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oftenderweapons · 5 months

Text

Natural Connection | KNJ | Ch.5

A Small Town Swoons story

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Plum)

Wordcount: 3.6k

Genre: stragers to lovers, fluff, mild angst; ranger/trainer!Namjoon, Chef!reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: Plum wakes up needy, too bad Namjoon has already left her room. Their confrontation doesn't go where expected.

Trigger warnings: swearing, semi-public sex. Making out, grinding, dry humping, mutual masturbation, peaches and cream (i guess???). Musings on unprotected sex. Just a pinch of postcoital misunderstandings. Feral, possessive kissing and light biting.

A/N: Holy moly it's been two years???, but I guess it's better late than never, right? 😅💖 I decided to post this only now since I've already written the final 2 chapters. It's been tought, but I've decided it's time to return to this story and finally complete it (even though Ranger!Joon will be oh so dearly missed. I really didn't want to let go of him LOL, esp since it's time to drop this sunshine baby's full back story 😞🥺🥺🥺)

Here is my Masterlist, enjoy!

Navi: Part 1 – Part 2 — Part 3 – Part 4 - Part 5

When you saw Namjoon the next morning, you only remembered waking up to an empty bed.

It wasn't a pleasant feeling and you weren't ready to acknowledge it like a mature, emotionally stable adult.

“Good morning, Plum,” he murmured, standing very close beside you as he waited for his band of jocks to join you.

“Morning,” you replied, a bit grumpy, but hiding it behind the pretense of courtness.

“Did you sleep alright?” he asked, gentle and apprehensive.

“Uh-huh.”

“Not very wordy, mh?” He nodded to himself. “Okay.” And just like that, conversation was over.

You hated having him right beside you and wasting time in silence when all you wanted to do was hear him talk, but apparently you had to make do with what you had.

The guys arrived all together maybe two minutes after he stopped talking to you.

“Okay, let's stop by the equipment office so you can all get your climbing gear.”

Cruelty didn't even begin to cover the ugly feeling coursing through your every limb. It was a sour kind of betrayal, both from your own body and from the person who has so perfectly won you over in nothing but four days of half smiles and hard work and competent guidance.

It felt like your stomach was being played tennis with, slammed from one side to the other.

Namjoon seemed entirely oblivious to the wretched state you were in, especially once he knelt in front of you and tugged at the straps around your thighs, slipping two fingers in between the harness and your skin to make sure there was enough space for your muscles to flex comfortably. “All set?” he asked, but his voice was dark and once his eyes shot up to your face he couldn't hide a flicker of lust lighting up his guts.

This angle, he thought, was just the same as when he'd lifted your leg and placed the back of your knee over his shoulder, his nose diving in the metallic, earthy scent of you.

He was getting hard. He could tell.

But you took a step back. “Yes.” Your reply was glacial, and it seemed as if you couldn't remove your harness fast enough.

“I'll be right back,” you told him over your shoulder as you headed for the closest restroom in the sports hall.

Namjoon just nodded and watched you go.

“What did you do to her?” Jackson asked him, an unwelcome afterthought, like his personal little devil perched on his shoulder.

“I have no idea,” Namjoon replied, sincere and confused.

“Did you tell her something rude? With your typical lone wolf harshness?” Jaebeom pitched in.

“Who made her mad?” Asked Wooyoung, staring at your figure as you dashed across the hall.

“Namjoon,” said Jackson, not even bothering with stating that maybe you weren't mad at all, and that Namjoon had done absolutely nothing to upset you.

Yet, it was his interaction with you that had made you dash. Or so he thought.

“Go check on the girl, you fool! Didn't mother teach you anything?”

All the guys turned in Bangchan's direction and he seemed to quote, “Broke your heart I'll put it back together, I would wait forever and ever, and that's how it works, that's how you get the girl.”

Jackson and Jaebeom just stared at him, as if they couldn't recognise their friend at all.

“She literally said what every girl wants and we still act like girls are a mystery. Just listen to them, for goodness’ sake.”

Namjoon nodded for a couple seconds, then started in the direction you went.

He entered the corridor to the restroom, and hesitated by the shared washing room that gave access both to the men's toilets and the women's ones. He walked through the women's door. Three other doors in front of him.

He really, wholeheartedly hoped there weren't other women around.

“Plum, are you okay?”

Silence followed.

“I know you're here, Plum. I just need to know you're alright. I don't know what I said or did to upset you, but—”

A door opened and for a second he thought he would die of mortification, then he registered your face.

Relief, at first.

Then something else.

Your cheeks were aflame, and your chest too seemed to be on fire.

Your lips were as red as he'd ever seen them, and it wasn't makeup because he hadn't noticed any bright colour on your face earlier.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You nodded, still speechless.

“You don't seem okay. What is it? Did I—?”

“I am fine, Namjoon. Don't worry. I'm alright. Perfectly okay.”

“But you—”

“Wonderfully fantastic, Namjoon.” Your tone was clipped

You made your way to the door when he stepped in front of it. “Are you?”

You rolled your eyes. “I just told you so!”

He pinched a lock of your hair in between his thumb and forefinger, straightened it, then released it. “You were grumpy this morning.”

“Just stressed about climbing.”

“Nothing to do with me, so?”

You rolled your eyes. Why would he be so perceptive? “Absolutely not.”

“Am I frustrating you?” he asked, and stepped closer.

“Yes, immensely, with all your questions and— The guys will be suspicious. Do they know you—”

“That I came after you? Yes, they saw you dash and suggested I check in on you, which I wanted to do myself, but I wasn't sure it was a good idea, and their validation sort of helped. I know you're mad at me, I don't know why, though!”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You don't know why?!”

You tried to sidestep him, but he was like a wall in front of you. “I don't.”

“I woke up! Alone! I was…!” You gesticulated as if to complete your accusation, but the words wouldn't come out.

“I see,” Namjoon replied, and he immediately noticed it was patronising, which made you seethe at him, pointing a finger against his chest.

“Do not use that tone with me, mister. You could at least have left a note.”

He looked at you like you were nothing but a tiny little mouse he was about to thwart with his big bearish paws. “I'm sorry, Plum. You're right, I should have left a note.”

It was true, he'd dashed earlier that morning, but it was only because a deer had been found not far from the main road, his hind legs severely damaged, and he'd been called to help the local wildlife ranger to pick the animal up for rescue. “It was an emergency and I dashed out and—”

“I woke up and you were gone.” Your eyes were wide, perfectly showing the disbelief you'd felt. “I woke up—” you said, and the pause that followed was like you were looking for words and only the wrong ones were coming up. “I woke up,” you repeated, “wanting you,” you added, cheeks aflame again, eyes aimed at him like guns, like saying ‘you know what I mean’, “And you weren't there,” you concluded.

He stared at you for one or two blinks. “Wanting me?” He asked, and you shoved him back with both your hands, even more fed up.

He, however, caught your wrists and brought them down to your sides, jutting his chin forward in a cocky expression. “You wanted me.”

Your cheeks were boiling and your eyes couldn't bear his face any longer, so you turned them down, to the floor. “Yes.”

“Plum,” he called, his hands trailing up your forearms, all the way to your shoulders.

You shivered, but he proceeded still, headed for the sides of your neck, then your cheeks.

“You want me still, sweets?” His thumbs forced your face up, but your eyes were glued to the floor. “Come on, Plum. Look at me, darling.”

Reluctantly, you did.

“Oh, sweets,” he spoke, ever so gently, so tender. “I was called on an emergency by the rangers of the local park. We were rescuing a deer.”

Your pout was still glued to your face, and you weren't sure why. You're used to commandeering around ten men at a time, but this one, this specific man is not a force you can reckon with.

“I wanted to stay, Plum. I truly did.” He kissed your temple when your initial frustration seemed to subside. “Let me make it up to you, sweets.”

He touched the curve of your neck with his forefinger. “Was it when I asked about your day this morning?” He asked, his finger roaming across your collarbones. “When I asked how you slept?” His finger aimed even lower, just a few millimetres beneath the neckline of your top. He lowered his mouth to your ear, and when he spoke “Or was the sight of me kneeling in front of you, like when you came all over my mouth?”

Your insides clenched like you hadn't just given them the sort of satisfaction they were looking for.

“How can I make it up to you?” He asked, as if he needed to be in your good graces. “Anything you want, sweets.” While one hand drew the line of your side, coming to rest on your waist, the other rested on your jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing your lower lip, and his brow knit as if he were in physical pain from the longing. And goodness, if he knew how to pine…

You let your lips disclose for him and he inhaled sharply as the warmth of your exhale slithered past his fingertip.

His right hand slid from your waist to the small of your back, pulling you closer. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded.

“Do you want me to?”

You nodded again, and he smiled, so softly it killed you.

“Use your words, Plum.”

Your heartbeat skipped, your temper now entirely dissolved into warm honey. “Please, kiss me.”

He nodded, his smile so blindingly happy. And he lowered himself to you.

His lips were soft against your own, so delicate and tentative. No tongue, just tiny pecks.

He seemed ready to let go of you, but you had other thoughts in mind. He was already rising, and all you could do was grip the nape of his hair, and keep him still, kissing the line of his jaw now that his mouth was out of reach.

He pulled back, fighting you a little as you kept delivering open mouthed kisses to his throat, by now reaching his collarbone.

He tipped his head back to make eye contact with you and you stopped.

“You wannit?” He said, the words coming out like a dark purr, smooth and vaguely threatening.

You nodded, exasperated, then remembered his correction from before and whispered, “Will you fuck me, please?”

His grin was devilish and helpless at the same time. He shook his head and tried to angle himself away from you, running his hands through his hair.

He had only as much restraint as a well-disciplined, civilised, mannered man, no more no less.

Even a saint would break for you.

You thought he was about to head for the door and leave when he stood before it, locked it shut and turned back to you, with two great strides before slamming his mouth to yours and grabbing your ass, picking you up like you were nothing compared to what he usually lifts in the gym.

You found yourself with your back to the wall and him pressed up against your front, squeezing you in a way that could have been suffocating, except you loved the way he was so explicit in wanting you, and how easy you could read the restraint he was imposing on himself.

You ground against his navel and he lowered you just a little, so that your core was square against his pelvis.

“Woke up late,” you told him in between kisses and gasps. “I stretched over to your side—“

He tried to focus on your words but all he could do was stare at your mouth and register the bits he needed.

“I wanted you,” you said, and it came out like a cry.

“I know,” he said, soft, understanding, soothing.

“You weren’t there, and I was late, and I couldn’t—” You gasped as he dove for your throat, biting gently, making you arch into him, against him, your bodies flush against each other. “I was so mad. So frustrated.”

“Let it all out, sweets,” he said, reliable, steady, strong. “Lay it all on me.”

“I didn’t even have time to pull myself together ‘cause I was late,” you whine, and it came out so weak, so silly.

“I can fix that for you, if you want me to. Just say the words.” He didn’t even need anything done to himself, he just wanted to please you. So many years of well-spent solitude and self-control had taught him everything about patience, everything about himself. It was not his own pleasure he’d learnt to desire, but the pleasure he could give to someone else.

“Want you inside,” you mumbled, chasing his mouth, needing his lips sucking your own, tongues tangled together. Feeling him through his shorts, through your own shorts too was torture when he could be skin to skin against you, inside you, even.

“We’d need to stretch you first, it’s gonna take a bit, baby,” he reminded you, worried.

You bit your lip and looked away. “What if I’d already handled that?”

His eyes went wide, then he bit your chin fondly with a curious enthusiasm. “Just cause I looked at you while kneeling?”

You felt your cheeks flush with fire. “You were— It was like when, the other day you—”

“Hold tight,” he said, then freed an arm by using his forearm to hold you up from beneath both your thighs. With his spare hand, he shoved his shorts down before stopping. “Condom. Damn!”

You squeezed your eyes shut, then let your forehead fall to his shoulder. “Please…”

“Plum, I—”

You weren’t on birth control, and you couldn’t risk going bare. You possibly never could. Not with your period being the most irregular thing ever, and knowing that you could be ovulating any day now.

He helped you slide down his body. “You don’t happen to—”

“Left them in my bedside drawer.”

He let his forehead fall against the wall.

“I cannot go bare—” you offered weakly.

He kissed your temple. “I wouldn’t ask you that. Not even if we were both one hundred percent sure.”

You bit your lip again, thinking, a frown forming on your forehead. And then—

You took his hand in yours, dragged him to the washbasin, with its mirror right in front of you, and as you stood against the counter, his body pressed up behind you, you lowered your shorts, exposing your naked behind to him.

“Plum, I don't think this is a good idea,” he said, biting his tongue.

“You can just grind and I'll—” You brought your hand to your labia and traced a circle against your core that almost made you shiver.

“This could get messy,” he said.

You turned to look at him from over your shoulder and with a flirty smile you added, “I don’t remember it being a problem last time.”

He shook his head and grinned, wolfish and sexy.

You couldn’t quite align the sight of him now with the person he had been out in public about thirty minutes ago; and it got worse when he grabbed the left side of your face with his right hand and brought his mouth to your cheek, biting it gently, his lips giving it a slight suction, as if he were half between nibbling and kissing.

Your head was playing some hard rock soundtrack while it all happened, and it was feral, and you were almost disconnected from yourself but it was heavenly.

It was all heavenly until they knocked at the door.

You stared at each other in the mirror and he cursed under his breath.

“Keep going,” you whispered. “Let them eat cake.”

It took maybe a millisecond to win him over, and it got even rougher, his hand was at your neck, grabbing at the base of your jaw, and he gave a little jerk as your eyes rolled shut. He called for your attention and as soon as you mustered the strength to open your eyes, he brought his other hand to the hill of your pelvis, his hand dwarfing you as he cupped you. “Eyes on me, Plum.”

And you kept your pupils glued to his as he stuck two of his beautifully long, perfectly thick fingers inside you.

Your jaw went slack and he grinned, your hand reaching behind you to grab his ass, pushing him even closer up against you, clawing at his glute.

This time it was his jaw that was left hanging.

You were moving just right against each other, and the knocking stopped, and the last thing you knew was that he groaned, head thrown back before you felt it, hot and wet against you. His head snapped forward next, teeth sinking at the spot between your neck and shoulder as he tried to muffle a moan.

Similarly, you pressed the ball of your hand to your lips as your left one assisted his own between your legs, his fingers inside you while your digits worked on the outside.

