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romione-trope-fest · 2 months

Text

Fic Title: Mine

Author Name: flaming-brown-witch

Selected Trope: Only One Bed, Soulmates

Brief Summary: Could it be that Ron was kept intentionally in the dark about Hermione snogging Krum? Gryffindor girls are Gryffindors for a reason, after all. Chapter ½

Word Count: 3266

Rating: T for strong language and frank discussions of below-the-belt action, but nothing explicit.

Any Trigger Warnings: Ron being a sexist dumb-dumb

“Dean and I did it!”

Having not expected such a shrill declaration to greet her upon leaving the library, Hermione nearly dropped her loaned copy of The Companion to the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6. She straightened up to find Ginny beaming at her.

“No!” gasped Hermione after fully processing her dear friend’s words. Although Ginny and Dean had only been dating for less than six months, their relationship had been moving at quite a rapid rate. Still, Hermione never would have expected this.

“Last night,” confirmed Ginny, her mug smug.

“Well?” Hermione demanded as the two set off towards the centre of the castle. “How was it?”

Ginny’s smile faltered. “Well, it hurt. It wasn’t that great actually. But Tonks said that the first time is always like that, remember?” She adjusted the straps on her book bag and bit her bottom lip in giddy anticipation. “We’re trying again after practice tonight.”

Hermione tried to morph her features into happiness for her friend, but she had a nagging feeling that Ginny was making a huge mistake. Firstly, fifteen hardly seemed old enough to be having sex. Hermione had certainly been ill-prepared to even have that conversation when she was dating Viktor. Secondly, Hermione had a strong suspicion that Ginny’s decision to lose her virginity had less to do with her boyfriend than with one of his roommates. As Hermione’s uni-aged cousin, Patricia, often says: the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else.

Ginny could sense Hermione’s internal struggles for her smile faltered again. “Aren’t you happy for me?”

Hermione forced a smile and extended a comforting arm. “I’m happy as long as you’re happy. I’m just a bit surprised. I’d sort of always thought you’d save yourself for…”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “Unlike you, Hermione, I don’t have patience for a boy who will never see me as the goddess that I am.” She punctuated her words with a dramatic sweep of her hand over her body before waving it dismissively. “Or whatever rubbish they’re peddling in Witch Weekly these days.“

Ginny stared ahead as they walked, her face serious. "I like Dean a lot. Way more than Michael. I might even love him.”

Hermione observed Ginny’s forced determination with a pang, even more certain of her suspicions. But it was Ginny’s life after all. Hermione could provide all the advice in the world, but Ginny was ultimately responsible for her decisions. The most Hermione could do was be supportive.

“Speaking of boys failing to see goddesses,” said Hermione, “you’d better be careful that Ron doesn’t find out.”

“Don’t worry,” Ginny hastened to assure Hermione. “Dean has no interest in getting murdered in his sleep. Anyway, I’ve got to go. I told Harry I was going to help him prepare for practice.”

Hermione stared at Ginny.

“I don’t know why you’re giving me that look…” Ginny mumbled before taking off towards the quidditch pitch.

On Hermione’s solitary walk to the Gryffindor common room, she reflected on how she couldn’t really blame Ginny for her “getting under someone to get over someone” strategy. After all, wasn’t that a version of what she did with Viktor? At that time, she was certain that Ron would never feel an ounce of what she felt about him.

But things are different now, Hermione thought with gleeful anticipation as she reached the portrait of the Fat Lady. Sure, Ron and Hermione had been moving at a pace that felt inversely proportional to Ginny and Dean’s. But now that Ron was her date to Slughorn’s Christmas party, their pace—while still too slow for Hermione’s liking—had picked up perceptibly.

The only problem was Lavender Brown.

Lavender, who historically showed zero interest in Ron in their five years of knowing each other, began to have her eye on him when he scraped the Gryffindor house cup the year prior. Ever since he started term having grown both in height and in muscle, she had become intent on putting her body on him as well.

Sure enough, as Hermione entered the common room, she was unsurprised to find Lavender cozied up to Ron on a couch, touching his upper arm. What did surprise Hermione was that Ron was flexing for her.

“May I join the party?” said Hermione cooly after marching up to them. Her eyes were on Lavender’s hand on Ron's…bulge.

At the sound of Hermione’s voice, Ron immediately stopped flexing, breaking contact as he crossed his arms tightly. He looked down at his lap as the Weasley flush crept quickly over his cheeks.

“Sorry, Hermione,” Lavender simpered. “This is just a party for two.”

Ron turned apologetically to Lavender. “Actually, Lavender, Hermione and I do have Transfiguration homework to do.”

Lavender did not take kindly to the rejection but made an effort not to show it. “Swots,” she said airily, getting up from the couch. “It’s not even due until Wednesday. I’ll be over there when you get bored, okay?”

“‘Kay…” said Ron as he watched her go.

“Bored already, Ron?” said Hermione, voice dripping with acid.

Ron jerked his head up.

“Are you kidding?” he said, reaching an arm over to pull Hermione to where Lavender was sitting. Hermione snatched her wrist back and sat down on her own accord. If Ron were slighted, he didn’t let it show.

“I am so ready,” he said jauntily, pulling out his threadbare copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, “to tackle transfiguring large furniture. C'mon, Hermione! Let’s go!”

Hermione continued to glare.

Ron sighed and dropped the act. “Look, she asked if she could, you know, touch it and well, I didn’t want to be rude…”

“Because you’re known for being so well-mannered,” said Hermione icily.

Ron raised his eyebrows sheepishly and gave a harmless smile as if to provide evidence of his good manners.

“Do you like her?”

Ron blinked at the unexpectedly blunt question. “What? Lavender? I mean…” He stared after her again. “What’s not to like?"

"Have fun doing Transfiguration homework all by yourself, Ron,” Hermione muttered, rising from her seat. He pulled her back down with a grin.

“Now if you’re asking if I fancy her…” Ron said, his eyes twinkling as they often do when Hermione expresses displeasure at his attempts to flirt with other girls. “Nah. I reckon you know who I fancy.”

He observed the impact of his words with a small smile and a blush. Hermione—as much as her heart fluttered at the bold move, arguably the boldest to date—refused to give him any credit for the half-admission.

“No, I don’t, Ron, because you never tell me who you fancy."

"I don’t?” he asked, feigning surprise. “Well, I will.”

“When?”

“At Slughorn’s party. After…there’ll be easy access to liquor at that party, won’t there?”

“I suppose?” said Hermione as if it were a question.

“I’ll tell you after a shot…no, two shots of firewhiskey, I reckon.”

She shoved him and as she dropped her hand, she let it linger dangerously close to his. “Tell me now,” she said in a pouty voice that she liked to think was more appealing than anything in Lavender’s book.

Hopefully, Ron agreed, for his eyes flashed with excitement as he took in their almost-touching fingers. Hermione’s heart raced, but Ron simply shook his head with a broad and bashful grin. “After two shots of firewhiskey. Take it or leave it, Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes but accepted the terms. At least she had a deadline to work with. And a zing went through her body upon the realization that she could get a lot more than a romantic confession out of two shots of firewhiskey.

Cracking open her own copy of A Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, Hermione asked, "So we have, what, forty-five minutes before you dash off to practice?”

Ron stiffened at the mention of practice. “Yeah,” he said, turning his attention back to his textbook. “Wow, Hermione, look! The theorem for Switch’s rule about inorganic transfiguration. How fascinating…"

Hermione, deciding to not push back on the change of topic, smiled. "It is fascinating, actually…”

“You’re so abnormal,” chuckled Ron, ducking a blow Hermione aimed at his head.

As the pair delved into their Transfiguration homework, Hermione reveled in the shift in the air between them. Every joke, touch, and look was tinged with the excitement of what was to come. Suddenly, Christmas felt like it couldn’t come fast enough.

Not even twelve hours later, however, Hermione’s hopes were completely dashed.

—

The following morning, as Hermione engaged in her customary wait for her boys to amble down for breakfast, she was surprised to see Harry come down solo.

“Ron, er, had a bit of a late start today,” he explained. “Reckon he didn’t sleep well.”

“Practice was that bad, was it?” she said, staring concernedly towards the boys’ spiral staircase.

Harry exhaled a profound breath. “You could say that.”

When Ron finally came down, he made a beeline to the portrait hole without a single glance towards his friends.

Harry, who seemed wholly unsurprised by this behavior, took off after Ron as a deeply confused Hermione followed suit.

Breakfast was a dreadful affair. The minute Hermione sat next to Ron, she immediately regretted it. Shifting as far as he could without touching the fifth year sitting next to him, Ron kept his eyes on his plate, his jaw set, refusing to utter a word to either of them.

Hermione looked to Harry helplessly, who shrugged weakly before also beginning to work through his eggs and bacon silently.

Halfway through her breakfast, Hermione tried to engage. “Ron, I took too many eggs, do you mind…?”

