forced me to leave my after-school teacher job ($21/hr). Ended up working for Kroger ($18.50/hr). Worst few months of work I've had in over a decade, possibly my entire life. And that's before even discussing the low wages. Radicalized me even more than I was before. Anyways, got a new job, doing the same kind of teaching as in my old job, but it pays around $30/hr. Most I've ever made in my life. First time I actually have "extra" money. Like I can go to a restaurant or a movie or buy myself some new jeans. and still have money leftover. Surprisingly, that first week I was really kind of... depressed about it. Going back to a desk job where I'm suddenly treated with human dignity, and now making a solid middle-class wage, just really reinforced in me how much the economy is bullshit, how much it exploits people financially and psychologically. The hardest working people are paid nothing while the highest paid people are often doing close to nothing. Anyways, I'm gonna avoid spending all this new money. Gonna make an emergency fund and actually try to save money to retire one day (maybe?). And def gonna find more ways to give back to the community. I'm already tipping better, bc every front-end worker is underpaid. And I try to buy something like a box of cookies which I give to the grocery workers when I leave. (I'd tip them if not that management would punish them for it.) Anyways, I'm lucky now with my lower middle class job and some human dignity. I'm super lucky actually. I just wish everyone knew how much of a scam our economy is, that capitalism is. Everyone deserves a living wage and dignity. treat people well. if you can afford it, tip well. everyone is struggling. ok, that's my weird little rant. thanks for listening and for putting out actually good financial/economic content.
"Weird little rant"? More like "SPEAKING THE TRUTH."
Honey we are SO proud of you for making this kind of progress in your career and life while still keeping your soul intact. Far too many people who reach financial stability completely forget what it's like to be one of the working poor. The "I got mine" mentality is too common in our capitalist society. We must never forget where we came from and how many people get left behind.
You're doing great and we're overjoyed for you. Keep it up, cutie pie.
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Raising the Minimum Wage Would Make All Our Lives Better 
Barbara Sloan's New Book Dares To Suggest Service Industry Professionals Deserve Financial Stability Too 
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Hi! I’ve seen your tags but I don’t think I’ve seen a post about it, so may I ask what your cowboy story is about?
Hellooo!
I need to go fix a lot of my tags bc I couldn't remember what I have posted about it, but mostly I did a few posts during Yeehawgust and that was it. XD
Ok so.
Several years ago I was binging episodes of Bonanza (I was also depressed ok), and stumbled across one called "The Avenger" which introduced this soft-spoken, genteel drifter who shows up just in time to stop some of the main characters from being executed for a crime they didn't commit. When they finally ask him why he cared enough to endanger himself with the real criminals, he explains his father was wrongfully killed and he's seeking the men who did it - yet the episode shows him going out of his way to avoid killing, even when up against some of the men he is after and him being a deadly-excellent crack shot.
We aren't given the man's proper name in the story, but he's from a town called Lasater, Kansas, and so Lasater is what the townfolk call him.
The episode was intended to spin off its own series, about Lasater, and another show, Outlaws, featured an episode starring the same actor with loosely the same story. This man was given a name, but it was imho a silly name so I stuck with Lasater. (I think he was loosely inspired by the Zane Grey character Lasater, which is probably why they gave him another name later.) In any case, the spinoff never happened, and Lasater's story remained unfinished.
But I loved him. I have rewatched that episode multiple times since. The character is just so....??
He befriends and protects a young boy in town. (He has a real soft spot for kids in particular, and in the Outlaws episode he allows an older boy to become his partner after similarly protecting and befriending him.)
He spoils his horse.
He's a loner by mission but you can tell he really likes people and enjoys having company.
He wears his hat adorably back on his head like a little kid.
He's really concerned with cleanliness, it's noted in both episodes lol.
He's kind and refuses to be provoked by hotheaded men.
He is moved to empathy for but not swayed by the damsel in distress.
He has a sense of humor drier than the desert.
He's dangerous in a calm sort of way.
He defeats the bad guys by compassionately but firmly convincing a scared woman to tell the truth (and then of course there is a shootout but he actually has very little to do with it).
I loved the character and the hints of his story (his lawman father hanged by outlaws, his town burned, his mission to bring the villains to justice - that justice being a jail and a court trial) so entirely, that when I found out the episode had entered the public domain, I dug in to write the rest of his story.
In my continuation, Lasater and his new young friend Sonny are on the trail of the remaining outlaws (it would have made a good mini series, but not a long-standing one probably, so I can tie up all the loose ends in a novel lol), and the trail leads them to a small town that wants nothing to do with trouble, but where they must make their final stand against the murderous gang. I get to turn a few more tropes on their head (like what roles Lasater and Sonny play in the climax, and a love interest who is not a love interest) and... Yeah. Couple of cowboys came and stole my heart.