He murmured sweet nothings in your ear as he focused on you, kissing, sucking, nibbling at the sensitive skin near your neck and jaw and collarbone. “Come on, Plum,” he whispered. “Come on my fingers, sweet thing. I promise I’ll be so good to you.” His mouth was everywhere on you, and his hand — the one not inside you — was so sweet on your face and your hair.

“I’ll give you anything tonight, I swear, Plum. Anything you want, you’ll have it. It’s all yours,” he said, back to his chivalrous, servicing self. “You’re so beautiful, so precious, so lovely.” His nose was deep in your hair, inhaling you, the osmanthus and elderflower of your shampoo. “I never thought I would find something like you. You’re unbelievable.”

And there was so much pining, so much longing in his dark and shimmering eyes, that when you looked at him again, you crumbled, your legs giving out, and you were lucky his arms had you locked in his embrace: his left one holding your torso and head upright while his hand cradled your face; his right arm instead ran across your waist and navel, his fingers still deep inside you, and it was only thanks to his forearm that you didn’t melt to the floor. His hips were pinning you to the hard edge of the counter, and you knew it would feel tender later, maybe bruise even, but in the haze of your ecstasy you almost found it sexy.

“There you go, Plum,” he cooed at you, his smile all gentle and apprehensive. “That’s my good girl.”

Your head fell back on his shoulder and he kissed you on your lips, a polite little peck that made your stomach flutter.

He was strong, he was dependable and steady, responsible, and it came so easy to you to give up control and just let him take over.

You’d always been neurotic — is that the right word? — about sex. About letting yourself be vulnerable and weak and passive, but with him you just let yourself float to his current, and that was probably one of the best choices you’d ever made.

Your eyes opened and when you finally put him on focus, he gave you this dreamy little smile, and just then you realised how rare it is to see his face like that, up close, but also so serene. So… happy?

“Hello?” you said and he shook his head slowly, as if amused.

“Hello,” he answered.

And you both giggled. “Are we in trouble?” You asked.

“Not sure. But I’m sure you’re nothing but trouble to me.” He gave you a squeeze as you were still in his arms and you were about to frown, not sure how to interpret his sentence. “Despicable, unresistable trouble.” His hand was still inside you and you clenched a little, ready to take more. He inhaled sharply. “Sweet, lovely trouble.” His thumb skimmed your hipbone fondly.

You breathed out slowly, trying to steady yourself. “I guess we should go before we get into any more trouble than this.”

He froze for a second, then nodded and let go of you. “Sure. I’ll just clean you up.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Oh, I’ll take care of that.”

“I don’t mind,” he said, but he was staring at the floor, and he was covering himself, and you could tell you’d made a mistake somewhere.

“You sure you don’t mind?” you ask, and he stopped and looked at your reflection.

You were dishevelled and half naked, but he stared at your face like that was the only thing that mattered.

“Of course I don’t?” He said, but it came out almost as a question. He grabbed a towel and soaked it under the tap. “I don’t know the etiquette about this kind of situation,” he murmured while rubbing the towel gently against your glutes. “I’d like to think this would be the polite thing to do. Fix the mess I make.”

Is it just a matter of politeness? you asked yourself, eyes averted. “Sure,” you said and smiled, like it’s no big deal.

Navi: Part 1 – Part 2 — Part 3 – Part 4 - Part 5

Taglist: @blushingatyou @ladykadyrova @sweetjellyfishland @starxclouds @ayanyamnyam (taglist is open!)

#small town swoons #natural connection #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon au #namjoon x yn #namjoon x plum #houseofddaeng #52hertz #bangtansorciere #btswritersclub

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khaleesiofalicante · 3 days

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hi! i need to get something off my chest, like in shadowhunter world both tv and books, books is my favourite not because i hate tv characters (bc teh emotional vulnerability was very well done there- i literally it was so hard to wait for my school to get over so i could watch the show) but bc books is the original stuff which i fell in love with for teh first time, also why though all teh series are really good in shadow world but tmi holds a special place in my heart (no matter how imperfect it is in certain places) which i think also translates into my love for book!malec more than show!malec. (the height difference bugs me so much in show bc its not the right one, alec loves being shorter than magnus, but i love matt sorry harry but matt is yeeahhh...) idk why i have never been able to attach myself to show malec fics as much to book!malec fics. I think the only long show!malec fic i read was yours that you made about detective alec and lawyer magnus, but that was bc i love your writing and stories (i love the book!malec and mavid ones more sorry !! but i cant david is an original character but i love him so much, sry got sidetracked) tbh i also felt that the next malec fic would be show malec bc i cant (even tho i have read the lmlt i think it was named.. one of teh first long fics you wrote which had asmodeus and alec relation) imagine book alec having a relationship with asmodeus which is even remotely decent. but show malec have always been more softer and more communicative about their vulnerabilities. (which makes me realize now, i also love the intensity of book!malec more, huh)

Anyways i dont know why i blabbered, but i see so many posts about it but i am sorry show malec but book malec is it for me. or more like every book character esp jace and clary is it for me than show clace too. (i think it was also because of the actors though jace's actor did an amazing job in the later seasons.) But i can't wait for your new malec fic, i am ready to gobble up anything you put out there srsly, like i trust you are gonna make it worth it (like i never thought i would like the rwrb fic so much as i do rn, bc like in my hea di have already read teh book and i know what happens but yeah i should have known!)

Also have you ever thought of making a show and book crossover fic? i think you made one maybe i dont remember but like would you ever consider working in that world again?

No, I think this is fair. You're allowed to have a preference. I like book malec better too - simply because there is more to their characters and I usually prefer book versions anyway.

Regarding the fic, first things first, you can imagine them however you want! I know for a fact not everyone who read TLND imagined Alec as Sebastian Stan (I will stand by this casting!!). But it's how I, as the writer, imagined it. My castings are simply for me - to be very honest. I pick faces and people who help me visualize my characters better. But that does not mean you have to do it too. I'm sure people on ao3 who read my fics but don't follow me tumblr have no idea about any of these castings. So, yeah. You can imagine them however you want.

I also want to note, since I got another ask about this as well, that the casting I choose doesn't really affect the personality and behavior of the characters. It's the other way around really. Sure in the show Alec doesn't have blue eyes and Magnus is shorter, but those (among a few other differences) are completely irrelevant to this fic. If someone is put off by Magnus being shorter (in my fic, I mean) then that's their problem. It's such a mundane detail (for me) and I'm not going to be mentioning the colour of their eyes and their height every five seconds. This fic is rather different so I doubt it'd be mentioned at all (considering it's alec pov too - if you notice he is the kind of character where i don't write a lot of descriptions for the people he interacts with because Alec doesn't care about that a lot)

But yeah. It really shouldn't matter. At least I hope not <3

#my fics

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crayonfears · 26 days

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How do you think these two losers acted in school (without the killing thing😃) because Honestly I think it’s interesting how both of them were in school (like what subjects they were good in bc I think Han Seok aced every subject or whatever was important for him) or what subject they hated with a passion (for me mathematics 💀) or how people thought of them together bc honestly rumours were definitely happening there 😃 waiting patiently for your next response 🌸 :3 ps. I will probably try to roast you with my memes now 😉

hi there, friend! arghhhh nooooo not the meme roast it's so over for me 😭

ough i'm probably the worst person to ask this question cuz it's been a minute since i think about school 😂 personally, i don't think han seok would've aced every subject. he's a nerd for sure - although i guess a geek would be more the right word - but he passes through school on average, skimming the top at best but never the top - he's not bothered with that. he probably thinks the whole education system is beneath him. he'd probably be too busy with being up in han seo's business to study much anyways 😂 for han seo, my personal hc is for him to being into the arts more. arts and crafts and stuff. things he can work with his hands - i think he'd enjoy and even excell at those actually. i think he's a fast learner too, so he may get good at anything if he just puts a little effort in, maybe having someone there to guide him on the right path.

they'd both be into sports, that's for sure. i'm always jumping back and forth as to how han seo got into hockey. whether he got into it first then han seok, or han seok first and he forced han seo to join. i love the idea of han seo being better than han seok too, which han seok wouldn't like very much haha. god, i wish we got to see more of them on the rink, esp with kdy's background in hockey ;;

and the rumors definitely be going around. han seok's clingy and insane ass vs. han seo always trying to avoid him whenever he could. what the hell is going on with those two, aren't they brothers??? 😂 i think there's a lot of school-age fics out there on ao3 if you want more of them at this age. i haven't read much because they aren't really my cuppa tea haha this is the best answer i could give you here

#the-ace-friend #jang bros #jang han seo #jang han seok #i do be thinking about a school bully type au a lot haha #the friend i used to talk to with about jangbros; we got this au going on called the boarding school au #many versions of that one too; one is them both being sent there; another is han seo is a scholarship student #and that gives han seok cause to bully him cuz he's a rich kid idk haha #ask #*crayonspeaks

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chronic-ghost · 11 months

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Hello 👋🏻

Hi ! I hope I'm not bothering you. Just wanted to pop into your ask box and tell you that I really enjoy reading your fics! I've been a fan of pedro pascal for some time now and I really really love reading your take!! Esp on Javi in liar liar! It was really funny and you made me laugh so much! Thank you so much for writing and sharing !! I really hope you write more soon! I can't wait to read 🖤

I saw you shared an ask game?? I had some questions? if you don't mind answering that is because I know its been some time since you posted it? Feel free to ignore it if you want.

15 16 29 34 39 41 and finally 69 for Liar Liar

Sorry if they're a lot you dont have to answer all of them! I just couldn't resist.

I love your work ! Hope you have a great day! 🖤

okay so i had to take a minute to read this and reread it and reread it again. You are absolutely NOT bothering me -- I read this after a particularly humbling day at work, and wow, I thought about it the rest of the day. Thank you SO MUCH for reading my work! I am so touched that you are a seasoned pp reader and you find my take unique! It's hard out here for a fic writer so messages like this truly make all the frustration and head-banging that comes with writing really worth it. 💗 you are so sweet and i hope there are good things for you to look forward to!

As for the ask game, I am more than happy to play! :) And if you'd like, you don't have to wait for those games to come around if you have a question about a fic or would like an update! My ask box is always open! Here's your questions:

15. What’s your favorite time to write?

Probably the mornings. I like the mornings the best in general and there's nothing better than starting the day with a good writing flow!

16. Do you write by hand, on your phone, or on your laptop?

oh man, laptop every single time. I write notes or ideas to myself on my phone when I'm in bed and the brain waves are pulsing, but I could never write long form on anything but my computer. I know writers who write everything down first AND THEN type them -- to me that is like god tier writing process. I am a weak, weak woman.

29. What’s something about your writing that you’re proud of?

When I make people laugh. Call it my "fawning" instincts, but I always try and make people laugh in different social situations -- to varying degrees of success. So when people laugh at my dumb jokes in fic, I'm really pleased with myself!

34. How much of your personal life/experience do you include in your fics?

😬 oof y'all are gonna be able to spot my kinks after this. But honestly, it depends on which fandom/situation I'm writing for. I wrote a Midnight Mass fic that was very, very personal to my experiences growing up in Texas around Catholics. On the other hand, I don't have the guts to be, uh, so public as the reader in 'blood makes noise'. I think most of my reader characters are a mix of myself and who I want to be.

39. What’s your most self-indulgent wip?

(oh, honey, they all are) i think it's a tie between (working title) Living Dead Girl, where reader becomes Max's blood donor and (working title) Riders of the Purple Sapir, where Din and reader go on a quest for vengeance against the men who killed her father. The cowboy goth in me is REAL excited about both of those.

41. Who’s your favorite character you’ve written?

Max is quickly becoming the little bug in my ear about most things. He has such a distinctive personality from other Pedro boys, I love it so much. All his little faces kill me.

But I've said this to a friend -- i think half the fun writing for the pedro boys is coming up with a reader character that perfectly meshes with them. What personality traits would drive them up the goddamn walls? What do they need to feel fulfilled in a partner? So if "reader" can count as a character, I really liked the reader in Go Ahead, I Dare Ya and Recovery Road. Just as insane as their counterparts.

69. What are your favorite fics at the moment?

YES YES YES i get to GUSH about the fics that have me gnawing at my cage bars:

Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat is literally everything I want in a fic. perfect extensions of the characters from the source media. new problems for them that make you see more facets of their personalities. so.must.fantastic.smut it makes me want to scream. the angst and the grief and the literal haunting of a dead spouse - or a spouse that you lost but maybe didn't ever actually have adsfaksldjf GHOSTS I LOVE GHOSTS. i cannot recommend this fic enough. i am on my hands and knees begging people to read it.

This one isn't pedro specific, but @astroboots's Every Me Every You is like my kryptonite. Every new chapter hits me in a place that I didn't know could hurt while being such a fun throw back to the good ol' days of the MCU. i feel like it's written specifically for those of us who were on tumblr during the 2012 avengers take over. Good times.

For just the sweetest, gentlest Dieter Bravo, please consider @stardustandskycrystals 's Curls. I stumbled across it one night before bed and I was up until like 2AM to finish it. It's adorable and I just need them all to be okay forever and happy and little Charlie is basically my child at this point. Oof!

*takes you by the shoulders* if you even remotely like Prospect or the sci fi genre, I am BEGGING YOU to read Compulsion by @iamskyereads. Like. Like. I cannot formulate words to express how fantastic this piece of fiction is. I want to leave detailed, thoughtful comments but my mind just goes blank after reading it. Her work is truly a staggering piece of world-building and character development. I cannot believe this art is just free for me to consume. i am . . . undone by how good it is. (you should also read her Lie To Me series, insanely good too)

I KNOW i'm missing some so if I forgot yours I am SO SORRY FOR BEING AN IDIOT.

This response ended up being way longer than intended but I hope this show how much messages like these matter to me. Thank you again for reading and I hope my future fics don't disappoint you!

#taylor talks #more like taylor cries #this was so much fun and i am so glad i got to gush about my current faves #dieter bravo #max phillips #ezra prospect #javier peña #miguel o'hara fanfic

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demonsfate · 1 year

Note

// hey hey thoughts on Jun's trailer?

I KNEW IT WAS GONNA COME OUT TODAY YES. Okay. Lemme just spill all the thoughts I have at initial watch. Maybe I'll rewatch it again later and notice new things. But this is what I noticed right now.

Here eyes do look a little "baggier" underneath, which does make her older than when we first saw her in the TGA trailer.