Ron, who typically would have wasted no time in tipping the contents of Hermione’s plate onto his own, looked at her coolly and said, “No, thanks. I’m not interested in your leftovers.”

Hermione froze. It sounded like a double entendre. Judging by Harry’s reaction, which was to choke on his orange juice, he knew what Ron was referring to.

“Hey, er, Hermione,” said Harry quickly after he recovered. “Can you check my homework for McGonagall? I don’t know if I did those bonus equations right about human transfigurations.”

Hermione regarded Harry for a moment before extending an expecting hand. Perhaps this was how she could curry favor with him to convince him to explain Ron’s behavior later. It was also a welcome distraction from Ron (although Ron did scoff when Hermione asked Harry to trust her about an answer that confused him, causing Hermione to almost spiral into an over-analysis about the action).

Although Hermione was not able to get an explanation from Harry before the start of Transfiguration, the class provided a reprieve from Ron’s baleful glances, as the trio was too focused on their task of transforming desks into bookshelves.

As they set off for their next class, Hermione attempted to break the ice again. “Well, that was a lot easier than we thought it was going to be, wasn’t it?"

Ron was quick with a scathing response. "Yeah, we all know you find a lot of things easy, Hermione.”

Harry inhaled sharply and shook his head in disbelief. “Mate…”

“What in the world is that supposed to mean?” cried Hermione.

“Figure it out for yourself,” Ron growled before stalking off to their next class.

Hermione glared at Harry, who looked worn.

“C'mon,” he muttered, grabbing Hermione’s arm. “We don’t want to be late…"

Hermione started walking with Harry but stopped after a few steps. She was not going to put Harry’s comfort over her need for answers. "No."

Harry looked at her with a mixture of curiosity and resignation.

"I’m not moving until you explain to me what the hell is going on with Ron! I know you know, Harry!”

With a sigh and great reluctance, Harry recounted running into Ginny and Dean in an amorous embrace after practice (even in her despair, Hermione noted the coldness with which Harry uttered the latter’s name), Ron’s overreaction, and how Hermione was invoked in Ginny’s mocking of Ron’s inexperience.

“…and then she mentioned that you had snogged Krum…”

Hermione clapped a hand to her mouth. The meaning behind every single one of Ron’s passive-aggressive actions that morning clicked immediately. “She did?”

Harry nodded grimly.

Hermione’s cheeks grew hot. “Is that all she mentioned?” she whispered fearfully.

“There’s more?” exclaimed Harry, horrified. At Hermione’s affronted expression, he turned a deep red and began to stammer. “I-I mean…n-not that…y-you can do…none of my…it’s just…Ron…"

He indicated weakly in the direction of their next class. Hermione decided that Harry was worth saving.

"Ron would go out of his mind if he knew,” she said, more matter-of-factly than she felt.

“Absolutely ballistic,” Harry agreed desperately.

Hermione groaned. “Which is why he was never supposed to know about anything. I told Ginny to keep it a secret."

Hermione had been very careful to hide from Ron the true nature of her relationship with Viktor Krum. Since the ball, Ron had made several attempts to uncover it, the last one almost a year ago during the Christmas holiday.

"Did your boyfriend ever get back to you?” he had asked, abrasive and without any preamble, as they were clearing the dinner table. He was referring to the letter Hermione had just sent Viktor right before the holiday started.

“Viktor is not my boyfriend, Ron,” Hermione responded. “We’re just friends.”

“Really?” His eyes were pleading. Hermione knew then, without a doubt, how heartbroken he would have been to know how far they were from “just friends” the year prior.

“Yes,” she had asserted, trying to convince the uncomfortable knot in her stomach that she wasn’t lying.

Ron nodded and visibly relaxed. Neither had brought up Viktor again.

“Look,” Harry said, “can you just…talk to Ginny about this? And, er, leave me out of it please…”

Hermione affirmed Harry with a single nod, which he received with a grateful smile.

“What,” Hermione hissed to Ginny an hour later, intercepting Ginny’s path to Herbology, “gave you the right to tell Ron that I snogged Viktor after I swore you to secrecy about our relationship?”

Ginny’s eyes bulged. “What? Did Ron—?”

“I wormed it out of Harry.”

“Well,” said Ginny defensively, “he was being a complete prat when he and Harry barged into me and Dean in a completely deserted corridor, basically calling me a slut for just snogging my boyfriend, so I had to retaliate, didn’t I? It just slipped out. I’m sorry!”

“Well, you should be sorry!” Hermione spat. “Sorry for your chances at a Gryffindor victory!”

Ginny’s eyebrows furrowed. “What are you on about?”

Hermione scoffed. “Do you really think rubbing Ron’s sexual inexperience in his face when he’s already been playing abysmally was any good for your chances this Saturday?"

"Oh, come on,” said Ginny but she sounded nervous. “I’m sure he can’t get any worse than he has been.”

—

After practice, Ginny barged into Hermione’s dormitory. “I was wrong. He was worse. He was much worse.”

She collapsed onto Hermione’s bed and groaned into her hands. Hermione, who had been reviewing for transfiguration, returned to her task and beat the urge to say “I told you so.”

Ginny sat up and turned toward Hermione, eyes desperate. “You can fix this.”

“Me? How? He’s not even talking to me.”

Ginny took a deep breath. “You need to shag him.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “What?”

“It’s simple. You two finally shag, we win the match, everyone’s happy.”

Hermione laughed. “Maybe you should take a pause with Dean. Sex is clearly taking over your mind.”

Ginny looked at Hermione sourly. “I got this idea from you actually. When you mentioned that being reminded of his inexperience was no good for his keeping. Logically, the opposite must be true as well.”

Although Hermione could not argue with that logic, she remained deeply troubled.

“Hermione,” said Ginny, grabbing her arm with urgency. “I know you know that this could work. Ron’s got all this pent-up energy hanging ‘round you all the time and being too gormless to do anything about it. Now that I think about it, that has to be why he started choking during practice.” She shrugged, helping herself to Hermione’s evening snack of Nougat Chunks. “He was fine before you asked him to Slughorn’s party. It’s obvious that a good shagging is exactly what he needs to boost his confidence.”

“And you think I can give him that good shagging with all the experience I have in that area?” Hermione shrieked.

Ginny shrugged again. “Honestly, you don’t really have to do much. Even if you just lie there, they’ll still have at least a decent time, I reckon.”

Hermione huffed and crossed her arms. “Absolutely not. How dare you ask me to…to prostitute myself for a Gryffindor victory? Least of all for someone who I’m not sure I like very much right now.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, having endured variations of the final statement for years. “Look, even Harry thinks the idea has merit.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped yet again. “You talked to Harry about this?” she cried, turning red.

“Yes,” Ginny wailed, turning red herself. “And it was an extremely uncomfortable conversation. This is how desperate the situation is. Please, Hermione.”

“No, Ginny. I’m sorry for not being as sexually liberated as you are,” she added drily. Ginny scowled. “Call me old-fashioned but I’d like to be on talking terms with your brother, perhaps kiss a little first before getting completely naked with him!”

Ginny opened her mouth to respond just as the door to the dormitory opened. As Lavender entered, Ginny’s lips curled into a wicked smile.

“Well, then if you won’t do it…”

“Ginny…” warned Hermione.

“Oi, Lavender,” Ginny called. “You’re a slag, aren’t you?”

Lavender gave Ginny a cool once-over. “It takes one to know one, Ginny.”

“Would you consider shagging—?”

“Fine, I’ll do it, you evil, evil bitch,” snapped Hermione, glaring at Ginny. Ginny beamed back.

Hermione threw Lavender a dirty look. Lavender flashed them a smile that was as full of understanding as it was fake.

“If this is about shagging your brother,” she drawled as she sauntered towards her bed and settled in, “just tell him to find me if he wants someone who actually knows what she’s doing.”

And with a dainty flick of her wand, Lavender’s curtains swung shut.

Hermione looked at Ginny with intent to murder.

“Come on, don’t look at me like that,” Ginny beseeched. “She’s been hovering over him like a vulture. If you don’t do anything, it’s only a matter of time before she gets her talons in him, don’t you think? Especially now that he’s all cross with you because of Krum?”

“Thanks to you,” said Hermione bitterly. But as loath Hermione was to give Ginny credit for anything at the moment, the problem of Lavender was indeed her most valid point.

“Trust me, Hermione,” smirked Ginny, leaning back on her elbows and emanating the type of confidence only endemic to those who get laid. “You will be thanking me after this plan goes well."

Then, remembering her relationship to the subject of the plan in question, she shuddered violently. "And this is the last time we ever discuss you shagging my brother.”

Ginny eventually left, leaving Hermione to agonize over how on earth she was going to bridge the chasm between her and Ron enough to bring sex to the table. As she turned her attention back to transfiguration, her eyes landed on a photo of a pillow being transformed into an ornate bed.

“Cubilious…” Hermione whispered, and an idea sparked to life.