Ended up writing it for last year's NaNoWriMo project and I'm trying to get up the time and energy to begin rewrites.
For now, the story is still called Lasater, Kansas. It may get a proper name someday. 😂
Thanks for asking!
Please enjoy some low quality gifs I made of Lasater's tv appearances:
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romanarose · 2 years
Text
Seattle
All fics master list here
Part 2 here
Seattle Masterlist
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Marc Spector X fem!reader (not super descriptive, but female pronouns are used.)
Fic Summary: A song fic to Seattle by Jason Walker. You call Marc late at night needing help from across the country. Over a series of lyrics and memories, it becomes clear that he can't help you when you won't help yourself.
WARNINGS!!!!: Domestic violence, child abuse, mentions of bodily harm, homelessness, talk of sex, the usual warnings when it comes to Marc Spector. No happy ending.
A/N: Reader is Jewish. Marc, as I hope you know, is JEWISH. I am a hopeful jewish convert. I tried my best to sprinkle little Jewish things throughout this fic, bc it's something I really love about Marc. If anything is wrong or offensive, LMK and I'll fix it. I am very very new to the process. I'll have translations in bold bc google doesn't translate Hebrew well. Also, I cried writing this. A lot. Not because I saw myself in the reader, but I saw myself in Marc. I was never in a DV situation, but my best friend was. And it was scary. As much as I tried to help, only she could make the choice to leave for good. It took years. By the end, she had lot a majority of contact with all her friends and family except me. It was the most terrifying time in my life. But now she's happily married to a great guy, and I was her bridesmaid last year. There's hope y'all.
*****************************************
Who else would be calling me at 3 am
Just to tell me you're still there
The sky's still falling
When Marc heard the buzz of his phone, he immediately jolted awake. A phone call at 3 am was never a great start.
Hm? What’s happen’n, Marc? Steven mumbled, waking up with less of a startle.
He saw your name on his phone and quickly answered “What’s going on?” 
“Jesus” He heard a short, tired chuckle. “Don’t sound so panicked.” 
Marc sat up “Are you okay? Talk to me.” He heard the sounds of the city around you. Why were you outside in Seattle at 3 Am in the fall? He pulled up his weather app where he already had Seattle saved. “It’s raining and it’s cold, why are you outside?”
There was a long pause. “Um. Me and Jack got in a fight, I needed to get some air…” You said this quietly, as if Marc wouldn’t hear you.
“Honey, you said you were leaving…” Marc tried not to chastise you. You had been married to Jack only a few years now, after a very short dating period. You hadn’t even been dating a year by the time you were married. That was intentional on Jacks part. He had always been controlling and as time went on, things kept getting progressively worse. He would go months without hearing from you. Jack was jealous. Marc had known you since childhood, growing up in the synagogue together. When you’re mom died, your dad became abusive. You and Marc were kindred souls. You never stayed in each other's orbit for very long, not after high school. But you always, always kept in touch. After all you’d been through…
 There was spring after he turned 18, when he left home. He wanted to drop out, but you convinced him to stay with you. You hid him in your room, that lasted all of one week. When your dad found him in your room at midnight, he kicked you out. After slapping you. You had to hold Marc back from fighting your dad. For that spring, it was youth shelters until graduation. It was a long, long road for both of you, but by the end, you were happy. Then Jack came along, and all hopes went out the window. 
Marc didn’t understand what you saw in him. Sometimes, with men like that, they are charming at first, but Marc never thought Jack even tried, and he looked average. Marc knew you had low self esteem, and Jack probably sniffed that out right away. Marc wasn’t exactly known for his self confidence, but he knew he was good looking. That was just a fact. And you? Well, you looked like heaven to him.
Tell me what you
Need to hear this time to make it count
And to get you out of
You steadied your voice, trying not to alarm him. “I know… I know… But he apologized and… things were going well for a while…” Marc could still hear your voice cracking, he could just envision your body language he knew so well. You were probably playing with your hair or rubbing your thumb along your other fingers. Nervous habit. “He’s my husband Marc…” you spoke softly, like you were trying to reason with yourself.
When you both became homeless, you and Marc would stay together when possible. Marc felt horrible for getting you kicked out, so he insisted on staying with you when he could, and knowing which Women’s shelter when he couldn’t. If there was only one bed, Marc insisted you take it. If there were no beds, you stayed together on the street. That happened a lot too. Chicago was a rough place. Marc’s dad sent him some money, Elias felt guiltier than shit. His home was always open to Marc, but he wasn’t going back there, he’d rather die. So instead, Elias sent money, and Marc paid your phone bill so he could stay in touch, no matter what. He paid for it all four years of college. Whatever the two of you had during those months, you shared.