She is first seen fighting Jin in the trailer. Which makes me wonder 2 things. One) if fans are right and she's gonna "knock some sense into him." Thooooough. I don't really see why that would happen? Given that Jin hadn't really been a "Bad Guy" who needs sense knocked into him since TK6. As even in TK7, it looks like he's going on the right path, anyway. (andwellyouknowimhupingjinscharacterizationfromtk6getsalittleretconnedcoughcough) Especially I don't really care for the idea that a character can go from being a Ruthless Warmonger who treated everyone with no compassion to a Good Guy who deeply cares about saving even a single life because he met his mommy...? Like that's such a weak excuse to why he'd "turn around" anyway as fans are now theorizing. (But as I've stated multiple times on this blog - Jin's transition to a Bad Guy never made much sense and was also just full of flimsy excuses. So his transition back to being a Good Guy also doesn't make much sense unless they come up with something good. And this just wouldn't be... Good enough. And I was hoping that you know, TK8 will give us a bit better character / story writing - esp for Jin - since other than characters that have been turned into complete jokes or pushed to the side, he's been getting it hardest.

ANYWAY - Unless this is like in TK4 where she has to knock sense into Jin to not kill Kazuya. But given that the very first trailer looks like the Final Battle, and Jin is still stuck in the "we should've never existed" mindset. That's probably not it, either. Most likely she's probably just training with him to prepare him for the Final Battle. Or you know, just a trailer and nothing more.

Although she's almost always moving. Her stance DOES look like her Tag 2 stance, and she looks like she plays like her Tag 2 counterpart. Whiiich makes me happy. Given I actually preferred how Jun played in Tag 2 versus how she and Asuka plays in the main games. However I do notice something else...

She appears to bounce Jin with a spike of light here????? Which looks just like how UNKNOWN bounced the opponent with a gooey dark spike. So this makes me wonder if she's also gonna play like Unknown as well??? Which is very interesting. Given that Unknown is in a noncanon game. And that also means that the Kazamas may be even possess more power than we thought. Which could also explain why she needs to train Jin further and show him the power of Kazama style? As well as why she could've been possibly missing for so long? Maybe she's been honing such powers all this time? Either way, I'm very curious as to where this will lead.

AAAND, this may also prove my theory wrong? That this is INDEED the real Jun. But I just - ughhh. Kazuya doesn't really seem to emote anything here? He's just his Typical Self. "So It's You" Self. Like I'm REEEEEALLY hoping TK8 will delve into their relationship further. Because so far, every time Kazuya has canonically spoken of Jun - as I said - it's vague and with little emotion. Which is odd. Given they have a child together. (But maybe it really WAS a one night stand LOL.)

Also everyone being like "CLEANSE THE WORLD OF EVIL AND CORRUPTION?! SHE'S GOING TOO EXTREME, THIS MIGHT NOT EVEN BE THE REAL JUN?!

See? She still cares about Kaz lmao. It's as I said - she just wants to get rid of the devil gene. But as said... surely they're gonna delve into their relationship. Surely.

#teslagravity #✏️ - ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴏsᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ // (ooc)#✏️ - ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴅᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ? // (inbox)

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enhaheeseung · 1 year

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or maybe i'm just getting carried away 😂 idek if i can handle writing on top of my 2 jobs and making fanart, esp if i somehow manage to build an audience.

not that that's required! it'd just be nice to interact with people about smut and kinks and stuff outside of anon asks 🤷‍♀️

anyway, sorry for dumping this on you! (though i'd honestly still like to know about starting a fic blog... just in case)

- 🐋

So I’ll tell you how I started first and then I’ll throw in a few tips (but I’m definitely not who you should be asking about this lol)

When I first started I had no idea what I was even doing I didn’t know how to put links I didn’t know about proper warnings or how to add tags and images so I basically started from scratch with no knowledge

Which was highly frustrating at first but when my first fic reached 100 notes all of it seemed worth it

So I used that as motivation to continue writing fics and I slowly starting building an audience however just cause i got followers doesn’t mean my writing got better if anything it kinda got worse but I didn’t ponder on it any longer cause I knew I was capable of writing better than that

That being said it’s basically trial and error so don’t get discouraged when some works get more notes than the others sometimes it’s just cause it doesn’t show up in the tags (for whatever reason)

Bestie an audience is definitely a requirement (for me) I literally almost deactivated because of the lack of interaction I had cause basically if no one is reading what I post there was no point to even create a account and post it

As of late my notes and followers have decreased like crazy which is very discouraging to me and I haven’t had motivation to write for a long time and it’s hard to look past and keep writing but I’m trying

I know I’m getting ahead of myself when I say that seeings how you haven’t even started yet but I just want you to know some of the things that can happen after you start posting.

At first I thought it was fun just posting story’s for your bias and interacting with people however it’s not that cut and dry.

You might possibly have droughts where you don’t know what to write or how to write it which is was also very discouraging for me

In the beginning I didn’t realize how much effort you really had to put into writing even if it is something as unserious as smut is you still have to do research

Since I’ve been writing I’ve searched all kinds of things such as mental illness pregnancy sex positions you name it

So if you have an idea for a fic it’s not as easy to write it down on paper as it is to imagine it sometimes the wording is the hardest part of writing

Another big problem I faced was when I would read others work and compare myself to them wondering how they were getting so many likes and had so many followers yet I didn’t

That was just me being stupid though cause not everything I write is for everyone and look at me now 2300 followers and multiple fics with 1000+ notes

Not sure if I’m the only one who experienced this but it did effect my mental health in a way I was constantly trying to think of plots and I’d bang out 10k words in a day without rest and after awhile that had taken a toll on me especially with working and barely sleeping

And of course if any of this ever happens and you get discouraged you could always quit writing (I should have but I’m way too hard headed for that) but if something is causing you more harm than good I’d say drop it

I know I said way more than I should have but I’d just like to give you a little idea of how I started my journey

So now for a few tips I’d suggest starting with shorter fics to get comfortable with people seeing your content

Oh that’s another thing I was (and still am nervous about people seeing what my mind conjures up lol) but everyone that I’ve encountered has always been nice except a few hateful anons every now and then which I think every writer has atleast three hate anons so don’t sweat it

Second I’d find a plot that’s easier to write about that you don’t have to do so much research on to make it a better first experience for your first post

I’d find something that’s unique to you as well rather that be a nickname or saying.

So for me at the end of my post I’ll say have a good day / night and that quickly caught on with my followers as well something else was every time I changed my theme I’d change my heart color emoji so if I used blue my followers would use blue and if I used brown they would use brown etc so I think that’s a cute way to interact and have your own unique little signature

Before any of this though make sure you have a good understanding on how the app works (which I’m sure you do cause you post fanart) just learn as much as possible before posting it’s not like it’s the end of the world if you make a mistake but it’s a lot better knowing how to avoid those mistakes (also look at the structure of other blogs that helped me a lot)

So now I’ll break it down to some key points that I’ve covered throughout this post and things that I think a lot of us writer’s experience at some point

1 learn as much as you can before posting so you don’t hit a sang along the way and get caught up

2 don’t get discouraged if all your works do not do good everytime you post cause we’ve all been there no matter how many followers you have

3 don’t let numbers get to you they will come eventually just don’t give up

4 don’t compare yourself to other writers you’re good enough in your own way

5 do your research

6 you get a few haters but that’s just life

7 make something unique for your blog something that people will remember you by

8 be careful and don’t think too much while writing it’s supposed to be fun and if you ever don’t enjoy it take a break/ stop

9 if your first fic isn’t good don’t worry you get better with time and I’m living proof of that (let’s not mention my first fics lol)

10 if you have a plot but you’re not sure about it just post it it’s normal to feel nervous but just know most of the time it’ll be received well

I know I sound like a hypocrite cause I still even face some of these problems now but I just wanted to give you insight of what can happen along the way and that there’s more to fic writing than meets the eye

However this is just speaking from my personal experience you may never run into have of these problems but still

Anyways I hope I’ve helped in some way and I’m not just rambling on and on

And don’t apologize bestie there’s no need I love helping people if you have anymore questions feel free to ask🤍

One more thing I hope this didn’t scare you away from writing cause like I said this is just my personal experience

#ask #inbox #replies #🐋anon

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feuqueerfire · 1 year

Text

Bad Buddy Rewatch Blogging

Gonna do a rewatch of my favourite BL hoho It won’t be like the regular live blogging cuz I don’t wanna record every thought (I have so many + I remember generally what happens in what ep cuz I’d watched it so many times) but just general ep thoughts, fave scenes etc.

Trickster Pran With Plans and Lies

1-4: Come up with way to get Wai to apologize and get Engineering to back off

1-4: tricks Pat into adding him on LINE first

2-1: The bus station is a truce~~ story

4-1: bus stop building but make it a competition

Ep 6: makes up a sob story about his first love and gets his friends drunk to stop them from beating up Pat

12-3: “A guy with dimples told me to pretend” - it was Pran’s idea to trick everyone bout the high school reunion

Because of this, I think Pran was also the one who came up with the scheme of hiding their relationship from everybody except InkPa, Korn, and Wai

General Thoughts

Ep 1 (Dec 4)

a generally meh first ep where it has intriguing characters and connections but just tooo much fighting

still don’t like how they treat Pa

Fave Scene: 1-4 where we get a P’Aof cameo + they’re sitting on the stairs and have a teasing chat

Ep 2

I’ve watched so many more Thai shows since I originally watched it and also started paying attention to Thai linguistics, so it’s fun to get things I didn’t before. When Pa tells Pat “What a prince!” she uses the word Khun Chai and now I understand Pat using -khab in kopunkhab and that indicating male instinctively rather than only knowing it bc of a reddit post explanation + the ‘jeeb’/flirt/dumpling pun

Pat’s friends heckling in front of Pran’s door, especially thinking it’s a girl, continues to be horrific

Dunk is Pat’s high school friend

Fave Scene: Pran realizing Pat is the guy next door on the rooftop, their little restaurant convo

Ep 3

the first episode where we really, really get to see just how much Pat’s willing to do for Pran (helping him present his idea, the bus design roleplay, keeping the guitar for him)

Fave Scene: last scene where Pat says “I like your face... when you lose!” and Pran has the most love-stricken expression full of longing on his face

Ep 4 (Dec 5)

The tragectory of this show is interesting cuz the first ep is intriguind but average, ep 2 and 3 are better and then ep 4 comes in and is just so fucking incredible

I could write 3 essays on everything I love about the sleepover scene, from the characterization, the way it’s shot, the conversations, the acting choices, gosh, such a beautiful incredible scene

Fave Scene: of course the ending sleepover scene is unbeatable. though pat’s “hiya. i know you wanna let me innnn” through the doorhole after pran kicks him out in pt 1 is cute as hell. Part 3 when Pran joins Pat and Pran at the restaurant and he has glassy eyes the entire time. Part 3 when Pran cleans Pat’s face. Part 4 Pran and Ink’s convo on the bench and also I think it’s hilarious that Ink doesn’t know which should Pran hurt

Ep 4 (Dec 5/6)

Part 4 is just so incredible both downstairs and on the roof. The character motivations and actions, the acting, the narrative progression, the conversations, the music, the filming, everything is just so fucking good

Fave: is there anything more iconic than Ep 5 - 4? Fight on the ground and rooftop scene. But also love Pat’s “boo!” in part 1

Ep 6 (Dec 6)

During my first rewatch, this was just a meh episode (esp after coming from ep 5) but I wonder how I’ll feel about it now - esp after seeing so many Thai BLs with the beach episode

I think I liked it more rewatching it this time because I already have knowledge about what happens with Pat and Pran in my head whereas when I first watched it I was like aghh give me more happy PatPran not distant T.T

The random partners thing is so middle/high school lol like when they become partners for the games at the beginning and then when they get assigned rooms, they keep looking at each other hoping to be partners and then are like :< when they’re not

Fave Scene: Don’t have any, though the after credit finger licking scene is iconic. Pat just tryna bother the Architecture people is funny too

Ep 7 (Dec 6)

My fave episode !!! Let’s see if it holds up

I wish I could find what exactly Pat said in Thai when he was sending that pic of his car to Pran. Pran called him Hia when texting back though lol

the start of Ink/Pa as well

Fave Scene: the entirety of it fr but maybe especially the last scene when they’re just kissing each other and trying to get the other to open the door

Ep 8 (Dec 7)

Did Pa say kha or khab during 8-1 when speaking with Pat and Pran in the hall and 8-2 when speaking with Ink at the restaurant

Fave Scene: just the ways they compromise and are there for each other ig

Ep 9 (Dec 7/8)

here we go with ep 9 rip, prlly gonna be the ep where i skip a bunch

i remember reading about Korn calling Pat Nong when teasing about making Pran jealous all “nong pat~~” and I didn’t get it back then bc I didn’t really understand why that was cute or funny but now I get it even though I can’t explain why Korn using Nong when Pat’s not his Nong funny

this ep really is like awww cute cute cute PatPran and some InkPa and then here comes fuckass Wai and the dumbass gun plot and useless bastard cops

this is the ep where i skipped the most

Fave Scene: them eating lunch together on the bench so cute. PatPran and Ink, Pa hotpot dinner fun cute. Pa jumping down and saying “anybody taller than me is fine”

Ep 10 (Dec 8)

oof, the beginning was so hopeful with the dad saying thanks to Pran for helping Pat before it all went to shit

the bar is on the floor but I do continue to enjoy how Pat didn’t “forbid” Wai from tryna pursue his sister because he feels some sort of ownership over her or due to his protectiveness (esp would’ve been weird when he’s going through disapproving parents) and also Wai also letting it go when he realized Pa likes someone else and they might become a thing and he doesn’t have much of a chance. shows will often have male characters (attempt to) control a female character’s love life as if they understand what’s good or bad for them better than the FMC herself does.

Pa getting teary eyed and so sad when talking with Ink and how Ink only sees her as a mentee T.T so cute

girl when I first watched the show I was like damn why’s Pat obsessed with being Pran’s older brother but Hia/Phi aren’t necessarily like that and he was also having fun calling Pran as Nong Pran

Ep 11 (Dec 8)

this ep is important narratively and does a lot for the characterization and relationship growth but is still boring to me

Ep 12 (Dec 8)

Parts 3 and 4 so good omg (even though Parts 1 and 2 don’t have much rewatch value for me tbh) honestly the whole time i was losing my mind and going ewwww they’re so annoyinggg as if i haven’t watched it already several times

One of the best things about the rewatch is truly just coming at it with the knowledge of Thai particle endings, titles and honorifics, and more of a cultural knowledge.

Also can’t believe I rewatched so much of the show, usually I rewatch only parts I love. I only skipped ep 9 gunshot storyline, ep 11 some parts that were boring, ep 12 first half; watched nearly all other scenes.