#submission

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laxmiree · 6 months

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[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Exclusive Past- Monochrome Scenery translation

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT ⚠️

This post contains a HEAVY SPOILER for the story that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

Through Thousands of Mirrors Event | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | HS/Uni SSR Story: Monochrome Scenery (You're here!)

[Notes from Lux: Here’s the CN video link if anyone wants to follow along his Voice Acting. VERY recommended to re-read Until Dawn R&S regarding his 'contract' with BS. AND perhaps Distant Similarity UR MQ as it's the date that is relevant to this story.

[Part 1]

I walk hurriedly towards Dr. Lawson's laboratory, while opening the paper bag in my hand, and stuffing the hamburger into my mouth.

Skipping lunch might save some time, but if it leads to a lack of carbohydrates and sugar, causing a decrease in productivity during the entire afternoon, it could be counterproductive.

When will nutritionists finally invent nutritional packages? Preferably in the form of a liquid that can be consumed just once a day.

The time saved this way would be enough for me to read a few more research papers.

??: Hi, Lucien. Are you going to the lab?

A friendly voice from behind rings out, and I turn to look behind me.

Lucien: Hello, Elliot.

Elliot: Seems like we're both going to be late.

Elliot quickly crosses a puddle, only slowing down after catching up with my steps.

Elliot: But I recall you've always been punctual. Did the recent lab class not go smoothly?

Lucien: I chatted with Professor White for a while and lost track of time.

Elliot: Ah, I understand. She's always very talkative... The only one who can talk as much as her is my clinical medicine professor.

Elliot sighed deeply and pointed at the teaching building he had walked from. We quicken our pace once more.

When we arrive at the lab, Senior Caroline has already begun today's work.

Just as I put my bag next to my desk, someone heavily pats my back.

??: Hi!!

The overly enthusiastic voice pierces through my eardrums, and without turning around, I know it's Colt.

Now that he's here, his daily challenges are probably about to begin again.

Sure enough, after greeting me, Colt slightly composes himself and looks at me.

Colt: Good afternoon, "Xiū, Mǒ" How's that, did I pronounce it correctly this time?

Lucien: It's "Xǔ Mò".

He scratches his head in frustration and quickly starts a new round of attempts.

Lucien: Actually, you can just call me "Lucien".

Colt: How can that be acceptable? I have great respect for Chinese culture; I'll definitely learn how to pronounce your name!

Colt raises his eyebrows high, and the confident expression on his face is so exaggerated that it could be used as a reference for the facial expression scale.

I give up trying to explain to him that "respect" and "pronunciation" are not causally related, and I put on my protective gear after setting down my bag.

I hope he succeeds soon and gives up making me his involuntary Chinese teacher, where I'm only tasked with examining two words every morning.

Caroline: Shut up, Colt. Leave Lucien alone and come over here to work, okay?

Caroline who was immersed in her experiment furrows her brow and glares at Colt, using her gaze to reprimand the "senior" lab member who has been there the longest.

In the end, she smiles and greets me.

Caroline: How's it going today, Xǔ Mò?

Lucien: Sorry for being late. Where should I start taking over from now?

Colt: This isn't fair! You've never greeted me with such a smile. Wait, why is your pronunciation correct? One more time, Xiū... Xī…

Like everyone else, I calmly ignore Colt's continuous self-challenges and begin today's work.

As a newcomer who has been in the lab for just about a month, there isn't much for me to do.

In fact, everyone here is more like doing their own research in the lab on topics they are passionate about, while occasionally helping Dr. Lawson with minor tasks.

Looking back, it seems that this casual and free atmosphere could be glimpsed from the very beginning, during that interview with just two questions.

=Flashback Start=

Dr. Lawson: You have an excellent research experience, and the awards you've received are enough to apply to even more top-notch labs.

Dr. Lawson: Why did you choose to reach out to me?

The doctor set my application paper and the stack of recommendation letters aside, looking into my eyes.

Lucien: I'm currently very interested in topics related to parietal lobe function research and its applications.

Lucien: So, for me, your lab is the best choice.

Dr. Lawson: Hmm, there is indeed a high match in terms of research direction.

Dr. Lawson: So, what do you hope the lab can provide for you?

I instinctively thought I had misheard.

Questions like "What do you think you can bring to the lab?" are ones I've mastered, but this reverse question isn't as common.

After a brief moment of thought, I honestly answered.

Lucien: If possible, I hope to research more of what I'm interested in within the limited time.

The doctor raised an eyebrow without giving a clear response, concluding this brief interview that lasted less than a few minutes. And a few days later, he sent me an acceptance email.

=Flashback End=

Colt: Hey, Xī Mó! Listen to me, I have a great idea!

Probably seeing that I'm not especially busy, Colt eagerly strides over to my desk, holding a small box in his hand.

I set down the keyboard, take out a notebook from the side, and turn towards him.

Colt's thought process is unique; he always manages to come up with some innovative ideas.

Lucien: Do you have any new ideas regarding the research topic?

Colt: No, no, there's not much to do today. How about a game of the traditional lab card game - NOU!

Colt: Do you want to join?

Lucien: …

And of course, there are times when it's just pure time-wasting.

I offer a polite and apologetic smile in return.

Lucien: No, thank you.

[Part 2]

A fixed routine can often lead to a skewed perception of time and dates.

I flip over the calendar again and mark the schedule for the midterm exam week, which is about half a month away.

Exams may not be a cause for concern, but papers and classroom presentations still require time-consuming preparation.

I furrow my brow as I look at the data for my research project on my desk. Just as I'm about to set down my pen, I pause.

The current issue is that the research progress is slower than anticipated, requiring extra time to meticulously review the results.

The once well-structured plan has become exceptionally tight.

How about cutting two hours off my sleep? It shouldn't significantly affect my regular routine.

And smoothly, a blank section appears on the spreadsheet.

Satisfied, I add a line next to my schedule: "Email Dr. Lawson to request an extension of laboratory usage time" as a reminder.

Then, I pick up the already printed poster and leave the dorm on time.

It's my turn to present a report in class today.

Lucien: Hello, everyone. Now it's my turn to share something with all of you.

Whispers of discussion arise one after another, even a few students who had just been yawning straightened up in their seats.

Half the semester has passed, and the curious glances that used to accompany me have subsided. My age, my height, and where I come from might not be as important anymore.

I know very well that now all the curious and probing gazes are focused solely on the poster I have unfolded.

In the corner of my eye, someone raises their hand.

Lucien: Is there a question?

I set down my materials and quietly look at the student who raises their hand.

Student A: I don't have any questions about your presentation. I'm just curious if injuries in the relevant brain region have an impact on drug addiction?

This is an expected question, as I myself noticed similar uncertainties when researching for literature.

Lucien: There is indeed an overlap, but based on existing research, I don't believe there is a direct correlation between the two.

Lucien: Moreover, for the topic I'm currently presenting, there's no need to overly emphasize the impact of different functions within the same area.

But it's evident that the other person doesn't share the same view.

After a brief moment of silence, he raises the issue of potential effects caused by drugs, and I counter each of his points.

However, the consecutive inquiries and debates have actually given me a fresh perspective on the topic at hand.

I attempt to work it out in my head, then take a pen and start writing on the whiteboard.

Lucien: Adding the drug effects caused by addiction as one of the conditions…

Lucien: I currently lack the relevant literature evidence, further substantiation will require future research, but I do have some hypotheses.

The rapidly moving marker on the whiteboard makes a slight squeaking sound as I write, and more questions and discussions emerge in the classroom.

Student B: Given the drug effects, the current papers seem somewhat lacking in rigor.

Student C: But we also shouldn't overly focus on such special cases, just from an experimental perspective…

These ideas and questions aren't quite direct and precise enough.

But the known theorems are once again filled with possibilities, and what I initially considered just a school assignment topic seems to have become interesting again.

The brilliance of the unknown and curiosity subtly shine through the structured words, silently beckoning everyone who tries to explore the mysteries.

Of course, I'm also paying the corresponding "price" for this "interest".

Class ends nearly twenty minutes later than scheduled, and I can only jog all the way, hoping not to be too late for the next classroom.

As I gaze at the ever-extending street ahead, I begin to understand why so many people are buying bicycles.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Lucien: Good afternoon, I hope I'm not too late.

Caroline: Of course not. Take a rest for a while. There isn't much to do today.

Caroline looks up, smiles at me, and points to the well-stocked snack cabinet on the side.

I put down my backpack, intending to pick up my water bottle to get some water, but I notice that there's a stack of data on the table that I haven't worked on, with several annotations written in different handwriting.

Slender and smooth cursive characters detail the model's construction and calculation process, while round and hastily written words explain extensive contemplation and inferences, along with many grammar errors.

Slightly smaller handwriting marks cited references and related experiments.

Lucien: Are these... further derivations based on my personal research project?

A head pokes out from the edge of the table.

Colt smiles and waves at me, with Caroline and Elliot following behind.

Several people stand by the table, making the already small space seem even smaller.