“Can you please tell me what happened?”  Marc spoke softly, hoping it indicated concern, not impatience. He needed to know you were okay. He wanted you to be safe, but there was no rest from that when you were so far away and with a man like Jack. He tried to get you out multiple times, to no avail. This wasn’t the first late night call. “Husband or not, you don’t have to be miserable…” you were married in a baptist church, something he never could have seen you do. Even when you both were homeless, and you avoided the Chicago Jewish circles for fear your dad would find you, you still remained religious. You tried not to work on holy days, you said prayers, and always tried to have some sort of treat for Shabbat.
“I’m sorry I woke you” Your lip quivered, knowing he didn’t sleep well and you probably woke him from the precious few hours he got.
“Hey, hey, metuka, I was already up…” (sweetheart) A bold faced lie. He didn’t know what it was about you, but when he spoke to you, the Jew in him really came out. “You didn’t wake me, I promise.”
You didn’t believe him. You knew how he sounded when you woke him up. You’d done it enough times the last 2 decades “Can I… Can I maybe stay with you for a little? I’ll take the couch it’ll just be until I get on my feet, I have a little money saved so it wouldn’t be-”
“You can stay as long as you need, or want.” Marc’s heart jumped at the possibility, but he knew better than to get ahead of himself. Until you were in his arms, you weren’t really out of that god forsaken city that had done nothing but tear you down. “And hey, you’re already used to the cold and rain, so New York shouldn’t be that big of a change… just like home.” Those cold winters with you… how they stuck in his mind. Here’s gonna be your chance mate. Maybe…. If she comes. She said she was coming? Marc’s tone was playful, almost whimsical, but he got serious. “Did he hurt you again?” He knew the answer.
Seattle, I don't know why
You stand under the clouds expecting to stay dry
Can't you see the day you'll ever win
That battle
Is the day they'll take the rain out of
Seattle
You sigh. You can’t hide anything from him. But you try. “It wasn’t bad this time, Marc, really-”
“Honey.”
You rest your head against the cold building you were standing under, voice shaky “I just got out of the ER.”
You met Jack in Chicago, he insisted you both move to Seattle when you got married. Closer to his family, he said. Marc was in town at the time. He wondered if that had something to do with leaving. Jack had isolated you from all your friends but him. This was just the final move to cut you clean away from anyone who could help. Marc remembered the times in his life he was away from you for months or years, he always let you know he was alive. Sometimes, you couldn’t even grant him that. It wasn’t your fault, of course. Marc knew Jack hated him, and you were afraid of his reaction if he found texts or calls from him. Some days, he wanted so badly to reach out, but if you and him were in a wilderness period, he knew better. A text from him might get you hurt. There were times he could only assure himself that you were alive, because his dad would’ve called him if you weren’t. Elias and your dad still saw each other at the temple.
“Jesus! What the fuck did he do?” It had never been that bad before. The fact he ever laid a hand on you, let alone enough you needed first aid was bad enough, but you had never needed a doctor before. It was getting worse. He needed to stop this, to bring you home.
You and Marc spent a lot of time in Lake Michigan that summer on the streets, just trying to stay cool, sleeping by the beach during heat waves if there was nowhere to go. It was a long, hot summer. Horrible. On the hottest day on record, he remembers trying to keep you cool all day, but the shelters were full, businesses were shutting down because they couldn’t keep the air conditioning on. You had worked that day, and when he got you from your job, you seemed off. He remembers you passing out a few hours later, starting to seize in his arms. Heat stroke. A nurse stopped and helped, although there wasn’t much to do. You refused the hospital when you came too, you were saving up for college. He showed up at his parents house that night, begging his dad to help you. He did, of course. Elias is a good person. Marc was going to leave you there for a few days while you recovered, but you told him if he left, you were leaving. “Where you go, I will go, where you stay, I will stay.” You had quoted Ruth to him. How could he not love you after that? You and Marc stayed in the basement for 3 days. Elias sent you both off with money and food. You never saw his mom.
“He didn’t mean-”
“Tell me!” Marc, take a breath. “Please…”
The tears that you had been holding finally come, flashbacks from the night running through. “He slammed the door on my hand, I don’t think he meant to break it but… yeah.”