I think my fave series of eps is Ep 4 - 8, just so good.

Continues to be my favourite BL of the year, hope something comes along next year that takes over my brain just as much to be honest.

Rating: 9/10 (unchanged)

#bad buddy #ep by ep commentary

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zukka-pegged-by-suki · 3 years

Text

ok so guys, remember that “my father always says azula was born lucky, i was lucky to be born” line? yeah, now explain to me why tf are we even considering OZAIs words?!?! like some people use this line as an argument against azula when its literally what OZAI SAID?!?!!?!!?!

Zuko’s good and bad luck, as well as Azulas. Was either of them lucky? Let’s see.

Please read all of it before drawing assumptions.

Zuko’s luck:

- has mums care and affection

- has irohs care and affection

- can get away with being a softie as a child, because he may get disregarded and called weak but lets be honest, azula wouldnt have been able to get away with his behavior because she didn’t have firstborn privilege (which is a thing while azulon lived) or mummy’s protection like he did.

before anyone comes at me i’ll expand a bit on the firstborn privilege. as first born he was instantly considered more important by the masses since birth, that might’ve changed later but before neither could bend that much was still a fact. which means azula wouldn’t really have any recognition for anything unless she surpassed him in every way, which is what became her goal especially when ozai became the one who spent more time with her rather than ursa, anyways lets continue.

- constantly receiving second chances; iroh, the gaang minus katara, katara, azula (even if not from the “good” side), ozai (no matter the intentions, this much is true), iroh again, mai, the entire fckng world.

- he had a guide and help throughout his long healing and learning process.

Zuko’s bad luck:

- Unloving father

- Mummy disappears

- Doesn’t train that hard and surprise surprise, is worse than azula. Because if he had really trained hard, he would’ve at least known the formations wether he was able to firebend with them or not, but he was just clearly trying to copycat azula while tripping over because he didn’t have that much experience doing it. This is something no one can change my mind about. How tf did he expect to excel if he didn’t train enough. This wasnt about luck but hard work which he didn’t put in, too busy playing with mum and the little turtleducks. And I do not hate Zuko, I really love him but this is just a fact and he’s too fixed on blaming everyone else for his own mistakes and problems (esp Azula). Like, im sorry to break it out to you honey, but Ozai hates you because he’s an asshole, and that’s his own fault, not Azula’s.

- Scar and exile time, we all know this.

- Ugly haircut because of dishonor

- Finally achieving his goal of regaining his “honor” but realizing it wasn’t what he wanted only when he was already at the Fire Nation palace having all the glory from Aang’s presumed death.

- Katara’s distrust after his betrayal (bc who would’ve expected that to happen /s)

- Getting zapped in an attempt to save Katara.

I mean except for the things related to Ozai, most of this was all consequences from his own actions.

And I’m sorry but I don’t understand the fixation he has with having Ozai’s love. Unlike Azula, he has had his mother’s love and his uncle’s love. He knows what real love looks like and he has never really seen anything that could imply Ozai likes him, while he has Iroh treating him like he’s his actual father.

I’m not invalidating his traumas in any way and terrible things did happen to him, but why is he so obsessed with Ozai and why would he choose him over Iroh, he’s 16 and has been with Iroh since age 13, he was also with Ursa for the majority of his childhood, make it make sense.

Azula’s luck:

- Uh she was born rlly smart i guess

- She had some natural talent and knew to train hard to shape it to perfection, as well as studying a lot about war tactics and shit ig

- Ty Lee and Mai loved her and she loved them back

I mean as far as luck goes, that’s it. Everything else was achieved on her own merit and even if she had no scar, her traumas are just as valid as Zuko’s, neither is worse or better, we do not compare traumas in this house and they were both terrible.

Azula’s bad luck:

- Bad mother (i’ll make a post on why Ursa sucks)

- No second chances

- Mum never said goodbye just like she never said “i love you” lol, except in that one hallucination

- Never has had any real help to heal (i’ll make a post on why the asylum was a trash idea that would’ve never worked)

- Can’t fully trust anyone, not even herself, or will be punished for it

- The only people who loved her, Mai and Ty Lee, “betraying” her (check out my post on that, its under #jinta’s commentary)

- Ozai psychologically abusing her all her life

- Some characters may have been lonely, but she was genuinely absolutely alone. And she knew it.

- Hurt and self-hatred channeled through anger like Zuko did sometimes when he had that shame shave ponytail, but with her, its all the time.

- Even his abuser abandons her

- Everyone hates her but forgives Zuko, Mai and Ty Lee. And it’s so annoying because all Mailee did that Azula didn’t was swap sides almost at the end, if the excuse is that they were being manipulated well Ozai was manipulating Azula so what’s the excuse.

- Is always believed to be lying but usually isn’t (check out my azula always lies post)

- Has a mental breakdown and nobody gives a shit?! Like the first think Zuko thought of was “ooh she’s slipping lemme take advantage of that”

- Has nothing and no one, yay

- Gets thrown into a stupid asylum but not rlly because there are no comics in ba sing se

While Zuko had Ursa and Iroh to protect him and stuff, she was victim of Ozai’s manipulation and psychological abuse all her life.

So when we know Ozai said she was lucky, why tf is anyone taking his word for it??!

Plus when Zuko was born they didn’t know how he would be and Azula didn’t exist so there was no way he could’ve been lucky to be born.

Zuko was very unlucky, but he was also lucky.

Azula was just unlucky.

edit: as bellatrixobsessed1 said, azula had the illusion of luck.

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barzzal · 3 years

Text

when the ball drops

summary: out of all the times you wanted to bail, for once you were certainly glad you didn’t ditch this year’s new year’s eve party.

↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you

↳ warnings: language, parties, drinking, flirty banters + a smitten mat (set in a pandemic free au)

↳ genre: fluff, meeting a total stranger, early 2000’s romantic/comedy typa thing (what i think at least)

↳ length: imagine; 5.9k

↳ masterlist: the barn

note: this is an entry for @hockeynetwork’s winter fic exchange and i was matched as @bqstqnbruin’s secret santa! i genuinely hope you get to enjoy this, boo!! i wanna thank a few mutuals, @tkachukme @calgarycanuck @pizzarandomness (esp @thirteenisles !!) for helping me out so i could get thru with writing this imagine! you guys are so nice i truly appreciate all of you. happy holidays & happy new year, everyone! 💕 (gif used: mine)

Every year you swear to yourself that you would spend the New Year’s at home, eating a peaceful dinner by yourself and maybe enjoy a good bottle of wine whilst you spend the whole night watching The Holiday. But just like all the other years you have spent alone since you’ve moved to New York, you end up breaking that same promise, pretty much with the help of your two best friends Emma and Katie.

Now, instead of being curled up in your living room, wearing your favourite knitted sweater and away from all the New Year chaos happening all at once in the very best place to celebrate such a festive occasion, here you are, getting your second glass of vodka tonic as you wait for the goddamn ball to drop.

The local bar has always been crowded especially during this time of the year. You and your friends already made it an annual thing which is probably the reason why despite the yearning you have for the idea of spending it all alone, you couldn’t find enough courage to ditch them and disappear even just for one night.

“Where are the girls?” Gavin, the owner of the bar whom you’ve already befriended due to the amount of times you and the girls spent helping him close up was busily wiping the counter when you sat in your usual seat.

You casually motioned your hand to where you left Emma and Katie, dancing with men they’d most certainly end up kissing once the clock strikes twelve.

“Alone again? You’ve got to blow off some steam, y/n.” He greets you with a concerned look exuding from his virile exterior. You idly shake your head, giving him a tight smile to reassure him that you were doing okay.

“It’s not that big a deal.” is the usual thing you say to people when your being ‘alone’ on the holidays becomes in question. “Besides, I’m a big girl, Gavs.” You proudly announce, leaning against the bar with your palm resting underneath your chin.

“I know you’re a ‘big girl’.” He rolls his eyes before his gaze trails off to your friends and then landing onto a couple of young lads from across the room. “I’m just saying, loosen up. Meet people. It feels nice to have someone holding you close at night so don’t be too hard on yourself.”

A snort bursts from you as soon as you hear the words leave Gavin’s mouth. Who would have known a guy as tough-looking as him would be too much of a softy underneath?

“What?” He holds his guard as he continues making your drink. The liquid swirling around a few ice cubes and a shot of liquor.

“Nothing, nothing. I just– I didn’t think you were one of those people.” You say, clearing your voice once you’ve finally gathered yourself. “You know, the sappy romantics.”

Gavin looks at you, giving you an ‘Oh, please.’ look. “No, ‘cause that’s where you’re wrong.” He protests. “I’ve always been this soft, “sappy romantic” kinda guy. You just choose to see me the way you see me; a typical macho man who hands you good drinks.” He pauses, finishing off with the last touches of your drink. “But you know what? That’s fine. ‘Cause that’s how I know you’re just like me.” He then slides the cold drink towards you.

“What do you mean?” You were intrigued to be fair. You already had your head tilted to the side trying to piece something that could justify what he just said.

“That.” He looks at you, index finger circling before your eyes to make his argument even more compelling. “You act like a strong independent woman, which by the way you still are,– but you have to admit that you do want someone who’s gonna want to spend his New Year’s watching that dumb old movie of yours.” He says with a grin before he pours another customer a shot of tequila.

You were sure you wanted to just shrug it off, but somehow, you can’t help but think of how his words hit you in the subtlest way. Each word bearing an insane amount of possibilities of him being right all along.

But what’d he know anyway? It’s not like he knew you better than anyone else. Maybe it’s just his way with words. Or maybe he’s just that good. After all, that’s basically the reason why he’s running a goddamn bar, right?

𖥸

It wasn’t Mat’s first time spending New Year’s away from his family but if he only had a choice, he’d certainly take the next plane with no question. However, given how the team’s fight for the Cup is going stronger than the last season, he couldn’t bring himself to risk going away and missing out on his usual routines. So, for the past couple of weeks he’d let himself be stuck with Beauvillier throughout the holidays.

Now, for the sake of festivities, the two decided it’d be best to come out to the city and have fun welcoming the New Year along with some good friends that were surprisingly available at the last minute. That being said, the local bar was already the third one they’ve gone to having started the drinking binge earlier than intended.

“Happy New Fucking Year, Motherfuckers!” The loudest and perhaps, the drunkest man cheered at the center of the dance floor, holding up his drink carelessly as he danced to the mind numbing EDM coming off from the DJ’s booth.

“Way to get wasted. Am I right?” Dan says as he stands to gather everyone and clink their beer mugs for the nth time.

“Somebody’s definitely gonna miss the ball drop.” Tito snides, referring to the drunken man cheering tirelessly. Mat shakes his head and idly laughs. Their glasses meet halfway, causing some of the beer to spill over the table. The loud music and cheers echoed in Mathew’s ears, finding the whole scene a little too overwhelming despite how he liked to loosen up with bottomless drinks coming his way.

Somehow, he was thankful that he needed a second to breathe which only meant having to take his eyes off of the same guys he hangs with on and off the ice. Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have been able to see someone so beautiful yet seemingly out of place when his gaze landed onto that one girl sitting by the bar all by herself at what seems to be the loudest pub in the city.

“God, she’s pretty.” The words unknowingly slip off his tongue, making him realize he’s announced his thoughts out for the group just enough to make their brows quirk at the now out-of-reach Mathew.

“What?” Anthony leans closer to him so as to give himself a view of what Mat had his eyes peeled for.

“That girl by the bar, she’s— she’s really pretty.” Mathew says, completely sure that he has never said anything true in his life. Much to his surprise, the boys gathered around and turned their heads towards the girl sitting by the bar.

“So? Go and talk to her, man.” Anthony casually proposes with a nudge, urging him to go after her.

Mathew immediately lets out a foolish scoff and chooses to gulp a large amount of liquor from his mug.

“Yeah, just go for it. What’s the worst thing that could happen?” Tyson chides, looking at the girl who has utterly made their night a little more interesting. That being said, being stuck with the three biggest blokes wasn’t that too interesting to begin with.

“Oh, worst thing? She could hear me!” Mat runs a hand through his hair, incapable of taking his eyes off of her even just for a second.

“You know if you don’t, I will.” Tyson puts his beer down and acts as if to make the move Mathew was too hesitant to do himself in order to boost his mate.

“Fuck off. Fine. Hold my beer.” Mat rolls his eyes and shoves Tyson his mug before gathering himself by straightening creases off his suit along with a few sharp breaths to ease out the nervousness he’d been feeling.

You watch the teeny tiny leaf of mint swirl around the whirl of liquor you’ve successfully made, ignoring all the background noise, still evidently fixated on the words Gavin has left you with earlier. Has it really been that long since you allowed yourself to be fully vulnerable around someone?

A sad smile escapes your lips, one that made the man that was now towering all over you wonder what could have possibly caused such melancholy on the most beautiful girl he has seen all throughout the city. That’s a rather heavy way to put it but that doesn't mean he was lying. He did find you really pretty. Maybe even a little too much and too out of his league.

A tap on your shoulder pulls you from your thoughts.

“Hi.” He says, gray eyes illuminated by the strobe lights hitting your direction. You give him a tight smile, acknowledging his presence and frankly even the boldness he had to strike up a conversation.

“I just wanted to ask if what you’re drinking is any good.” Mat subconsciously reprimands himself for coming up with what is yet to be the lamest thing he’s ever told a girl.

Great. Now, you’re asking her if a vodka tonic is good? As if it could get any better? He thinks to himself. So, to compensate and reduce further damage, he plays it off by laughing quite sheepishly as he absent-mindedly massages his nape.

Noticing what the man was doing, you let out a shy laugh too, biting your lower lip as you find his foolish attempt of hitting on you quite adorable.

“Wow. You’re really good at this.” You tease, now giving away a playful smile, poking at his middle school pick up line.

Mathew chuckles. His doe eyes shy and alienated by the confidence he certainly knew he had not until a few seconds ago when he met yours. “I swear I’m better than this.” He tries again, this time earning himself a soft giggle from you.

Atta boy, Mat.

“I’m Mat by the way. Mathew Barzal.”

He reaches out his hand which you gladly took. It was calloused and rough around the edges whilst Mat found yours completely fitting in his. Your eyes meet halfway as you both shook each other’s hands. Fingers lingering quite longer than it should be.

“Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N.”

“So, you’re telling me you haven’t had a tonic before?” You ask him, hands now all to yourselves. Mat leans against the bar, his elbow resting on the counter, unable to suppress the embarrassment now dawning on him upon remembering his little set back.