Colt: Well, I heard about the direction of your project a few weeks ago during the meeting and found it very interesting. I got into the habit of discussing it with Caroline when we were chatting…

Caroline gives an apologetic smile.

Caroline: I'm really sorry. Colt looked at your desk and research notes without your permission.

Caroline: He usually doesn't have a strong sense of boundaries when he's around us, and we've become used to it. We didn't expect him to go through your research materials this time.

Caroline: I initially wanted to refuse to discuss it with him, but the research direction is so novel, and the reasons for the roadblock are also quite intriguing. It was easy to get carried away…

The research content is indeed not much of a privacy concern, and exchanging data and projects is quite normal.

Lucien: Next time, we could discuss it during the regular meeting or just talk to me directly. It would be more efficient.

Lucien: However…

I quietly watch the smiling faces of others, my puzzlement still not answered.

Lucien: As I recall, my direction doesn't really overlap with yours, does it?

Caroline: Yes, so we've just made some inferences. The specifics still require you to take another look.

Lucien: Okay.

I lower my head again and begin to roughly browse through those handwritings.

Colt didn't propose a new direction but changed the experimental approach, while Caroline and Elliot used this to present arguments or counterarguments.

Different notes mutually fill in and correct each other, gradually outlining a clear framework.

Lucien: This hypothesis seems to have a high feasibility.

Lucien: I will try to adjust the experiment according to this approach later.

Lucien: At a suitable time in the future, based on the specific data, we can determine whether it can move forward or not.

Colt: Sure, it can!

Colt nods vigorously, his voice much louder than usual.

Colt: I've noticed that you've been busy with midterm exams and papers lately, so I ran some of the data with them to save you from spending extra time to test and verify the data.

Colt: So far, several graphs are looking quite good. I hope they can be of help to you!

Lucien: …All of the data?

I'm stunned.

I've already prepared to apply for extra lab time, but the data I needed to test and verify has just landed directly in my hands like this.

Colt: Of course! The three of us taking turns won't take much time, better than you staying here without eating or drinking.

On the side, Elliot also smiles and hands over another stack of documents.

Elliot: I asked a friend who's a clinical medicine student, and I was able to get some research materials on what happens when you have a lesion in the area in question.

Elliot: Perhaps it can offer some assistance from a different perspective. Consider it as broadening your perspective.

Lucien: Thank you. I did plan to reference some research findings from other fields, but unfortunately, I haven't had enough time recently.

A valuable idea to consider, coupled with readily available data, and the issue that had been stagnant for two weeks was suddenly solved without any warning.

I silently look at the mixed handwriting.

I know that human beings will always help each other and work together to achieve what individuals can't do alone.

Relying on each other for certain aspects and independently taking on the needs of others within the same community.

But along with the objective facts, there is also an inexplicable and faint warm feeling surging to my heart.

The seemingly ordinary paper in my hand now vaguely has a different weight to it.

Lucien: (gently) Thank you, all of you.

Colt: Hey, kid.

Colt smiles and puts his arm around my shoulder.

Colt: We're all from the same lab, so helping each other is only natural.

[Part 3]

After the last meeting before the autumn break, Dr. Lawson stopped me.

Dr. Lawson: Lucien, do you have any plans for the autumn break?

Dr. Lawson is organizing the reports we submitted, his tone is calm.

Lucien: I'm staying on campus. If there's a need for someone to oversee the lab, I can help.

Dr. Lawson: You aren't going home?

I smile and reply in the same tone that Colt and the others usually use when joking around.

Lucien: Returning to Loveland City during such a short one-week break?

Dr. Lawson smiles and shakes his head.

Dr. Lawson: How about going nearby? You still have time to plan a short trip with friends.

Dr. Lawson: There are plenty of interesting places within the state worth seeing. Take a train or bus, and "whoosh," it's easy to get around.

Lucien: That sounds appealing, but I'd prefer to take this opportunity to catch up on my project and coursework progress.

Lucien: Recently, my research has just started to make some progress. I'd like to work on it nonstop until I achieve some results.

Lucien: Or is it just that during the autumn break, the school doesn't allow students to stay on campus?

Dr. Lawson: Of course not, silly kid.

Dr. Lawson: I'm just curious, why are you always in such a hurry?

I quietly look at the old man in front of me.

There are too many things I want to explore, and there's too little time.

Nevertheless, I don't feel that I appear "impatient" in my usual behavior.

The doctor shakes his head and taps the table with his fingers.

Dr. Lawson: At your age, you should go out more, travel, play games, take walks, do something silly... Just do anything to waste time and enjoy life.

Dr. Lawson: You do have an impressive intellect, but there are geniuses all around here. So, frankly, you're also an ordinary kid.

Lucien: ….

I've never thought of myself as a once-in-a-lifetime genius, but being straightforwardly labeled as "ordinary" is indeed a first for me.

And, of course, being labeled "in a hurry" is also a first.

Lucien: I don't quite understand what you mean, Doctor.

After a brief silence, I eventually chose to ask the question directly.

Dr. Lawson: I don't doubt your abilities. Lucien, you can accomplish many things by yourself.

Dr. Lawson: But you should also trust your team, after all, this laboratory doesn't consist of just you alone.

He casually points to a group of people in the distance who are playing NOU, and over there, it's particularly noisy, as if the game of cards is reaching a conclusion.

Caroline proudly crosses her arms and looks sideways at Colt, who is slumped over the table, looking dejected.

Elliot begins to tidy up the card table and starts shuffling the cards again.

Dr. Lawson: They're all kids in their late teens to early twenties here in the lab. Came a few years before you, and perhaps they'll leave a few years earlier as well.

Dr. Lawson: But in the road of scientific research, everyone is just a beginner taking their first steps.

Dr. Lawson: I'm not asking you to really study and imitate anyone, but doing something different from your usual routine might make you gain something special. What do you think?

The doctor slows down his voice, his calm tone not resembling a question, it's as if he's talking about the treasure that he is most proud of.

The stack of data with various annotations from a few days ago inexplicably resurfaces in my memory.

I subconsciously infer that when the doctor said, "You're just an ordinary kid", perhaps it meant, "There are many people like you here."

Looking at Dr. Lawson again, he remains as not casual and serious as he was during class. His words are solemn and genuine with a touch of guidance.

Dr. Lawson: If you haven't achieved any significant progress or results within a week, there's no need to lock yourself in the lab every day. But if you need to, remember to turn off the lights and lock the door.

I carefully put away the key he had placed on the table.

Lucien: I'll keep an eye out for it.

Dr. Lawson: Happy holidays.

Lucien: I also wish you a happy holiday.

I say goodbye to him, and as I walk to the door, the doctor adds another sentence.

Dr. Lawson: Take care. And of course, I mean not just during these vacation days.

He smiles at me, speaking a bit slower than usual.

Lucien: You too, Doctor. Take care.

"Take care." The simple sentence passes through my mind, lingering longer than the other phrases.

I think maybe it's because of the pronunciation.

—-------------------------------------------------------

The teaching building has become much quieter during the holidays.

The leaves outside the window are rustling. It's as if the entire city is reminding people of the traces of autumn.

The laboratory feels strangely colder than usual after I'm the only one left.

I closed the window, put on my sweatshirt, and continued with the experiment at hand.

However, the autumn chill didn't last long and was soon warmed up again by the lingering heat of summer.

—-------------------------------------------------------

Five days later, along with the rising temperature, what returned was the noisy chatter within the laboratory.

The first to arrive at the laboratory is the always-diligent Caroline.

She brings a larger-than-usual handbag, takes out beautifully wrapped gifts, and places them on everyone's table one by one.

Caroline: A few days ago, I went to Yellowstone National Park with my family and brought back some souvenirs.

Lucien: Thank you. How was your holiday?

Caroline: It was pretty good, though I wish it could have been longer. I feel like I could stay there for at least half a month.

Caroline: I thought you might prefer something more practical, so I brought this for you. Go ahead and open it.

She smiles and points to the gift box I had placed by the desk. Inside the neatly wrapped layers of gift paper is a coffee mug, with the design of erupting geysers on its surface.

Caroline: This is a landmark sight in the park. I was truly moved when I saw it erupt right on time. I really wish everyone in the lab could go see it!

Lucien: I'll go there if I get the chance in the future.

??: Hi friends! I'm back! Did you miss me during your wonderful holiday?

The next second, a figure rushes in through the door of the laboratory.

Colt is also carrying a package, which is twice the size of Caroline's.

Colt: Oh my god... you're actually working. That's way too diligent.

He looks at me with wide eyes. After some rummaging in the package, there's another gift on my desk.

Colt: I highly recommend trying my grandma's cookies. Even the most popular shops around here can't compete with her skills.

Colt: Oh, by the way, the bookmarks inside were made by my mom. She's recently gotten into handicraft, and our house is getting filled with the things she makes.

Lucien: Please thank your family on my behalf.

Colt: Then they'd be so delighted that they might just invite you over as a guest.

Colt: By the way, do you really spend every day in the lab? Haven't you had any rest at all?