Marc disappeared that fall, when you began taking classes. For months you hardly heard anything from him, just the occasional text when you begged him to tell you he was alive. He showed up that winter, looking like he was dragged through hell, refusing to answer your questions. That winter… you’ll never forget. Marc asked his dad for one more favor, cosigning on a 6 month lease. Together, you and Marc lived in the tiniest goddamn efficiency apartment he had ever seen. You shared a bed, cuddling together in the bed just to save $5 on the heating bill. There was one night, you both had been so cold… You remained almost fully clothed the entire time, but you remember his hands holding you so tenderly… his hands in your curls, yours in his. Heat and the sound of gentle, tender kisses… You were each other’s first, but you never talked about it again.
Marc scrubbed his face with his free hand, trying not to break his phone in his grip. “How many?”
“How many what?”
“How many fingers did he break…” Marc spoke through gritted teeth. A long pause. “Tell me.” You have to meet her, she’s going to need help with her bags It was a very Steven thought.
“Three.”
He was going to kill Jack. He was going to break every single of his fingers and toes, one after the other. “I’m coming to get you.” Marc stood up, grabbing Steven’s laptop to search for flights. While Steven didn’t want you carrying bags with something broken, but Marc also knew you’d never leave if he wasn’t there.
He's still got that
Hold on you that makes you crazy
Your bags are packed
But you don't really plan on leaving
“Marc, no, I’ll come this week, I just gotta  take care of somethings” You don’t want him here, you know he’ll get in a fight with Jack. You don’t want Jack to hurt him, and you don’t want Jack to hurt you.
“That’s a lie and you know it!” Marc didn’t mean to raise his voice, even if it was over the phone. He knew how that made you wince. Even before Jack existed, your dad was a source of fear. “I’m sorry, sorry…”
For the next decade and a half, you and Marc’s paths would cross at various times. You graduated college and went on to do fairly well. No one would expect the year you spend homeless. Marc rarely visited, and he never saw his mom, but sometimes he’d come to town and see you and his dad. You and him would spend as much time with each other as you could, until he was on to his next adventure. That is, until you met Jack. Jack didn’t like Marc, didn’t trust him… Jack never forced you to stop talking to Marc, but slowly, slowly it was easier to just… stop sometimes. After the wedding, you would sometimes not talk to him for close to a year. But you always called on Rosh Hoshonnah. Always. The Jewish New year. You wanted a good start. And Marc was so, so good.
“Don’t. Come. out here. Or I’m not coming with you. I mean it.”
Marc knows damn well you weren’t likely to be coming with him either way.
Why do you wait?
All that city does is bring you down
And you could get out of
Marc, you gotta get her. She asked me not too He broke her fingers! Do you want me to just pick her up and carry her to the plane?
“Fine… just… come here as soon as you can. Gina will get you work at the diner until you find something in your field. We’ll take care of everything…” Marc knew you were slipping through his grasp, he wanted to reassure you that you didn’t need to worry about anything. “Just get the important documents, we’ll get you clothes and-”
The rain picked up again, you attempted to stay dry. “It’s okay, I got clothes… It’ll just take a few weeks maybe a month at most…” You’d have to find a new job, leave Jack and his family… You didn’t have any other friends that weren’t through him… Your dad wouldn’t want anything to do with you, he would never support a divorce.
Seattle, I don't know why
You stand under the clouds expecting to stay dry
Can't you see the day you'll ever win
That battle
Is the day they'll take the rain out of
Seattle
“Okay…” Marc knew he lost you. You weren’t coming. “Yeah maybe you can come out and we can… we can try this deli in town. Steven likes the soup.” He was entertaining himself to try to calm his mind. It’ll be okay, she’ll leave him, she’ll be okay…
You snicker “Damn, Steven lets you get food there? I thought he’d be strictly Whole Foods man” 
Hey! Marc smiles warmly. “He says since it’s kosher, he’ll allow it, as long as he doesn’t have to eat it.”
Fall, fall, falling
Oh, the sky keeps falling
And it gets so heavy on your heart
Fall, fall, falling
Oh, the tears keep falling
And you keep staying where you are
“Well that’s very nice of him…” You pause, thinking about how nice it would be to just live in New York with him, just you and him. It would be like your youth, the few years you and him spent drifting in and out of each other's lives. “Maybe we could go swim, like we used to?”
The thought of you in a swimsuit again… “Yeah.” He said. From the way he sounded, his thoughts were in your youth as well. “We could uh… we could go see Funny Girl and throw tomatoes at the actress you hate?” Marc don’t you dare Relax, she’s not coming. What do you mean? She never comes. She says she will, but she won’t.
You finally laugh. He could just imagine your face, all lit up and happy. “Yeah, that sounds great Marc, any chance to make Lea Michelle look stupid.” It’s how you deserved to be all the time.