“I’m sort of a vodka tonic connoisseur.” He kids in an attempt to redeem himself. “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

You look at him, shaking your head at how unbelievably gorgeous this man is. “Fine. It wasn’t. I’ll give you that.”

“So,” He takes a deep breath before taking one of the empty seats beside you. “I– I can’t help but wonder, I mean– if it’s not too forward of me, how come you’re drinking alone on New Year’s?”

You take a sip off of your drink and faintly shake your head, dismissing his query. “Hmm. Actually, no.”

Mathew muttered an “oh.” at the thought of hearing what he thinks you’re about to say next. To his surprise, and frankly feeling as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, you motion towards your best girls, Emma and Katie who were now obviously way too fond of the guys they just met.

“See those girls?”

Mathew nods, the answer to his question now becoming much clearer and put together. An answer that absolutely went along with his cards well.

“Those are two of the most important persons in my life going at it at a New Year’s Eve Party.”

“Would it be wrong to ask why aren’t you ‘going at it’ like how they’re doing it now?”

Is he always this formal? You think, lips curving to a grin.

“What?” He asks when he sees the expression (he can’t quite put a finger on) on your face.

“Nah. I’m all good. I mean, not that I don’t want to. I just–” You pause. Unsure of whether telling him the truth would do your case any better. What’s there to lose anyway? He’s just some guy you’re bound to meet at the bar. It’s not like you didn’t anticipate a scenario like this from happening, right?

“Just take me as someone who isn’t really fond of big parties,” he then cuts you off and finishes your sentence, “But still go anyways.”

“Exactly.”

Gavin pops in for a bit, handing Mathew a bottle of beer he was certain of not ordering. He looks at him puzzled. A silent question that Gavin answered with a wink before getting back to tending to his alcohol induced customers.

Apparently, it’s on the house.

“How come you’re here chatting with me when your friends are all the way there?” You motion towards a curly haired man and the other boys across the room. One was even smiling at you but you just opted on giving him a nod before turning your head back towards Mathew.

“Well, I didn’t like the idea of having you celebrate the New Year’s alone.” He honestly says. But since you were the kind of person who wasn’t the best at taking any type of compliment nor flirty exchanges like a normal person would, you roll your eyes and be the blunt person you were always known for. “Oh. I thought you saw a girl sitting alone at the bar and saw that as an opening.”

To be fair, Mat wasn’t really intimidated by your remark. In fact, he actually liked how straight forward you were with him. You didn’t look at him the way he’s gotten used to whenever he comes up and introduces himself to other girls; something that only made him more interested in you. He can’t help but want to know what exactly is going on in your mind. Not the creepy kind, of course. Just the one where he’d rather spend the New Year’s getting to know a total stranger than getting insanely pissed with the same men he’s spent most of his days with.

“That too.” He admits, taking a sip off his beer without breaking his eyes off you.

There was a sheer silence for a moment. The kind that Mat knew was much deafening than the booming sound of the usual dreadful New Year’s Eve Party. “So tell me,” Mat regains himself, catching your attention once again. “What would you rather be doing tonight? You know, if you hadn’t had to come out here.”

He watches your lips quirk thinking about what it was that you actually wanted to do tonight. Then again, you only had one thing in mind.

“I kinda wanted to spend it alone for the past three years.”

“That long? How come?”

“Well, you know, for some peace and quiet. Maybe watch a movie or two.”

Like what he has been doing since the moment he’d gone to talk to you, he watches you run your fingers around the rim of your cold drink. Evidently immersed in your own thoughts from trying to piece out the real reason behind your grave wanting to spend the occasion alone.

Turning the tables, you ask the same question back, “What about you? I mean, other than getting shit faced, what would you rather be doing?”

Mathew takes a deep breath trying to suppress the longing he’s felt for the past few weeks. He just misses his family so much that he couldn’t help but wonder how they’re doing even if he’s constantly kept in touch with them hours before he’d gone out with the boys.

“I’ll be with my folks. You know, all that usual family stuff.” He answers you shortly.

You didn’t think much of what he’s told you so you just tell him the very thing that crossed your mind. “You know, it’s amazing how two people who didn’t even want to be here find each other just so they could bitch about not wanting to be here a little bit more.”

The two of you share a good laugh, utterly and undeniably enjoying each other’s company. It didn’t feel weird having to talk to a total stranger, let alone let them have bits and pieces of yourself that only enables them to put together an image of you that isn’t even as close to who you really are. Regardless of that notion, there was something about how Mathew connected with you, and how you connected with him.

It was far from being the movie type of thing, but you have to admit, the remainder of the time you two have spent talking over a half empty bottle of beer and a glass of vodka tonic has definitely made the two of you feel this unexplainable wanting of having to learn more about each other. That being said, when all drinks were drunk till its last drop, Mathew couldn’t help himself from wanting to spend a bit more time with you. Maybe, even the whole night if you’d only let him.

“D’you want to get out of here?” He shoots his shot as quickly as he could, afraid that losing even just a second would mean losing a night of spontaneity with you.

You have long waited for a reason to miss the annual party. And if that meant having to wait three years just so you could stumble upon a tall and fairly handsome man that was going to save you from a dreadful evening, nothing would’ve felt as right as this if it weren’t for the push Mat had stored in his piercing eyes and mischievous grin.

You didn’t have to give it much thought. After spending a whole hour exchanging little trivias of yourselves, Mat finally had it easy in making a riveting case. You sigh in defeat as you fish out a few cash from your purse and slide it into your tab.

Excitement now exuding from Mathew, he bobs his brows up and down whilst he watches you roll your eyes once again for the hundredth time tonight. “I’m gonna hate you for this.” You tell him as you get off the bar stool.

Mat hurriedly signals Tito for his coat to which he was able to catch the moment he had tossed it towards his way. He then gets yours that was placed on the back of your seat before finally following you out towards the door.

“I highly doubt that.”

𖥸

Mathew draped your coat over your shoulders, helping you to slip into it. You politely say your thanks and hold your purse close, your gloves gripping onto the leather as the two of you stroll the streets of New York, the winter breeze brushing on your cheeks with every stride you make.

“So,” You begin, putting both of your hands inside your coat pockets. “Where are you taking me, Mat?”

He tries to think for a second. The thought of not having a concrete plan for the night finally dawns on him. He clicks his tongue and breathes in the familiar scent of the city. Mathew looks around the block and spots the good old food truck he and the boys once tried when they were out for an away game with the Rangers.

“How about New York’s finest burrito?” He points to where the truck was parked, clueless to how his sudden movement placed him inches closer to you. You didn’t notice it until you looked at him for his eyes were still pinned to where the truck was at.

Mat’s eyes were pretty. That’s a known fact. But what you didn’t realize was how astonishing they are not until you got this close. You took in the sight sitting before you as fast as you could while he was still preoccupied like a five-year-old kid seeing an ice-cream truck pass by the neighborhood. Your eyes linger from his well structured brows, his unbelievably long lashes, down to the tip of his nose and his rosy cheeks before finally settling down to his cherry plump lips. All of which were more than enough to send butterflies in your stomach.

“O-Okay.” You agree. Mathew takes you by the hand before you can even say a word. Thank the gods for letting you live in a city that seems to never stop the hustle to still have open food trucks good for a quick bite at this time of the night close into New Year’s.

“Hey, bud. Two sixes to go, please.” Mathew says politely once he knocks on the window.

“You’ve got to try this, I swear.” He looks back at you with the same warm smile beaming on his face.

“Unless you want a proper meal? I mean, there’s a diner down the–” You immediately cut him off and take out your purse, offering to pay for it instead. “No! It’s fine, really. I’m a bit hungry myself.”

After spending the whole time waiting for the wrapped snack, arguing on who would be paying, you let Mathew have this one for now even if you didn’t like others paying for what you can pay yourself.

You take a good look at your watch and see that you only have about an hour left till midnight. An idea pops in your head, making you gasp at the thought. Mathew looks at you with a half-eaten burrito in his hand, his brows all furrowed as if to ask a piece of your mind.

“Come on, I know where we should go.”

𖥸

Mathew never thought he’d found himself standing on a rooftop of a random building overlooking the Empire State during one of the coldest times in the city. The things that has only kept him sane was the girl who was still holding his hand, the city lights that have always left him in awe, and of course, the well heated rooftop.

There have been a few exchanges that are quite notable over the time you’ve spent with Mathew. He’s told you about the usual night outs he and the boys have for leisure, the family he had back in Coquitlam, how much he misses his mom and his sister, and how much love he has for hockey that he ended up doing the thing he loved most for a career.

Him, on the one hand, pretty much learned the same stuff about you. Well, almost, for he has yet to ask you the one thing that has been bugging him off all night.

You were telling him how this was your safe haven in the city and how much you loved going here every time you felt like needing to take a deep breath and step back from the world when he asked you a simple question. One that’s absolutely left you surprised (and a little bit impressed) that he still even remembered it at this point.

“What’s the movie about? You know, the one you’ve been wanting to see tonight.” He asks, both of his hands inside his pockets to keep warm.

The two of you sat on the bench facing thousands of lights illuminating the whole city. You look at him for a second, biting your lip as you contest with yourself, the thought of Mat being the kind of douché that would shit around women and their romantic comedy films comes rushing to you like a cold December breeze.

“Alright, why do you want to know?” You pass the ball back to his court. To which Mat shortly answers with a level-headed sigh. “I kinda get the feeling it has something to do with the three-year thing.”

“You’re nosy.” You kiddingly say, earning a chuckle from him.

“You’ve spent the whole night walking with me and I can barely even feel my legs anymore, y/n. Trust me, between you and me, you know you’re the nosy one.” The two of you share a small laugh, your voices are the only sound that can be heard besides the sleepless city acting as a white noise to you and Mathew’s little bubble.

“Fine. And you’re a fucking athlete, so don’t even start.”

You playfully give him a nudge on the shoulder when he starts mimicking what you say. Mat stops immediately and looks at you with the same doe eyes glinting under the security lights that the rooftop had. He then patiently waits for you to gather your thoughts, breathing in all of New York as he lets himself drown in your presence.

You didn’t know how but there was this unspeakable comfort you feel around Mat. Sure, he was just a total stranger you’ve met a few hours ago, but no one, not even the guy who dumped you after your five-date rule, was able to connect with you at the same level as Mathew did.

“It’s not that I want to see it so bad. I’ve watched it for like– a reasonable amount before it became my comfort movie. Plus, it’s literally called The Holiday. Why wouldn’t you want to see it during the holiday?”

You tell him a bit more of how you’ve come into liking it, stalling him from the real reason why you wanted to celebrate the New Year’s alone. But you know, that even after all the circles you’re willing to go through just to keep Mat at bay, you’re bound to lose all your strings and resort to telling him in the end. You just hope you wouldn’t be making the same mistake you’ve made three years ago.

You told Mathew about your on and off childhood sweetheart Claude who has always kept you high and dry throughout the years of being together. (That is if you were in fact together.) He was the constant reminder that you will never be the kind of person someone would want to stick around with.

You and him go a long way. You both ended up going to the same university because he just had to have you around and that he couldn’t afford not being with you even just for a second. He said that he couldn’t take the thought of having to see you only on the holidays so as the dumb kid you once were, your feet followed his everywhere he’d gone.

That cycle went on and on until you finally had the courage to leave everything behind and move to New York. Months as a new kid in the city, you were scared, of course. You spent your days hanging around your apartment, doing all sorts of crap you can even think of just so you wouldn’t have to leave your flat. Although, meeting Emma and Katie was the biggest push you needed to finally let yourself let loose. Long story short, at the first New Year’s Eve Party you’ve ever gone to after moving in the city, the person you least expected to see was the very first one to come out of Gavin's bar. Claude.

Just like what a normal person would do, the two of you sat down and caught up. Pretty much the same thing you’ve gone with Mathew. Although only a lot less chit chat and a lot more kissing.

Claude told you his real intentions. He said that he wanted to start something with you for real. Of course, you had let him but you have made the biggest mistake of telling him about your five-date rule.

Lo and behold, Claude did stick around for the fifth date. That being said, he had stayed only for the fifth date. You saw him sneaking out of your flat so early in the morning, leaving you nothing but a voicemail that said his foolish reasons and insincere apologies. Since then, after a lot of major hook ups here and there, you’ve never let yourself become as vulnerable and stupid as you once were with the biggest douche you’ve ever met.

“It’s crazy, I know. You can laugh about it.” You say when Mat hasn’t spoken for a few seconds.

He takes a glance at you, a tight smile on his face. “I don’t think it’s crazy. That man is crazy. And also, a big prick. Classic dick move.” He tells you before he turns his eyes back to the city.

“Well, yeah. That’s me. That’s the holiday story.”

“A crappy one, of course.” You add.

Mat shakes his head no. He didn’t know why exactly but all he wanted to do at that moment, a few seconds before New Year’s, was to give you something,– even just a memory you could look back on. That that story isn’t going to be the one you’d be remembering for the next holidays. He wanted his to be something that’ll make your three-year-old crappy story long gone and forgotten. That his version would be the one that’s stuck.

“Definitely not this one.”

As the clock strikes twelve, cheers erupted throughout New York along with fireworks shooting into the city’s midnight sky. The first thing you see upon looking back were the same kind eyes of the man whom you have randomly met at the party you dreaded most. Only this time, drowning you little by little as it becomes iridescent under the thousands of lights covering New York City.

You were frozen to your seat as Mat’s face inch closer to yours. You feel his breath against your cold skin as if it was lulling you to sleep. His hands find its way to your face, cupping both of your cheeks rather gently as he finally paints a new memory you’d be carrying for the rest of your holidays.

“Happy New Year.” He greets you, almost like a faint whisper whilst the two of you gasp for breath. You blink a few times just to process what had just happened and digest how unbelievably good that kiss was.

Mathew’s hands were still on your cheeks. You held them close so he’d know you weren’t ready to let go. You take a deep breath, gathering enough courage to ask him an unusual way of greeting someone a Happy New Year.

“Will you walk me to my car?”

𖥸

You have both of your hands tucked inside your coat pockets as you walked the street leading to where you left your car. Mat was just telling you about the game happening next Thursday against the Bruins and how it would mean a lot to him if you’d come and see him play.

“To be fair, the Bruins are good.” You commented, a playful smirk plastered on your face rather teasingly.

Mathew lets out a snort as he rolls his eyes, chuckling at the thought of you dissing on his team the moment you had the chance. “Hey, both teams are good.”