Colt sits down next to me, looking like he won't give up until he gets an answer.

Lucien: I visited a few museums.

Lucien: I also visited some scenic spots along the way and strolled through the market.

Caroline: I remember a few days ago there was a Shakespearean touring theater group performing nearby. Have you heard about it? The performance…

The computer screen in front of me enters screensaver mode, and I realize that I should politely decline this conversation to reactivate the computer and continue processing the data I was in the middle of reviewing.

But when my fingertips touch the keyboard, I pause again.

Such conversations don't have much meaning, but they don't make me feel annoyed either.

Besides, today's progress has been completed ahead of schedule, and there is indeed some free time on my agenda.

I let the screen continue playing the screensaver images.

Colt: How about we also go see a play today?

Lucien: The theater troupe left the day before yesterday, and tickets also needed to be booked in advance.

During the conversation, the laboratory door is pushed open once again.

Elliot: Hey, I thought I was the earliest one here.

Elliot also has a delicately wrapped gift in his hands.

Same greetings, same small talk, and same distribution of gifts.

I look at the three gifts on the desk- I should have some time over the weekend to visit the market and find three suitable return gifts.

Before the plan has been finalized, another particularly large gift appears on my desk.

Dr. Lawson: You all should find these books useful.

Dr. Lawson smiles and nods at us, placing the hefty books one by one on our respective desks, before finally sitting back in the chair and letting out a sigh of relief.

Dr. Lawson: I really should have chosen some lighter gifts; four big books are too heavy for an old man like me.

Lucien: ....Looks like it's four gifts.

I say to myself softly.

Dr. Lawson: Hmm? Did you say something, Lucien?

Lucien: Nothing. I was just saying… "thank you".

Lucien: By the way, Doctor. Here's the key to the laboratory.

The small key that has been with me for five days is returned to its rightful owner.

The gentle breeze blows a book on my table, flipping back a page as fallen leaves dance lightly and land on the windowsill.

I glance at the cloudless sky, hoping that this weekend will also be a sunny day, suitable for going out.

[Part 4]

Everyone left the laboratory with the gifts, but Colt unexpectedly broke from his usual behavior and didn’t attend any party.

Instead, he followed Elliot and me all the way to our dormitory building.

Elliot: Colt, your dormitory isn't over here.

Colt: I know, I know. But on this especially memorable day, how about a game of NOU to celebrate? Here's to our reunion!

Elliot: I knew it... I don't want to play NOU with just the two of us. You better invite one more person.

Colt: Will Xù mò be joining us?

Colt looks up at me, and this is the 16th invitation he has extended to me since I joined this laboratory.

Lucien: Okay.

Colt: It's fine, maybe next time... Wait, what?!

Elliot: You're going to join us?!

They aren't the only ones confused, I'm also a bit puzzled myself.

The choices I've made today are all a bit out of the ordinary, and it makes me wonder why I want to act the way I do.

If I join, will I be able to find the answers?

Besides... Looking at the two of them that have the same expression as if they've just seen a new topic; if I want to refuse now, the amount of effort required doesn't seem proportional to the outcome.

Lucien: Yes.

Lucien: I don't have any other plans for today-

Before I could finish speaking, the two of them had already surrounded me, one on the left and one on the right.

Colt: Is this the blessing of the Autumn Break God! Elliot, let's go quickly.

Elliot: Lucien won't run away again this time.

Saying so, he continues to pull me without stopping towards a small table in the public lounge area.

Just as we sit down at the small table, Colt eagerly begins to shuffle the cards.

Elliot: Do you need an explanation of the rules?

Lucien: No need.

Having watched them play so many times, I'm not entirely unfamiliar with the rules of the game, and the symbols on the corners of the cards also help me determine their colors.

I'll consider it as an exercise in reasoning and memory then.

—--------------------------------------------------------

Elliot: NOU, +2!

Colt: Wait a minute, that's not right. You're cheating! Why do you have a red +2?

After the initial "demonstration round", I quickly realized that this game might not be as straightforward as I had imagined.

Lucien: ...Drawing a +2 card directly from the deck is not entirely impossible either.

Colt: Huh? +2 should be in your hand, right?

Colt: Judging by the overall color distribution of the cards played, it seems like you're building a hand predominantly based on red cards.

Lucien: However, based on the cards that have already been played, there are still 28% red cards left in the deck.

Lucien: I would need to draw that +2 card along with another red number card starting from at least the first four rounds to maintain an advantage without playing the +2.

Elliot: My dear friend, just admit that low probability is still probability and draw the cards.

I nod in silence and urge Colt to draw a card, preventing the game from turning into his endless mathematical calculations.

If that happens, he will build a solid model in his mind and he'll be almost impossible to beat.

I take another look at the situation on the card table.

Setting Colt aside for now, among Elliot's three cards, there should only be blue and green ones.

Or in an extremely low-probability scenario, there might be one Wild card or possibly the last +4 card aside from mine.

I closely watch each card played, rapidly calculating the possible card arrangements in others' hands in my mind.

And I'm equally aware that the other two people sitting at the card table are also making their own deductions in their own ways.

I need to conduct another experiment, even if the cost is higher than expected value.

It's my turn once again.

Lucien: Change color, let's go with... blue.

Colt, who is determined to beat Elliot, wears a worried expression, while Elliot confidently draws a card.

"Reverse."

I silently say to myself.

Elliot: Reverse.

The variables waiting to be filled in gradually decrease, and assuming confirmation is obtained, the inference is established.

The opportunity to determine the course of the card game on the table comes back to me once again.

Colt: Come on Xǔ mò, it's time to play a number card and join forces to eliminate Elliot early!

Lucien: Is that so? I thought I'd have a better option.

Quick responses and extensive thinking make the brain more active than usual.

A seemingly meaningless card game becomes more complex due to repeated setups and disruptions.

Pure competition for calculation speed and formulating strategies stimulate the release of neurotransmitters.

I raise the corners of my mouth and quietly play my card.

Lucien: I choose +4, green.

Due to too many unexpected situations, Colt, who had stopped calculating, begins to howl in frustration.

Elliot, sitting across the table, also appears surprised, his gaze once again scanning the cards on the table.

It's my turn again.

I smile, say NOU, and play the green number card, leaving only one of the same color in my hand and skipping the next player’s turn.

Unless the almost improbable reversal occurred when they have the last card, a color-changing card, and bring it onto the playing field from the deck

But I trust my calculations more than probability.

Colt: Xǔ mò, I thought you were my friend!

Colt has flipped his cards onto the table, giving up on the struggle.

Lucien: Of course I am. That's why I'm sitting here, playing cards with you.

I lean my chin on my hand and look at the card table, unable to suppress the victorious curve at the corner of my mouth.

Lucien: Also, thank you for calling me by my name correctly.

Unfortunately, it's still Elliot who reaches 500 points first.

Colt is not one to accept defeat easily, and he pulls us into starting a new round of the game.

The card game goes on from the afternoon into the evening, and we unknowingly gather a crowd of onlookers around us.

Centered around this small table, the dormitory that was quiet just a few hours ago is now overflowing with discussion and laughter.

We graciously give up our seats to other students who also want to give it a try and withdraw from the crowd.

Colt: Xī... Xú mò is quite skilled. If we go by rounds, he tied with Elliot.

I haven't responded yet when Elliot chuckles and shakes his head, then tosses a box of ice cream from the fridge to both Colt and me.

It's the most common chocolate ice cream with nuts and chocolate chunks added.

I've seen it in many convenience stores, but I've never been interested in buying it.

Elliot: In front of our little genius' brain, even the best luck can only yield to skill.

Colt: Sigh... the vacation is too short. It feels like it just started, and now it's already over in a blink of an eye.

Colt finished his ice cream in a few bites and tossed the empty box into the trash. He leans on the bar table, watching the new round of NOU craze.

Colt: How about we have another round of NOU to refresh ourselves after the experiment is over tomorrow?

Elliot: Lucien, are you joining as well?

Lucien: I have to start preparing for my thesis from tomorrow.

Lucien: The experiment has made progress as well, so I want to sort out the related processes.

Colt: Oh... that's a shame. But how about next time? You'll come, right?

In the dorm room without air conditioning on this autumn day, the ice cream seems to melt even faster than it would in the heat of summer.

I scoop up a spoonful of the slightly softened ice cream and put it in my mouth.

The taste of chocolate spreads with the coolness, it's sweeter than I had imagined.

Lucien: I will if I have the time.

—------------------------------------------------

After seeing them off, I close the door and start preparing for tomorrow's coursework, allowing life to return to its normal course.

A notification pops up on my laptop, indicating an email from Dr. Lawson.

"Hi, everyone. Thank you for your hard work. Our lab's project has passed the review, so you can start preparing for the academic conference that will take place in a few months."

"The conference will be held on a beautiful beach on the West Coast. Since we have ample time, you can all bring your swimsuits and enjoy some time by the water."