Marc stood up to get a drink. He wasn’t sleeping tonight. “Yeah and… and Steven really wants to meet you.”
“I wanna meet him too. Hey! Purim is in a month, I think it’s only a few days before your birthday this year! Maybe we could go to a temple and celebrate?” Now he knew that you knew you weren’t coming. Marc hasn’t been to a synagogue since he left home. He knew you occasionally went, especially on the High Holidays. You would only ever bring this up if you never intended on coming. “Or maybe a different holiday, depending how long it takes me…”
Seattle, I don't know how
I'm supposed to help you if you won't leave town
Oh, can't you see the day you'll ever win
That battle
Is the day they'll take the rain out
The day they'll take the rain out of
Seattle
Marc felt the familiar tightness in his throat when he was losing you, the tears that rarely made an appearance, threatening to spill. “Yeah, yeah. That sounds amazing, Yafah sheli.” (my pretty) Marc had to take a deep breath to stop himself from crying. He closed his eyes tightly, hand shaking. “I’ll tell you what. I promise you, that if you come out here.” His voice broke, he covered it with a cough and tried again. “You come out here, I’ll go to temple with you for whatever holiday you want.” Marc crossed his arms on the counter, resting his head there. He needed you here, with the way things were escalating it would just get worse and worse until you were dead.
“Yeah. It’ll be like old times, huh?” You knew he knew. You’d leave, eventually. Maybe. But Jack deserves a second chance. He’s you’re husband, he loved you. Marc didn’t know him like you did, he didn’t understand… Marc should know what love does to you, it isn’t logical… It doesn’t make sense… But Marc doesn’t have to understand. 
Somehow, you couldn’t help but wonder where you’d be if the two of you had actually addressed what happened that night in December. Sometimes, as much as you push it away, you get flashbacks.
Blurry, hazy vision. His black shirt, your face in his neck, the look he gave you when he came inside you. You knew damn well how irresponsible it was, given your situation, but in the heat of the moment… Oh, so much heat. It wasn’t world changing or mind shattering, but it was love. Young love, puppy love, who knows. But you loved him and you knew back then he loved you two. Those 6 months were domestic bliss, you lived as a couple in every way but name and sexual, save for that night. Cooking, cleaning, work. Hell, you guys put together a small bookshelf without committing homicide. Why didn’t one of you just… said something? Marc wondered that too. He could practically smell the dollar store strawberry shampoo in your hair, and sometimes, if he concentrated, he felt the grip you had on his shoulder as he entered you. He had loved you so much in the moment, he didn’t know how to express it, so he simply never did.
Marc’s left fist was clenched hard in anger and frustration. Not with you. Never with you. But with the cards life constantly dealt you. His nails are digging into his palm. He wanted you here, he wanted you safe. You didn’t have to love him, just let him help… “Just um… Text me when you know the day, whatever it is I’ll make it work. Okay?”
He was so sweet. So pure. Everything the world threw at him and he still was the kindest person you knew. No matter what he thought of himself, no matter how much he hated himself, he was still so, so kind. “Yeah. of course. Thank you, Lamed Vovnik. I love you lots.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry. You step out into the rain to ground yourself again. (one of the 36. It's a Jewish tradition, it basically means you are a very, very good person)
Marc, I’m sorry… “I love you too, honey.” He clenched harder, as if he held on hard enough, you’d stay in his grasp. When he opens his fist, he’s sure there’ll be blood. “Be safe. Okay? You always have a home with me and Steven. Always.”
“I know. Hey uh. I think it’s best if you didn’t call or text or anything for a while, okay? He’s already suspicious…”
“I understand.” Marc knew what that meant. It meant he wouldn’t hear from you for months, maybe not a year. This was it for now. “Shalom. Ani mitga’gea elayich...” (goodbye, I miss you) His voice broke, and there was no hiding it this time. Marc covers his mouth and closed his eyes as a few rogue tears wetter his face. He should’ve been there. He should’ve told you he loved you, he should have stayed in Chicago to be with you and never let that piece of shit come near you. He should’ve never let you feel so low that you thought he was all you deserved.
You pull at your hair, Seattle’s signature rain hiding the fact you were crying too. “Shalom, Marc Spector. Ani ohevet ot’h’a” (good bye)(I love you)
Oh, can't you see
You'll never take the rain out of
Seattle
Seattle
****************************
THANK YOU FOR READING.
If this fic gets 100 notes, I'll write a part 2 with a happier ending.
Tagging a few people I thought might enjoy
@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @ahookedheroespureheart @howaboutcastiel
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