“It’s just the matter of who’s better.” You finish his sentence, yet again working your way with a clever remark. Mat hums, not necessarily agreeing with your sentiment.

“So will you come?” He asks again just so he could hear you say yes. You take a deep breath, not letting yourself think too much of the said invitation. If you’re going, you’re going as a friend. Actually, you weren’t even sure if you could even call yourself such a label.

You nod your head yes to which had become the reason of Mathew’s glee. The two of you walked side by side in peace, basking in the comfort of each other’s presence.

Once the rush of excitement about you coming to one of his games starts to wear down, Mathew begins to feel the weight of walking befall on him as it grows quicker with each step he takes. With his brows meeting halfway, he looks at you, eyes evident with confusion.

“Where did you park your car exactly? I feel like we’re walking straight to Long Island.” He chortles, scratching his temple quite adorably.

You bit your lower lip as you looked up at him. Mathew’s physique towering over yours. “I uh– I took a cab to the party. My car’s actually parked outside my apartment.” You admit with a shy laugh.

Mat’s mouth went agape upon hearing you confess; awkward silence envelops the two of you with every second spent not talking to one another. Not long after, he decides to break the ice, undeniably impressed at how he’d never seen it coming.

Clever. He thinks, incapable of stopping his gut from swirling. His smile widens when he sees you looking at him; unfazed and perhaps, enamoured.

𖥸

Mat did walk you to your car. The two of you exchange your thank you’s; utterly grateful for what has to be the best New Year’s you had in years.

You wanted to ask him for one last cup of coffee because the last thing you wanted him to do was leave. But after all the things you’ve gone through with the man within such a short amount of time (and frankly, even a tedious walk) you still failed to muster enough courage to stop him from doing so.

Once you see him get in the lone cab that miraculously passed by your neighborhood at such an ungodly hour, you close the door behind and head straight to your flat.

You get home to the sight of your weighted blanket spread over your couch along with a couple of pillows that seems to be the best place to bury yourself in after a tiresome night out. Things were just as they were left hours ago; prepped for a much awaited movie night. As planned, you quickly get out of your winter clothes, head for a quick shower, before finally slipping into some comfortable nightwear.

You were just finishing up putting the bowl of popcorn and a bottle of Chardonnay on top of the coffee table when a buzz coming from the intercom catches your attention.

Once your hands were free, you quickly made your way towards the box, a bit irked at the thought of Katie and Emma ruining your long-overdue New Year agenda upon remembering how she’d told you to let her in the building just in case Katie gets a little too overboard.

“Emma, I’m about to watch Jude Fucking Law. Just come up!” You hurriedly say, turning your head back to the screen which already had the movie on pause.

However, instead of Katie’s whiny and drunken voice, what you heard was the same familiar chuckle that had been cruising your mind all night.

“You know, I don’t think I mentioned that I haven’t watched The Holiday. Is Jude Fucking Law any good?” He asks. A mental image of how his eyes crinkle when he laughs comes to mind upon hearing his voice.

Once again, pretty much like how you’ve spent the whole evening with Mathew, a wide smile lets loose as you press the black button. “Come on up.”

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fic #letters to barzy #barzzal imagines

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clerichs-xi · 2 years

Text

Getting real on main here bc I'm kinda tired of keeping everything in my head so I'm gonna ramble for a bit bc my blog my posts

Starting to realize more and more i don't know how to interact with people and im kinda starting to wonder if im neurodivergent or if im socially anxious

It's not just I don't know how to interact socially it's more like I don't know how to react in social so I end up mimicking what other ppl do in order to not get a negative reaction/keep up the convo in a natural way. I find I do it more online bc I have time to think about what I do+look back on messages and I end up being so paranoid about what I say or how my messages could get construed differently or how people could negatively react. Maybe it's more that I'm extremely prone to overthinking stuff but either way it makes me feel miserable sometimes, like I can't open up ever and most of the time I end up not opening up. I'm afraid of negative reactions and criticism bc I'm so prone to criticizing others myself. Also i grew up having most of my stuff (achievements, work, expressed thoughts) being reacted to with either neutral reactions or criticism on the basis of humility. Whoa that just got deep lol. Anyways after typing all of this out I feel like my issue mostly lies with my fears of being seen in a negative way or being disliked after saying something so I just end up. overthinking every single thing I want to say or not saying anything at all or both. It's wild how afraid I am of receiving any remotely negative feedback bc the moment I do I'll take to heart way too much and beat myself up over it!! Itll all I focus on and then I'll pick apart every single thing I ever did or said and make myself feel even more miserable!! I'm perfectly capable of discerning when something is my fault just. not when im talking to someone.

Tangent but since I'm here rambling already ill talk abt it and also kinda related. I never feel comfortable enough venting abt my life to close friends bc a) I'm seen as the functional one in the group; b) it seems everyone else's problems are bigger than mine and c) I'll feel like I'm complaining for no good reason mostly bc of a). I did have someone in my friend group say "what do u have to complain abt u have a functional family lol" once and that hurt. And that's why I never share anything anymore lol!!! Bc everyone I know says my life is perfect but a lot I wish I weren't me and I feel so trapped. It's gotten better bc I have been in situations b4 where I vented during really bad situations but I still don't rlly. And the fact that I only feel ok with venting in situations/with feelings that, in my mind, constituted as on par with other people's issues or of a certain level severity that was worth sharing and wouldn't face backlash for is. fucked up to say the least I think. Sometimes I think social media has played a role in fostering this idea bc of ppl constantly comparing and trying to 1-up others with their struggles. or ppl usinh catastrophic world events to go to other ppl saying "ur life will never be as bad as that so suck it up"

Uh anyways I think the neurodivergent part mostly bc i get uncomfortable when I'm not doing something and I can't really stand not doing smth. Ive seen some posts of neurodivergent people (esp posts abt adhd/ppl with adhd talking abt it) and kinda find myself relating to stimulation issues to a degree? I hate not doing anything productive eg drawing, writing. Sometimes I can't even stand just watching tv or reading bc sometimes I don't feel involved enough. If I'm interested in a piece of media I'll binge it for a couple of days and then the next day I'll feel nothing at all for it. Like idk maybe I'm thinking too hard and I don't actually know what I'm talking abt but at this rate I'd rather be wrong while try to explore this/put it into words then keep everything to myself just because I'm afraid of getting backlash or whatever from the 3 real people and 20 pornbots that follow me. Chances are this post wont receive any attention like literally anything else I've ever posted except it not getting attention will be what I want haha.

Tldr I'm just tired of trying to please people and bottling stuff up just bc I want ppl to like me and bc I don't want to burden others. I want to open up and have actual social interactions where I'm not overthinking everything I do. And I'm posting this to prove to myself that I'm going to change and get over it.

#citrus speaks

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muwur · 4 years

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Since requests were open I was wondering if I could request father headcanons for iwai + ushi + atsumu 🥺 btw your writing is vv tasty n I can’t wait to see you write more !! Keep up the good work n stay safe !!

haikyuu daddee headcanons

✧ hc’s ✧ for iwaizumi, ushijima, and atsumu

❧ gn reader

✎ 1.4k words

a/n: omg u called my writing taSTY Dx i cri tySM 💞 that is a high compliment for me AHAHAHAH ILY and ty for the request!

also my lovelies i m back i m sry i was gone so long feojfe i miss yall <3 here u go enjoi, this was fun to write lmk if yall want more characetrs AHAHA

current listen: accidentally in love by sHREK AAHAH jkjk i mean counting crows, they cant take that away from me by ella fitzgerald and louis armstrong, love the way you lie by eminem and rihanna

requests: open!

iwaizumi

✧ prePARED daddy

✧ picked up on this parenting thing p fast, also does a lot of research so he’s ready to face any situation

✧ teaches his kids how to behave n respect others

✧ also makes sure they know not to talk to strangers and teaches them some self defense

✧ be warned these kids are packing a surprise can of whOOP ASS,, dont fuck w them,, plus u wouldnt want buff daddee iwa on ur tail

✧ honestly his kids would be ANGELS ,,, n thats cuz he treats them all so w e l l

✧ mans is ATTENTIVE. he asks his kids about their days, their interests, and encourages discussion about their fEELINGS 🥺

✧ always offers them really valuable and light-hearted advice

✧ and gives them the love and transparency we all wanted but never had--

✧ however his kids are easily (n negatively) influenced esp when uncle oikawa comes to visit--

✧ but mostly bc iwa gets annoyed and slips out a lot of curse words and a “shittykawa” and then his kids started calling oikawa that and now it’s ingrained in them forever fjoefefgfvi (*distant phlattykawa crying noises*)

✧ gives them LOTS of head pats and ruffles as signs of affection

✧ PACKS THEIR SCHOOL LUNCHES and ensures they eat a balanced meal

✧ attends all their games/events,, will get a bit rowdy hype them up

✧ def lets his kids sleep with him when they’re having a bad night or woke up scared from a nightmare (and waits for them to fall asleep before going to sleep himself fojref)

✧ when they were babies he usually succeeded to get them to stop crying by pulling funny faces, showing them their favorite cartoons, or humming a lullaby

✧ when they get older,,, u bet iwa would be suPER protective esp when their kids start being iNtErEsTeD in other people

✧ you: “iwaizumi, they seem like a really nice kid, though”

✧ iwa: *sitting with you in the car, across the street from the ice cream parlor your child said they were at, and spying from the window* “you can’t trust everyone, of course they seem ‘nice,’ they just want our approval”

✧ definitely did not interrupt his child’s potential first kiss at their house’s doorstep by slamMINg the door open “sUDDENLY” cuz he “hEard TheIR vOicEs and THougHt TO lET them In”

✧ effectively traumatized both kids

✧ tho he felt bad after n u made him go apologize so he did (and he was forgiven, only if he agreed to never spy on them again--)

✧ doesn’t stop him from scrutinizing every person yalls kid introduces to you tho

✧ overall a super supportive dad, 11/10

ushijima

✧ ok dEF does not know much about parenting ,, at first

✧ stared at his child like ???nani when you both changed their first diaper

✧ also had plenty of staring contests with his babies ,,, called it bonding

✧ was curious and tasted baby food once,,, immediately regretted it

✧ once put a volleyball next to his child, who attempted to bite it, and took it as a sign that they liked it

✧ after sum time n practice, his mind becomes split between “how to volleyball” and “how to dad”

✧ catch him in the kitchen wearing an apron and whipping up his kids’ favorite smiley face pancakes 😤😤

✧ has an amazing ability to get his kids to stop crying, does really simple things like give them their favorite toy or place a gentle hand on their hand or attend to their needs (mans can tell if they want food or needa poop) and they calm down immediately

✧ carried them on his shoulders once and now they never stop asking him for shoulder rides (not that he minds anyway)

✧ if theres two kids he can probs carry one on each shoulder cuz cmon ,,, have u seen this man

✧ always goes to every performance/game/event his child takes part in

✧ man smiles so soft™ when he goes to the 1st grade play and sees his kid’s name in the program next to their role as “townsperson b” (next year, they upgraded to “singing carrot” in a play about the food pyramid)

✧ if his kid ends up enjoying volleyball, he will teach them e v e r y t h i n g they need to know

✧ but is overall super supportive of anything else his child pursues and doesn’t push anything onto them, would rather let them choose what they want to do

✧ had n o idea what to do when his kid asked him about the birds n the bees asfghkl

✧ couldnt sleep one night thinking about it and just randomly asks you while yall laying in bed in the dARk like “so our child asked me how babies are made and I told them they came from watermelon seeds” (you: 👁️👄👁️ “come again”)

✧ you: *at the grocery store with your child*

✧ child: *hands you watermelon* “I want a little brother!”

✧ you: “haha of course honey” 👁️👄👁️ what do i do (*later to ushijima* “duhfojhguf we needa get another baby i promised our child a younger brother fohurof” ; ushi: “wat” ; you: “itS YOUR FAULT”)

✧ yall eventually tell them not every watermelon can produce babies only really special ones that are really hard to get fhuoefkfotfi theyre not ready for the truth

✧ another great daddee, we stan

atsumu

✧ knew parenting was stressful esp with bABieS but was like eh it cant be that bad right

✧ think again

✧ g o o d b y e s l e e p

✧ develops phat bags under his eyes, responds with a weak “aha im fine just that parenting life and the kids ykNOW” whenever his teammates ask if he’s oKAY

✧ tried to tempt his kids to eat their mush baby food by trying it himself, nearly gagged but was able to say “eughh yuMM”

✧ loves to lift them high up in the air, even throws them up a little and nearly drops them (yall almost died from feAR but babie was having so much fun,,, yall agreed to be just a bit more careful)

✧ rlly bad at getting them to stop crying, gets very stressed when he’s exhausted every option he can think of then calls you over for some help/advice (you: *immediately calms them down* ; ratsumu: “how--”)

✧ calls up osamu a lot to ask him how to make food ,, then simps whenever his twin brother comes over and the kids are in love with this man and his cooking (”dad why cant you make stuff as yummy as this”)

✧ very affectionate with his kids, gives them lots of hugs and kisses on the forehead

✧ plays with them a lot! whether it’s sports, just dance, animal crossing, or UNO, yOU NAME IT WE PLAY IT

✧ also has no mercy when playing competitive video or board games,, has made them cry more than once LOL

✧ so sometimes he toned it down n let them win,, until his kids actually got better and DEMOLISH him every time

✧ is cool with his kids cursing, just as long as they don’t do it in front of their teachers LMAO

✧ plays innocent when he gets a call from school saying his kid was using ‘inappropriate language’ and is like “whaaat? my child? im not even sure where they learned that, maybe check if the other kids in class are saying those things, too--”

✧ reminisces how much nicer his kids were to him when they were younger and all the time they spent together,,, bc now that they reached their tEeNS they want alone time

✧ wants to be B) cool dad so he tries kinda hard, esp in front of their friends but his kid’s just like dad pls dofjrgjigtgro

✧ also very supportive of whatever his kids want to pursue and dedicates time to help them in whatever ways he can (whether that be to help them practice, make sure he can provide transportation, get them supplies, etc)

✧ always playfully competing with you to see who’s the “better” parent (you win by default)

✧ PROTECTIVE dad and will easily intimidate ANYONE who crosses his kids

✧ takes sum adjustment and mental resilience but daddee atsumu perseveres 😤 absolutely loves his kids and would do anything for them

#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #ushijima x reader #atsumu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu x you #haikyuu daddies #LOL #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi haijime x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #atsumu miya #ratsumu #atsumu miya x reader #haikyuu reader insert #requests

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taizi · 3 years

Note

Have you done 4, 49, or 52 yet? If you did sorry. Oh... And will you post these on ao3?