"Colt, as for you, don't bring too many fancy things. And definitely leave the unicorn swimming ring behind!"

I can almost imagine Dr. Lawson saying this with a furrowed brow, while Colt complains reluctantly.

"P.S. Lucien's personal research topic aligns with the conference theme. Although the application is a bit late, there will be people at the conference who have done related research."

"You can prepare a summary of your current progress and any issues you've encountered to discuss together."

"P.P.S. Welcome back, everyone."

These few short sentences make me feel a bit warm.

*Ding*

The inbox hasn't closed yet, and there's another notification sound.

The email is encrypted; its sender is Black Swan.

I glance at the calendar and realize that today is the day for the routine report.

The newly arrived email obscures most of Dr. Lawson's message, and the sharp-edged letters in the signature appear to be some kind of silent warning.

"Why are you always in such a hurry?"

Dr. Lawson asked me this before the autumn break.

Yes, children his age have plenty of time to pause, slow down, and enjoy the scenery around them.

To try, to fail, to start over from scratch, to explore endless possibilities.

But Doctor, vacations are always so short.

They always end when you least expect it.

I close the laptop and start selecting the book I want to read tonight.

----------------------------------------------------------

[Phone Call- Class Reunion]

Lucien: Hello? At this time, you should have finished washing up and lying down, right?

MC: Um! I just finished my skincare routine and am already lying down.

Lucien: You sound happier than usual. Did you have a lot of fun at the class reunion today?

MC: You can tell?~ So many people came to the gathering today! All of my old roommates were there too!

Lucien: Are they the ones in the photo you sent, who took a group picture with you?

MC: Yes! Although we've kept in touch after graduation, getting back together like this is still quite rare.

Lucien: No wonder your eyes looked a bit red in the photo.

MC: Haha... I got a little too excited.

MC: But now that I think about it, I don't recall Professor Lucien mentioning much about his own classmates or roommates?

Lucien: I do have colleagues I work with in a lab, but our relationship might not be as close as you and your friends.

MC: Do you guys meet up regularly?

Lucien: We are now in different places continuing our own projects, and most of us have our own laboratories.

Lucien: It's indeed not easy to find a time when everyone is available.

Lucien: However, we do occasionally meet at neuroscience-related academic conferences. That could perhaps be considered a sort of 'class reunion'.

MC: ...Is this what gatherings are like for scientists?

MC: What about your roommates? Do you meet up with them?

Lucien: I lived in a single room and didn't really socialize with others in the same dormitory building.

MC: Wow! That must have been so comfortable! Doesn't that mean you could do whatever you wanted?

Lucien: At that time, I thought it was very convenient to have a space where I would not be disturbed by other people.

Lucien: But now, I've come to realize that having a 'neighbor' around who can 'disturb' me at any time might actually be more comforting.

MC: Oh? Do tell, I'm all ears!.

Lucien: For instance, when I'm out, someone can help me take care of the flowers on my windowsill, or if I forget to buy new tea leaves, I can ask this special neighbor next door for a bit.

Lucien: There are also occasional biscuits and sandwiches, and if I stay up too late, I will receive reminders.

Lucien: And more importantly…

Lucien: With this neighbor lady here, the place where I live is not just a spot to rest, but can be called a home.

[Phone Call - Novice Period]

Lucien: I thought you were also too busy to answer my call today.

MC: I just had a meeting with the new colleagues at the company, so I didn't hear your call.

Lucien: Do you still have some work left to finish?

MC: Not exactly... it's just that this recent batch of new colleagues who joined recently has been really busy.

MC: So I decided to hold a meeting to help them improve efficiency during work hours, aiming for them to leave on time after work.

MC: After all, there's always more work to be done, right? I don't want them to wear themselves out. The way they approach overtime work makes me quite nervous.

Lucien: [chuckles] They're lucky to have a boss who cares for the well-being of employees like you.

Lucien: However, when everyone starts their first job, there's always a certain level of nervousness. So, they can only ease that nervousness by working hard.

MC: Oh? Professor Lucien, you sound quite experienced, but I suppose you didn't have such worries, did you?

Lucien: Of course not, the first time I entered a laboratory outside of school, I also needed some time to adapt.

MC: Wow, what were you like back then?

Lucien: Hmm... I had to clean lab equipment, organize data files, help with literature research—there were many mundane tasks.

MC: Pfft, so Professor Lucien also started as a working person from scratch.

Lucien: That's right. Everyone in the same lab was highly capable, so back then, I often shadowed others, observing and learning as much as I could.

MC: Were there people even more capable than you?

Lucien: [chuckle] Among them, I think I'm just an ordinary person who works hard.

MC: Professor Lucien, your concept of 'ordinary' seems quite demanding.... But I didn't expect you to have a 'novice period' as well.

Lucien: Is that such a surprise?

MC: Maybe it's because your student days were quite unique. While most people were enjoying their youth, you were immersed in scientific research.

Lucien: I suppose it all depends on one's definition of 'youth'.

Lucien: If we're talking about a phase in life where you can do what you like without worrying about consequences, where you can fully explore possibilities…

Lucien: In that case, I'd say my graduate and postgraduate years could also be considered as 'youth'.

Lucien: If you define it as having a love with someone close to you, that you can't bear to part with and always in your heart…

Lucien: In that case, I'd say my youth hasn't had a chance to slip away from me yet.

--------------------------------------------------------

[Lux's short rambling corner]

And finally, it's done 🎉 If I'm being completely honest, the reason it took so long was because I felt that the end of this story seemed 'incomplete'—and I think it turns out to be true? Because the newest birthday story feels like it completes this story.

Still, just as he mentioned in "Distant Similarity UR' MQ," he's accustomed to working alone because there was no one he could confide in, often sacrificing his own sleep to fit more into his schedule. Due to his past self-reliance, he finds himself somewhat at a loss when others offer their assistance 🥲. He's someone who is deeply touched by even the smallest acts of kindness, and you can detect a hint of confusion in his usually monotone 'thank you.'

It's heartwarming to see that he receives small acts of kindness from those around him. His college life seems less hectic thanks to the support he gets from both his friendly seniors and caring mentor 🥺. I also enjoy their harmonious yet playful team dynamic, with Colt being my personal favorite because he reminds me of Fan Zihang, hahah.

Another noteworthy point is what Dr. Lawson mentioned about him being fundamentally an ordinary kid. I think it's accurate, because beneath his 'rush to move forward' demeanor, there's also a yearning for warmth and the opportunity to slow down.

In the dorm room without air conditioning on this autumn day, the ice cream seems to melt even faster than it would in the heat of summer.

I scoop up a spoonful of the slightly softened ice cream and put it in my mouth.

The taste of chocolate spreads with the coolness, it's sweeter than I had imagined.

God, I absolutely adore PG's writing and the beautiful metaphors they weave into the story. Through the story you can see how Lucien's barrier starts to melt by the warm atmosphere. And that's because he's an inherently lonely kid who also longs for warmth and mundane life. It's just too bad that the longing he had shattered in the face of his reality. If i had to describe what I feel when I read that sentence about the email, It'd be like waking up from a sweet dream, and now the sweet dream is tinted with layers of sadness🥲. The dream was over and he had no other choice but to bury his longing so deep.

Why the constant hurry? Because he had no choice but to grow faster than other kids; he didn't have the privilege to fail and try again. Why did he keep his distance from others? Perhaps because he doesn't want to experience another loss after his parents. Why didn't he go 'home'? Because at that time he didn't have anything that can be called a 'home'. Once he wakes up from this sweet but fleeting dream, the world he's diving into is even more treacherous than hell. So in the end, he kept his distance from others just as he said in Distant Similarity UR.

Distant Similarity UR," "Until Dawn R&S," and "Monochrome Scenery" together create a comprehensive picture of his 16-year-old self. "Distant Similarity UR" sheds light on how his college experiences influenced him and his reflections on that period. "Until Dawn R&S" delves into his narrative with BS and his ambitiousness. Meanwhile, "Monochrome Scenery" reveals his more 'human' side and the sense of his relaxed college life being a sort of 'vacation' amidst the long darkness in his life… Anyway, I want to write more but my schedule is tight with all the birthday translation 🤣 Perhaps if I have time I'd write a more comprehensive analysis. Thank you for reading!

#JNDSJHDJ SORRY IT WAS LATE #a very needed read for birthday event!!#mlqc lucien #mr love queen's choice #mlqc cn #mlqc spoiler #mlqc #mlqc translation #mr. love queen's choice #mr love lucien #mlqc xu mo

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beomgyuslilracha · 1 year

Text

the ceo's son ✧.* [ pt. 6 ]

⊹ pairing: choi soobin x f! reader

⊹ genre: strangers to friends to potential lovers (?)

⊹ warnings: none ! (unless you count like one or two death jokes)

⊹ wc: 4.4k

summary: you've been an intern at c company for roughly over four months now - directly under the ceo as his assistant. everything was going perfectly: you were saving up money to attend uni next year, and you knew that you were under the ceo's good graces to receive a great recommendation when the time came! in fact, he took a liking to you so much that he'd often joke that he wanted to set you up with his son. at least ... you thought it was a joke.

"a group date. you made me rush all the way down here ... for a group date?"

"okay, in our defense, you rushed down here completely on your own," beomgyu quickly stated, lifting his hands up as if to protect his face.

were he not under the public eye, as well as at risk of you possibly spotting him at any minute, soobin surely would've strangled all four of his friends then and there.

"i told you this was a bad idea," yeonjun grumbled, trying to peer through the restaurant window to spot which of the girls in there had his friend so smitten.

seeing as he was now the only one of the group who had yet to see you in person, he was definitely feeling out of the loop.

"i can't possibly go in there, i'm going to look crazy," soobin groaned, his hands stressfully running through his hair as he began pacing back and forth.

"because rushing in there to ruin an actual date would've been fine?" taehyun questioned, judging the priorities his friend had in place.

finally pulling himself away from the window and ending his losing game of guessing who you were, yeonjun stepped back into the group. he was getting bored of their standing around. "as far as she knows, you already had plans, so i say we just go home."

soobin was on the verge of agreeing with yeonjun again, but he was lucky for another voice to give him an equally good idea.

"or we can go in there and pretend to run into her coincidentally while in the middle of said plans," taehyun suggested, though not exactly proud of it.

if he was being entirely honest, he really just wanted to see what would happen.

"i'm kind of on board with this," kai jumped in next - the second person who just really wanted to see what would happen.

soobin was now having a staring contest with the door, starting to wonder if going in there would be a good idea. as far as he knew, you were upset with him, so what if you seeing him just made things worse?

"sure, come rushing down here to ruin a date with no problem," beomgyu commented amidst his thoughts. "but going in there to have dinner? that takes a lot of thinking."

after smacking beomgyu for his unnecessary commentary, soobin then forced his friends to enter the restaurant first. his nerves had him wanting to hide for just a little bit longer - genuinely terrified of the idea of you actually spotting him.

taehyun, unfortunately, ended up putting himself in charge of grabbing soobin by the wrist and physically dragging him along behind them. had soobin been left to walk on his own, he would've turned entirely around and headed home without a word.

he just wasn't ready.

sure, he headed right over without a second thought because of how desperately he wanted to see you, but now he was thinking - and he was thinking he should have stayed home.

"hi, can we get that table over there? yeah, right over there beside that group?"

beomgyu has now made second on soobin's list of who to strangle before the night was over. yeonjun had already occupied the first.

per beomgyu's instruction, the hostess lead the five of them right over to their table ... the table perfectly placed right beside yours. the table that was going to give soobin a heart attack the closer they got to it.

without even needing to discuss anything with each other, all four idiots made sure to leave the seat closest to your table empty for soobin.

the seat that was conveniently right beside yours.

・❥・

that evening, you were sitting across from wooyoung and listening as he retold a story about an escape room he had done with a group of his friends. it was funny and most definitely interesting - it was strong enough to capture your whole attention away from the entire group.

even though you were all sitting together at the table, with chaewon sitting directly beside you, it felt like it was mostly you and wooyoung talking amongst yourselves.

you felt refreshed whenever you spoke with him. you genuinely enjoyed his company and you finally were able to draw away from thinking about soobin.

"y/n?"

your eyes flickered to the new presence you hadn't noticed standing beside your table. suddenly, you sat up completely straight in shock, even catching your best friend's attention - followed by everyone else shortly after.

"soobin! wha- what are you doing here?" that's when you noticed the table beside you, which sat four boys that were expectantly watching your entire exchange with amused smiles.

you were pretty sure you recognized three of them, but that wasn't important.

"that- that was a dumb question," you spoke before he could answer. "obviously you're here for dinner. with your friends. i'm sorry. i should let you-"

"actually, can i talk to you?" soobin quickly interrupted, very clearly taking a deep breath in order to calm himself.

a twist in your gut was giving you the idea that this did not feel like a good sign. either that or you just felt incredibly nervous all of a sudden - more so than you already were just from him standing there. or maybe it was both??

"yeah, sure, do you- do you wanna go outside?"

soobin nodded quickly, sending an awkward, thin-lipped smile to your group of friends, who had been watching the two of you ever since he showed up.

as you were about to stand, chaewon quickly grabbed your arm to stop you and gain your attention. you could practically hear her screaming at you from the silent glare in her eyes. you could hear every question she was asking from just the small lift of her eyebrow.

this is soobin? the soobin? are you gonna be okay? do you want me to cover for you? what about wooyoung?

you could only manage one solid nod before slipping your arm out of her grasp. just enough to signal that you were going to be okay and it was, hopefully, going to be completely fine.

finally following soobin to the outside of the restaurant, that's when you began to regret your decision.

why didn't you just say no? you began to think that you should've just stayed inside or at least asked chaewon for help. you couldn't handle being alone with him. what if he broke off your friendship?! what if this was some uncomfortable conversation he wanted to have about how you made things weird yesterday? what if-

"are you mad at me?"

you blinked and tilted your head, a bit confused. all the questions in your mind suddenly disappeared. "mad at you?"

"i just want you to know that it wasn't me who messaged you today," soobin quickly began to ramble, unable to help himself now that he was finally seeing you face-to-face. "yeonjun had my phone and he thought he was helping me, but he really just made things worse. i never wanted to cancel our plans; i really wanted to see you for lunch but he told you that i forgot when i didn't."

you opened your mouth to speak, but he continued.

"and then he told me to visit you after work because he thought it'd look cool if i did. but then you weren't there and you didn't answer my calls, and i really don't want you to be mad at me or avoid me because i really-"

"soobin!" you finally managed to stop him, your hands physically grasping either side of his arms. you were practically smiling from ear to ear, finding him even more adorable than ever. "i'm not mad at you. i forgot my phone at home, or else i promise i would have answered."

soobin sighed in complete relief from your words, purely glad that yeonjun didn't completely ruin his friendship with you.

although, his heart was still pounding out of his chest. he wasn't sure if you noticed, but he was mere seconds away from confessing to you like a complete idiot.

"if i'm being honest, i thought ... i thought you were mad at me," you admitted, now dropping your hands and avoiding his eyes.

"me? mad at you? y/n, i could never." he stepped forward and grasped both of your hands in his, sending your heart completely soaring from such a simple gesture. "why would you ever think that?"

soobin was genuinely surprised and, admittedly, hurt by your words. never did he want you to believe - not even for a single second - that he could ever feel anything but adoration for you.

"well, i thought you didn't want to see me anymore after ...," your words trailed off and your entire face began to heat up in embarrassment. "anyway, you told me it was your friend, so it really doesn't matter."

"i want to make it perfectly clear that, after this, he is not my friend," soobin stated, earning a smile from you that made him break into your favorite dimply grin.

the tug in your heart had you remembering just how much you missed his dimples. how much you missed him.

"you're right, sorry," you laughed at his clarification.

"i also want to make it clear that i would never not want to see you." soobin felt like he could throw up from nerves. he wanted so badly to tell you more. he wanted so badly to confess to you. a million thoughts were running through his head, and he was fighting so hard to think straight.

with your hands in his now, your eyes unwavering from his own, and his heart racing a million miles a minute, soobin wondered if he should tell you anyway. maybe the risk wouldn't be as scary as he thought. "i ... i really-"

"hey, y/n, are you alright?"

you finally broke eye contact with soobin to notice wooyoung standing at the doorway, his eyes moving back and forth between you both before landing finally on your hands.

"oh, yeah. yeah, i'm fine. we're just talking." you instinctively pulled your hands away, feeling embarrassed that wooyoung had seen it for himself. "is- is everything okay?"

"everything's fine. i was just getting worried since its been a while."

soobin felt ashamed for his thoughts. he felt ashamed for the way his entire demeanor dropped at the sight of this guy. he felt ashamed for hating the way he felt when you pulled your hands from his. he felt ashamed for the way he wanted whoever this was to immediately leave you both alone.

this was now the second time in the past few minutes that he attempted to tell you how he felt, but was only just barely interrupted right before he could say the words.

"we'll be right in, don't worry."

wooyoung only gave a brief nod before slowly retreating back inside, once again leaving you and soobin alone on the sidewalk.

this time, the silence felt much more awkward than it did a second ago.

now, all soobin could think about was who this guy was to you. was he your boyfriend? were you dating? were you just friends?

maybe the past two interruptions were a sign, in a way. maybe the universe was stopping soobin from making a fool of himself in front of you. if that was the guy who was waiting for you, then he clearly had no shot at ever hearing you feel the same way about him.