PROMPTS LIST

49. “I have a concern.” “Just one?” “No, but I didn’t think you’d let me speak my piece if I told you how many I actually have.”

all of these prompt fills will make their way to my oneshot collection eventually :)

Shibata just happens to be there.

Nishimura wanted snacks, and volunteered Natsume to go to the convenience store with him, and Shibata invited himself along. He’s only here for the weekend, after all, and Nishimura gets to have Natsume’s attention all the rest of the time.

Natsume sighed, because he knew they’d bicker all the way to the store and back, but he still held the door and waved them through, arguments and all.

Now they’re walking back to Natsume’s house, the plastic bags between them bulging with sandwiches, and pancakes, and rice balls for poor, boring Tanuma. Natsume isn’t carrying a bag because he’s carrying that lazy sensei of his instead.

Their breaths cloud in the crisp January air. The pink and orange of sunset has faded from the far corner of the sky, leaving it a deep, vivid blue.

And it’s there, as they step off the sidewalk and head through the grass, cutting a familiar path through a familiar field of weeds and wheat, that Natsume seems to stumble upon courage.

“Hey, Satchan,” he says, “can I tell you something?”

It’s so casual, almost off-handed. Shibata almost misses it entirely. He’s trying to make sure his new shoes don’t get too muddy, distracted and looking at his feet while they trudge along.

Nyanko-sensei’s eyes are very green in the fading light, glinting with animal brightness. Nishimura tips his head, silly and flighty at all other times, but super attentive when a friend calls his name. Particularly so when it’s Natsume.

Shibata can’t even make fun of the cutesy nickname, because Nishimura is impossible to embarrass. And Shibata has slipped up and used it before, too.

“You can tell me anything,” Nishimura says plainly. If anything, he’s confused that Natsume thinks he needs to ask.

And it’s this moment. Here, in the sprawling, rambling countryside. Here, in the blue hour, when the sun has gone down but the sky is still rich with color. Here, where home is just down the road and their friends are waiting.

Natsume says, “I can see spirits. I’ve always been able to see them.”

Shibata nearly trips, and it takes some real expert maneuvering to save his bag of convenience store food from an unfortunate meeting with the dirt. Nishimura stops walking abruptly enough that it’s almost a trip, too. His eyes are round and full.

“I’ve never told anyone before,” Natsume goes on, sounding amazed by his own daring. “Well-- not really. Not since I was in grade school. No one believed me back then.”

He’s always so pacific and detached, even when he’s in pain or afraid, that the edge of nervousness creeping into his tone now almost seems out of place.

For his part, Shibata is gaping. He can’t believe this. He wasn’t prepared. His eyes dart from Natsume’s anxious expression to Nishimura’s stunned one, and he starts shoring himself up. If he has to intervene, he will. He’s seen more proof than any reasonable person needs, and he’ll shove Nishimura’s face in it like a disobedient dog if that’s what it takes to make him understand.

But it’s only a moment-- only seconds really-- before Nishimura’s face clears. He shuffles his bags to his left hand so his right one is free, and he touches Natsume’s arm the way Shibata has seen him do a thousand times.

“That makes sense,” he says, nonsensically. “More sense than my esper theory, anyway.”

Natsume’s expression would put the sun to absolute shame. His smile is slow at first, but inexorable, like a stream of water picking its way around the bend that meets the river. He must be the brightest thing for miles.

“You thought I was an esper?” he teases, laughter in his voice. “You watch too much TV.”

Nishimura throws up his hands, the contents of his shopping bag rattling ominously. “I saw you float in homeroom once! Like, a foot off the ground! ESP is way more plausible than you’re making it out to be, thank you very much.”

Shibata stares at them, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Waiting for this scene to shift. It can’t be that easy. It can’t be that painless. Nishimura must be lying to save face, or hiding what is most certainly a freak-out of epic proportions, because belief like this is impossible.

Except now Natsume is introducing Nyanko-sensei properly, and Nishimura is talking to the cat-- surprise and wonder melting into acceptance as easily and naturally as a spring thaw.

“You knew exactly what you were doing every time you stole my food!” Nishimura complains, tugging on one of Nyanko-sensei’s soft ears. “Natsume, your cat owes me money.”

Natsume laughs. He laughs, head tipping back, healthy color rising in his wind-chapped cheeks. In this moment, he’s so far removed from that tiny, overshadowed boy that Shibata used to bully on the playground that he might as well be another person entirely.

Could it have been like this back then? Shibata wonders suddenly. The thought is intrusive and unwelcome.

If he had been a kinder child, if he had suspended his disbelief for long enough to get to know the strange little boy no one wanted to sit next to in class, would Natsume belong to him the way he belongs to Nishimura and Kitamoto, Taki and Tanuma, Shigeru and Touko?

"Shibata,” Natsume says, in the tone of someone who’s said it more than once. “Hey, are you okay?”

Shibata blinks, arresting his attention. Natsume is watching him with a puzzled frown. Nishimura is waving his arms around and inching forward, as if he’s playing a strange, abridged version of Marco-Polo.

“Fine,” he blurts. “What’s your idiot friend doing?”

“He’s yours, too,” Natsume says peacefully. “And he’s looking for Nyanko-sensei.”

“What, he poofed?” Shibata looks around the empty field, too. “How did I miss that?”

“Who’s the idiot now, Sumi?” Nishimura calls over his shoulder.

The annoying nickname slides right off Shibata like water off an oilskin coat this time. He’s still trying to catch up to this conversation. He almost feels winded, like he’s huffing and puffing across the finish line of a marathon that no one had the decency to warn him about.

“I can’t believe you just blurted it out like that,” he says, barely mustering the strength to talk above a whisper. “You took ten years ojf my life, easy. I was hyping myself up for a big fallout or something.”

"I can’t believe it, either,” Natsume admits, smiling. “But it wasn’t even that scary, really. Definitely not as scary as I always thought it would be. Maybe because you were here.”

Shibata very quickly looks down at his hands to readjust his shopping bags and not because his eyes are stinging in a telling way.

Nishimura gives a sudden squawk of surprise, hands spread out against the empty air, eyes huge and moon-like. Then his face splits in a grin, and laughter comes bubbling out of him as easily as it always has, and he smooths one hand to the side as if he’s petting something. As if he’s petting Natsume’s ugly cat where it’s fallen asleep in his lap.

His trust is a wild, reckless thing. It’s almost infuriating to watch.

Could it have been like this back then? If I was a better person?

“You said he can fly, right?” Nishimura demands. “I wanna fly! Tell him to take us the rest of the way home! He owes me at least a dozen rides, considering all the food I’ve given him.”

He’s already searching for handholds, trying to find a way up. Natsume stoops to gather the forgotten bags of snacks and loops the handles around his wrist before making his way over. To Shibata’s intense dismay, rather than tell Nishimura that it’s a stupid idea and he’s stupid for thinking of it, Natsume helps him climb up instead.

“I have a concern,” Shibata says dryly.

Natsume huffs. It’s not really a laugh, but it’s not not a laugh, either. “Just one?”

“No, but I didn’t think you’d let me speak my piece if I told you how many I actually have.”

“You can walk if you want to,” Nishimura calls down. “No one’s making you come along.”

It’s very surreal to see him sitting on nothing, well above Shibata’s head. It’s still very annoying to watch him take to this strange new world with enthusiasm and aplomb, as if he was simply born to exist in this moment and be Natsume’s friend.

Never one to be outdone, Shibata ignores his own uncertainty to drawl, “And miss the chance to watch you make a fool out of yourself in new and unprecedented ways? Never.”

Nishimura crows with laughter, too delighted to take offense. Natsume sighs just like he did before they left, when he resigned himself to their noisy, obtrusive company. He holds out his hand the same way he held open the door.

He’s always standing on that threshold. He’s always holding out his hand.

Shibata has already missed so many chances to reach out and take it. He’s not going to miss any more.

#natsume yuujinchou #natsuyuu #shibata katsumi #natsume takashi #nishimura satoru #my writing #natsuyuu fic #prompt #mylifeisalieandididntknow #was thinking about my boy shibata today for some reason

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nothorses · 3 years

Note

Hey if you're up for talking more about transmasc problems I've been thinking about some things lately. My partner is a cis woman and I'm a transmasc enby and basically identify as part nonbinary, part male/fluid between the two. And we both used to be very much caught in the hating-men kind of feminism (which held be back from transitioning for a while, for sure, but I've learned better since then and am getting more comfortable with the idea of being partly a guy).

I came out as trans before we started dating, and she's made a real effort to learn more about trans issues and we've talked a lot about it. But thus far she's basically just switched from talking about hating men to talking about hating cis men, or sometimes about hating cis straight white men. Which sounds like it would be better, but I still don't feel great about it? Maybe I'm just being insecure, but it kind of feels like she has me & other transmascs in a separate category from cis men? Which, I guess I am nonbinary but still I feel like it's kind of invalidating to the very real and masculine part of myself?

I really understand where she's coming from because I used to feel the same. And I don't want to sound like I'm invalidating her anxiety when she talks about being afraid of cis men either. I don't know, have you encountered that kind of attitude anywhere before? I feel like I've run into the same problem with a dear (cis fem) friend of mine who was my college roommate for a few years, who has talked about how she wouldn't be comfortable living with men in her dorm building--but she lived with me knowing I was trans. Like, the culture at our school was such that the trans guys who lived in the mens dorms had problems with harassment and I wouldn't have wanted to live there either but it was still like, well I'm a guy too, you know?

Any thoughts on acknowledging that cis men (esp. cis straight white men) often hold more power than transmascs in society without making it sound like their gender is fundamentally different than trans men?? I feel like it could help to talk about systems of power instead of individual identity but I don't feel like I have the words to make that argument

Oh god, no, you’re absolutely not “just” being anything. As much as I advocate for specifying cis men when you mean cis men, I don’t think that doing the same “man-hating feminism” stuff, but just dis-including trans men from the “man” category, is much better.

@canadianwheatpirates once put it really well when he said that every one of those “kill all men” refrains comes with the implication, for trans men, that we should detransition.

In my opinion, it also comes with the implication that these people believe they can tell. They know exactly who’s a cis man and who’s trans, and they know, always, exactly who deserves their hate and toxicity. If they can’t tell, and if we don’t want to be hated, distrusted, and harassed by them, all we have to do is out ourselves as trans. All we have to do is disclose our trans status for the sake of cis women’s comfort.

Making trans men The One Kind Of Man That’s Okay is not helpful to us, because the difference between cis men and trans men is not our gender- it’s our experience with and relationship to gender.

I don’t think folks need to just change their language to sound more inclusive. I think they need to actually sit with their feelings before they say those things; to consider what they’re actually feeling, what groups they’re actually mad at, and what they want to accomplish with the things they say.

The patriarchy doesn’t work the same way other systems of oppression do, and we can’t just copy + paste frameworks for discussing those other systems onto the way we discuss the patriarchy. We need to put more work and thought into it than that, and that includes actively considering trans men when discussing men as a whole.

#long post #transmansc #Anonymous

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vtforpedro · 3 years

Text

medical update and stuff. trigger warnings in tags I’m extremely frustrated. it’s been 15 months of frustration lol so so so sick of doctors, so sick of living through this. I am tired and getting no relief you might remember, but I was given a ‘possible’ IIH diagnosis in October. we’ve been treating it like it is IIH, which means everything has always been real etc etc and the treatment is weight loss. started my ‘better eating habits’ on nov 1st. then I immediately had the thing with my chemo pill packing on a ton of excess fluid, worsening my head to the point of ER and calling my neurosurgeon, getting taken off my chemo pill, and it wasn’t until mid-december that I actually started to see any fucking weight loss cause of that my pcp told me 5lbs a month. so I’ve been right on track with that despite wishing I could lose 10 a month but that’d be starving myself so lol I’ve lost 15lbs but now something exciting is happening again!! I am retaining fluid and I have NO idea why. which means my head is now as bad as it was last summer when everything was at its worse. constant all day long, pills barely doing anything for me, vision issues, pain issues. it feels like something broke in the base of my skull/neck because I get the scariest sensations there. it’s horrible. no human being should have to live this way and I do it every single day, numerous times a day anyway I had to go to the ER last thursday A G A I N because a doctor sent me. my pupils were noticeably two different sizes. I’d noticed three days beforehand and convinced myself I was imagining it cause it wasn’t a huge difference. finally took a picture and no, def not the same size and my eye looked like it was going inward? anyway, called my pcp, they had me come in that day, he saw it from a foot and a half away, sat back, and said I need you to go to the ER, you need your brain looked at. so again, I’ve been seeing this for three days while my head has been 10/10 extreme due to pressure in it. I get there and have to wait a while but less than two hours later when they finally looked at me? gone. pupils back to normal. doctor talking down to me like I was just an anxious mess and not that another dr sent me cause he saw what I did lol and his notes were in my chart. so, wasted visit and they put a covid patient 15ft from me and intubated them, so get to remember what that sounds like forever and ever (covid patients are supposed to be separated from other ER patients). now I’m doing a 10 day quarantine while I am so severely disabled I cannot bend over to take care of my cats food/litter/etc and it’s why my mom half lives with me but she can’t right now :) getting a covid test in three hours and it’s been eight days with nothing but head issues + fluid retention so hoping it’s negative the fluid retention I had before was a side effect of my chemo pill. I don’t know why this is happening. I should be 17lbs down now and I’ve actually gained weight despite being on the same diet that lost me the 15. I’m back to 13lbs down. this makes me feel like I might be carrying 4lbs of water weight. let me break this down because yesterday a PA told me my symptoms were too ‘ambiguous’ to say if fluid retention is happening or not - fluid retention from the chemo pill was ALL felt in my stomach. it was distended and bloated like I’d eaten at a buffet every single day - head got massively worse, enough to go to the er, doc and I agreed the fluid retention causing me to fluctuate between 15lbs was making the IIH worse - not urinating often despite drinking a normal amount - got on a diuretic, seven days later the weight was gone, head was better, started losing weight this is what I’m experiencing now - fluid retention that is causing my stomach to feel very bloated and look/feel distended - head has gotten massively worse, enough to send me to the ER - should be losing weight, have actually gained weight on a low fat, low calorie diet - the only difference this time is that I am dehydrating myself (yes I know, bad, but it is literally saving my life) because I experimented one day with half my water intake and my head was miles better. still experiencing a terrible head episode once or twice a day but it’s not 10/10 constantly - and the second difference is despite not drinking enough water, I am actually urinating more often and it’s a lot more clear than it should be, the color I expect when I’m hydrating well I consider this ^^^^^ to be a good case of why I think I have fluid retention but being told my symptoms were ‘ambiguous’ and throwing me to my neurosurgeon instead is HNNNNG (esp because diuretics are known to help IIH symptoms FOR THIS EXACT REASON) I have VERY recently had my sugars checked a few times, glucose is normal. VERY recently had an abdominal CT, also normal. it’s not diabetes, it’s not something happening in my abdomen. they hear abdomen vs legs swelling and think it’s GI because doctors never fucking listen and actively put their patients in danger but o h w e l l, I guess anyway as it’s been for 15 months, I am stuck between a rock and a hard place. I go this way and experience agony, I go that way and experience agony I need extra hydration for weight loss, leukemia, being obese. I need less hydration because it worsens IIH to the point of 10/10 I want to die (which makes me heavily and actively suicidal. doctors see I take anti-depressants and assume idk I’m being dramatic but no, it’s really this fucking bad. I would rather die that moment than keep feeling what’s happening in my head) there’s like no middle ground and my body and these doctors are making it impossible to figure this shit out. my mom had to come over at 1:45 AM last night (hasn’t had to rush here since april 2020 cause that’s just how bad it is) because I lost my balance twice and was lucky I had something to catch onto or I would’ve been on the ground (neuro symptoms which could be IIH, could be chiari, could be stroke) and my speech got SUPER bad almost immediately. scared the hell out of me, I have never in my life lost balance that badly before things are going downhill and I would’ve thought losing weight they’d start improving but when has my body ever made this easy lol meeting a new neurologist on monday who works in the same building with my neurosurgeon. I’ve been avoiding them cause every single one of them told me I was just anxious despite specific physical movements causing an episode lmao but hopefully this guy is better and he has access to all of my neurosurgeon’s notes and stuff. I can’t keep dehydrating myself but at the same time I can’t let my head get so bad I make a farewell note for my mom, you know? it’s just been really bad and I don’t know how to get people to listen to me. I have a 99% diagnosis and they still don’t take me as seriously as they should. this has ruined my quality of life and they would have you believe that doctors take that seriously but they do not neurosurgeon wants me to see an ophthalmologist again cause of my vision issues and to check for specific things that relate to IIH. he wants another MRI done in early may cause it’s been a year since my last one by then (actually a month later, my last one was in april, but I’m curious if the neurologist will order one sooner) to check to see if anything has worsened so yeah living in absolute hell again and don’t know if I can just get a simple one week diuretic to get this fluid out of my body. what the FUCK else can it be when I’ve experienced this exact thing twice!! before. it happened to a much, much lesser degree the first time I got on the chemo pill. but the same shit :) hanging on by the thinnest thread guys and 15 months of feeling like I’m going to die almost every single day through that has destroyed my psyche. destroyed me as a person. I don’t know what to do anymore sorry this is all a lot of Bad™ but it’s been a lot of bad for 15 months. if I can keep going, I hope one day to be able to give an update of improvement love you all

#medical #medical trauma #tw suicidal thoughts #personal #long post

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hockeyforthefirsttime · 4 years

Text

That Someone- Roope Hintz

AN: yeah, idk man. This took far too long to write, esp with thought of quality that isn’t there. HOWEVER, I can’t stare at it any longer so here ya go.

Word Count: 2,5k

TW: alcohol, slight angst, general pining

Roope has never been an easy person to understand. One moment he is your best friend, and other times he’s one of the star players of the Dallas Stars. And the two roles, they shouldn’t be all that conflicting, but apparently they are, and you don’t know how to change that.

“Roope, can you please for one second listen to me?”

You speak up in between giggles as he is curled up in your lap.

“No.”

He mumbles into your stomach, the vibration of his voice against your stomach making you chuckle.

“You promised. The deal is that you make dinner every other time.”

“But m’tired.”

His protest makes you card a hand through his hair, which you know is a bad idea. It only makes you feel like your best friend is something more, to you.

“Please just make dinner Roope.”

You sigh. And with a grunt he actually gets up and moves to the kitchen while rubbing his eyes in a childlike manner.

You twist around on your couch and grab your phone from the coffee table.

People always scrunch their noses when they see that your lockscreen is just black. Most people call you boring for it, most of all Tyler Seguin, the Star that you feel closest to, if you don’t count Roope.

You don’t care though, because you don’t want to have anything there. (If you were to have anything there it’d be Roope though). And that about sums up how far into the deep end you are. You have a creeping suspicion that this is what Tyler knows, and that’s why he keeps teasing you about your black lock screen.

Shaking your head, you turn on some soft music on the TV speaker and wander into the kitchen.

Roope has a towel hanging over his shoulder and is quietly humming along to your music.

“You really only know how to make pasta?”

He turns at the sound of your voice.

“It’s damn good pasta and you know it.”

He teases with a smirk. You have told him on multiple occasions just how good his pasta is.

“Maybe so.”

“It’s finished soon, Miss Denial, will you set the table please?”

Roope asks as he turns back to the carbonara he has been making.

It’s the domestic, small things like this that make you fall even further. He just doesn’t realise. Maybe it has to do with the fact that the only person you have admitted your feelings to is you. Because when other people ask about Roope, he’s always just your best friend. As jokingly as he does it, calling you Miss Denial rings more true than he thinks it does.

------

As one of the Star players of the Dallas Stars, Roope acts a little bit different. He brings you out after a big win, he does, but you never go together. There is always some excuse, mostly that he thinks you will have more fun getting ready with the WAGs. Because of that it’s just easier if you carpool with them. Or take your own car. For better or worse, because that means you have to stay sober for the entire night.

And even if you think every night is gonna be different, it never really is. Tonight is apparently no excuse.

They have just won over the Islanders on home ice and are the usual suspects en route to the regular club. Roope had the winning goal and was over the moon when he got out of the locker room and media.

You had dressed in an emerald knit sweater, not being able to put on the jersey Roope had given you. You had tried to put it on, you really had, but feeling the weight of having “Hintz” on your back was just too much for you. Especially when you know that it’s all you’ll ever get.

You’re all sitting together around two tables, doing shots and nursing different drinks. Roope is beside you on the outer end of the table. Tyler is on your right, for once having sworn he isn’t gonna get completely wasted.

You’re all laughing at Miro as he downs another shot of something he supposedly likes, you can tell he’s close to the limit now. However you aren’t too scared, you’re his ride home anyways.

Roope’s arm is resting behind your head and as the time starts nearing one am, even with the flashing eyes and loud music, you’re starting to feel drowsy. You lean into his chest and rest there, unknowingly making the whole table swoon.

“Hey, I’m gonna go get another water.”

Roope’s eyes are slightly glassy as you look at him. Carefully he moves out of his seat to allow you to move.

“Want anything?”

“Just a beer please.”

Roope mumbles softly and you nod.

The queue to the bar is longer than expected, and ten minutes have passed when you walk from there.

You’ve almost reached your table when you notice an absence. It makes you stop and causes someone to bump into you, making you spill half the glass of water. You know they’re gone before you can register who it is.

Sighing, you make your way over to the table and the vacant spot.

“Hey, anyone know where Roope went?”

The group around the table is more reduced now than you first realised. Apparently also feeling very pitiful, ‘cause no one wants to answer the question. Until Tyler does.

“Uhh, some chick came up asking for a dance.”

Miro stumbles to your side, positively hammered, and folds his frame over yours.

“Roope s’stupid.”

He slurs against the top of your head.

“Stop Miro.”

You sigh.

“But s true.”

“Please not now, here drink this.”

You say and hand him the half empty glass of untouched water.

“I think I’m gonna try to get this mafioso home for the night.”

The remaining team members and their significant others all nod understandingly. And since you can’t see Roope, you start to hug people goodbye.

“Don’t worry, he’ll come to his senses sooner or later.”

Tyler whispers into your ear as he hugs you, giving you an extra squeeze.

You set the still full glass of beer down by Roope’s spot, and take Miro’s arm so you can lead him out of the club.

“C’mon, let’s get you and me home.”

“Okay, I feel a little dizzy.”

Only a few minutes later, after you and Miro have departed, Roope comes back to the table still fixing his cap and wiping lipgloss off his lips. Immediately he spots the glass of beer and takes a big swig of it. It’s not until he finishes swallowing that he notices the eyes on him, all except one pair.

“Where did Y/N go?”

He questions.

“So you finally notice, huh.”

Tyler mumbles, yet somehow Roope catches it. Making him frown at his teammate.

“She went home, took Miro back to his place as well.”

Jamie’s date of the night replies. Roope looks towards the exit, but sees no sign of you or his teammate.

----

In all honesty, when you got the first message from Roope, asking why you left, your heart couldn’t take it. So you just shut off your phone and went to bed. And thank god for Sundays, cause you sleep until 11am that morning. It’s not good sleep, and you still feel tired when you drag yourself to the bathroom, and sad. The person in the mirror doesn’t quite look like you, she is much more bleak, faded.

Regardless, you step into the shower and try to wake yourself up. Even though you don’t have anything to do, you still want to wash last night off your body. The soft almost non exiting pressure stream of water doesn’t help much, only adding to your frustrations. So you step out and dry off, before going back to your bedroom. You dress in a pair of old sweats that hang off your hips ever so slightly and a henley sweater you find in the back of your closet.

Your phone is still on the kitchen bench when you walk in, and you decide to power it on again. As soon as you punch in the pin code, it’s overflowing with messages from Roope. And the general gist is worry and confusion. When you click on his contact, and see the messages and the times they were sent, it’s your turn to get worried. They go from tree am to ten minutes ago.

Me: Roope, you need sleep

You type before you can think twice, and send the message. Almost instantly there is a new message, but this time only the one.

Roope: I’m on my way over.

And you swear you are frozen in time, cause minutes go by and you don’t notice, only staring at the screen. A knock on your door shakes you from your stupor, and automatically you go to open it.

Roope looks rough, to put it mildly. He is still in the same clothes as last night, his blond hair is messy even hidden underneath his cap, and his eyes are red and droopy.

“You need to sleep, Roope.”

“No, I need you.”

You sigh and open the door a little further, motioning for him to come in.

“Roope, please. You have to sleep.”

It feels like there is little else to say. You don’t want to have this conversation with him now, when he might not remember it in the morning. Much less when you are on the verge of crying yourself.

“Please, ‘jus wanna talk.”

And he sounds so so sad, when he talks. You never could resist a sad Roope, there is something in the way his eyes plead with you. So you close the door and turn towards him, and are met with that exact look.

“Okay, just go sit on the couch.”

You sigh, watching as he stumbles over to the couch. The trip to the kitchen seems far too long, but when you make it you pull out a glass of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. It isn’t until you shut off the running water, that you hear the soft snores coming from the living room.

Walking into the living room, you see Roope completely collapsed in what has to be an uncomfortable position. At that moment you decide to let him sleep it off. Even if he doesn’t end up remembering this moment when he wakes up. You set the glass of water on the coffee table along with the ibuprofen, and decide to go about your day in other ways.

Like getting your laptop and sitting down by the tiny kitchen table you have, to attempt some work. In reality you end up editing some playlists on your Spotify and getting consumed by it. The next time you look at the clock on the stove, it shows 3pm. And you figure you’ve wasted enough hours on the internet.

Quietly you close your laptop and take off your headset. When you walk into the living room, Roope seems to have realized how uncomfortable he was and has curled up into a ball. Crouching down in front of the couch

“Hey, you need to wake up.”

He groans, but you can tell he is starting to wake up from the way his brows scrunch together. Reaching out, you place a hand on his upper arm and shake him a little. Slowly but surely, his eyes flutter open, meeting your gaze. The whites in his eyes are still a little red, but he seems a little clearer now.

“Morning”

Roope mumbles, while getting up. He swings his legs over the edge and his upper body follows. You can’t help but let out a little chuckle while shaking your head at him. He leans his elbows on his knees, and lets his head drop into his hands.

“Here, drink some water.”

You hand him the glass from the table and go to shake out two pills from the bottle.

“No no, I’m fine without.”

He says after taking three generous gulps of water from the full glass.

“It will help with the pain.”

You tell him, holding your hand out towards his.

“Why?”

He asks, and you answer absentmindedly.

“Because there are chemicals in this that will help you relax.”

Roope shakes his head at you and sighs.

“No, I mean, why are you always so kind to me? Why do you care so much?”

You feel your heart sting and sink to your stomach.

“Do you not want me to?”

The fact that you are getting defensive about this should tell him enough. But he only seems to get more fired up.

“Don’t answer a question with another question.”

And you swear, time stops for a second, giving you time to think a few thoughts. First, that you should never have let him stay. Second, that there are a million better ways to do this. And third of all; fuck it.

“Because I want to be someone to you.”

He frowns at that, trying to take a step towards you, only to discover that you’ve moved to the other side of the coffee table.

“Of course you are someone to me, you’re my best friend.”

Roope even cocks his head to the side in confusion.

“I want to be that someone to you. Not just your best friend. I want you to hold me in public, I want you to take me out on the dance floor when we go out, and I want you to not rush home after a night in. I want to be able to put on your jersey and not feel like an imposter. I think I want more than you’re willing to give. And that’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

You don’t realize you have moved through the apartment, and you don’t realize that Roope has followed you. You do know though, because you can see his reflection behind you in the window.

“All of me, if you’re willing. I’ll give you all of me, because you’re not just my best friend, you’re the friend I call whether I’m happy or sad. When I’m having a crisis or don’t feel well I think of you, or come here. I just didn’t think you’d want all of the public stuff, cause I know you’re a private person.”

He has been moving closer and closer, now you can feel him behind you, across the entire plane of your back. In the reflection, his head is a little bent and his breath is fanning across your neck.

“All of me, is what I can give you.”

Roope whispers, sending tickles down your spine.

“Are you sure?”

You close your eyes as you lean into his chest, feeling him wrap his arms around your front.

“Never more sure of anything.”

The confirmation makes everything fall into its rightful place inside you, so you lift a hand to the back of his neck, which causes him to lean down and place a soft kiss on your lips.

#roope hintz #roope hintz imagine #dallas stars #nhl #nhl imagine #roope hintz angst #roope hintz fluff #roope hintz fic #roope hintz blurb #dallas stars imagine #dallas stars fluff #Dallas Stars angst #Dallas Stars Blurb #nhl blurb #nhl fic #nhl angst

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