"we should go inside now," you finally spoke, trying to relieve a bit of the awkward tension that had settled in between the two of you.

you weren't sure what changed, but the lightness of your shoulders suddenly felt heavy again.

by the time you both had returned to your respective tables inside, it no longer was as refreshing as it had been before. the nice evening suddenly became much more awkward.

to make it worse, it suddenly felt like everyone's eyes in the entire restaurant were on you for a reason you couldn't explain.

not that you were entirely off for thinking that, considering the entirety of one particular table seemed to be watching your every move. four of them were watching you more so out of curiosity, while the other one was focused on studying your every movement and interaction with the boy in front of you.

the boy who was having a bit of a difficult time capturing your attention again.

you couldn't focus on a single word he was saying. you knew he was telling a story, and you could tell it was supposed to be funny based on the way that he was laughing. unfortunately, your mind was too busy being far too aware of the boy you had been thinking about all day now casually sitting just a few feet away.

having caught on to your behavior as well, wooyoung rolled his tongue around in his mouth and tried not to scoff. his eyes darted over to the next table, watching as a certain occupant quickly averted his eyes away as if he were not just staring over at you.

wooyoung couldn't help himself. now he was curious.

he reached a hand over across the table to rest on top of yours, now finally succeeding in grasping your attention. your cheeks were most definitely pink now, but not for the reason others may assume.

you were worried about what soobin would think.

"uh- what? what are you...?" you could only stutter as you questioned his action, not wanting to seem rude if you immediately pulled your hand away.

"i'm just trying to make sure you're listening to me," wooyoung smiled at you, taking a brief glance towards the next door table again.

as expected, soobin was fidgeting in his seat and failing in trying to remain casual. his head was practically rolling back and forth on his neck as he fought to not glare at wooyoung's hand on yours. even his friends had taken notice and were mixed emotions between amused, embarrassed, and disappointed in their crazy friend.

eventually wooyoung pulled his hand away, but now he succeeded in gaining all of your attention - as well as a certain someone else's.

whenever he told you more stories about him and his friends, he'd make you laugh. every time he made you laugh, he also made someone else more upset. although, if wooyoung was being honest, he really just found the situation more amusing.

by the time you all called it a night and were ready to leave the restaurant, the table beside you coincidentally happened to have the same thought. this ended up bestowing a very interesting situation upon you.

"should i take you home now?" wooyoung asked you, a casual hand grazing your arm.

you were about to open your mouth and agree without a problem, but then another hand came up to gently grab your other arm. "hey, do you need a ride home?"

now you were left with a gaping mouth, looking awkwardly between one boy and the other. wooyoung did ask you first, but you also wanted to jump at the opportunity to be with soobin again. you missed him all day and you wanted nothing more than to be alone with him for at least one ride home before the day was over.

"i told wooyoung i'd go with him earlier," you finally spoke, not wanting to break your word from earlier in the night. instead, though, you felt as if you broke your own heart watching soobin's smile drop.

"right. sure, yeah, no problem," soobin tried to act casual, though failing rather miserably.

instead, he was more embarrassed. of course, he should have known you'd choose this guy over him. he clearly had much more to offer you, and, for all soobin knew, he was probably already your boyfriend and just wanted to be alone with you.

before soobin could walk away, you quickly reached for the end of his shirt to keep him still for one more second.

"can i see you tomorrow? for lunch?"

soobin squeezed his lips together to attempt to hide his excitement, his dimples being the dead giveaway at how happy your small request just made him. "of course, i'll see you tomorrow then."

biting your lip to suppress your own joy, you both finally went your separate ways.

soobin headed off with his friends to the bus stop while the rest of your friend group said goodbye and dispersed into separate cabs. you and wooyoung were left on your own once again.

as the two of you were standing around and waiting for another cab to arrive, wooyoung let out a sigh and looked over at you with a soft smile. "you like that soobin guy a lot, huh?"

caught off guard, you found yourself sputtering for a response. you wanted to deny his words, but you also didn't want to lie. you wanted to say yes, but you also didn't want to hurt him.

"it's pretty obvious, i'm sorry," he laughed, now causing you to freeze. your head then spun around to stare wide-eyed at the playfully smirking boy beside you. you had so many questions.

were you really that obvious? could soobin tell? does he think soobin feels the same?!

"if it helps, i think i'm the only one that could tell," wooyoung suddenly wanted to reassure you before you could blurt out any of your questions, laughing at the way it looked like you were practically on the verge of sweating.

your hands came up to cover you face, allowing you to groan into them. "i'm so sorry, wooyoung. it's all still very new to me."

"hey, don't be sorry. we can't help who we like," wooyoung reassured you again, resting a gentle hand atop of your head. "if you hurry now, you should catch up to him before the bus arrives."

your head shot up from your hands in alert, staring at the boy in genuine surprise and confusion. "no- no i couldn't possibly just leave you. i told you earlier-"

"i know you said i could take you home, but i think it's important that you go with someone you actually like," wooyoung interrupted you, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

your emotions were so torn. your heart was pounding at the thought of running to be with soobin, but you also felt terrible at the thought of abandoning wooyoung like this. he deserved so much better, and you wished that you could have been that for him.

"wooyoung...," your words trailed off, still unsure of what decision you should make.

he was giving you the opportunity, and you so desperately wanted to take it, but not at the cost of hurting him.

"hey, stop it, don't worry about me," wooyoung now laughed. his hands had to physically turn you around and begin giving you a gentle shove in the direction that soobin and his friends had walked off to. "just let me know when it works out, okay?"

turning around only to give wooyoung a tight hug, you thanked him one last time before finally taking off after soobin.

you most definitely felt insane, but you didn't care.

you wanted to see soobin.

・❥・

"you know, in retrospect, you don't play hard to get with a girl like that," yeonjun randomly stated while the five of them were waiting, now thinking back to you after he finally saw who you were.

soobin slowly turned his head to glare at the idiot he regretfully called his friend. he couldn't promise that yeonjun would make it back to the dorm alive at this rate.

"in my opinion, she's way out of your league," beomgyu chimed in next, now causing soobin to starting bonking his head against the pole of the bus stop.

he hated them all.

"do you think that guy with her was her boyfriend?" kai asked curiously, now looking at each of them for an answer.

this was the question soobin did not want to hear, and he dreaded even more ever hearing the answer to it.

much to everyone's surprise, though, taehyun was the one to answer. "he's not her boyfriend, but he's definitely into her."

this new turn of conversation piqued all of their interest, most especially soobin's - simply from hearing that he wasn't your boyfriend alone.

"what's your evidence?" yeonjun questioned, being just as drawn into the topic as everyone else.

"well, there was a lack of physical affection on her part," taehyun explained first, thinking back to how nervous and uncomfortable you were just from when he had tried to hold your hand.

even soobin could agree, smirking in pride as he thought how easy and comfortable it was for you to hold his hands.

"also, i would bet that they just met. he kept telling her stories about himself, so they're clearly still getting to know each other."

in this instance, soobin would only have to take taehyun's word for it. he was too busy focusing on how you both were acting with each other to actually hear words that were coming out of his mouth. all he cared about was what you said and when you laughed.

"hey, soobin, is that y/n over there?"

kai's question had soobin sitting up straight, turning his entire body around to indeed spot you walking over all by yourself.

his heart was pounding as he stood up. he always found you beautiful, but seeing you now choosing him? you looked absolutely ethereal.

as soobin went to go meet you, the other four boys collectively agreed to walk a little ways down the street and simply call for a cab. they figured soobin would thank them later when he found out they willingly chose to leave you two alone.

of course, unbeknownst to the lovesick boy, the condition included the four of them eventually coming together to officially meet you soon.

"y/n, what happened? what're you doing here?" soobin asked the second you were close enough.

"oh, wooyoung ... a friend called him about an emergency, so i let him take the cab," you lied, not daring to tell soobin the real reason.

not yet, at least.

if soobin was being honest, though, he didn't quite catch what your reason was. all he cared about was that you were here in front of him. whatever the reason was, you were here with him and no one else.

"you can wait with my friends and ...," when he turned around, soobin trailed off when he realized the bus area was completely empty. "or not."

when the hell did his friends even leave? of course, he then remembered he didn't care.

because now he got to be alone with you.

you both walked back over to the bench, sitting together practically shoulder-to-shoulder and forgetting entirely what personal space was. neither of you were bothered, though, considering you both missed each other so much just from not spending one day together.

"so your friends ditched you, hm?" you questioned, biting back the smile on your face. you couldn't help but to wonder if they happened to leave for any other particular reason..

"they tend to do that to me a lot," soobin chuckled, this being one of very few times where he was actually happy that they did.

"which one was yeonjun?" you asked him curiously, picturing each of the boys that you remembered sitting at the table with him.

"yeonjun was the one with black hair sitting to my right," soobin explained, allowing you to picture them. "kai is the blonde, taehyun is the serious one with brown hair, and beomgyu has the longer hair."

that reminded you that beomgyu must have been the one that you had run into back in the theater. this also allowed you to remember that kai and taehyun must have been the other two that were with him.

"were you and yeonjun there at the theater too?" you asked him next, turning to look up at him.

you noticed soobin's cheeks turn a light shade of pink, but you couldn't be sure as to why. "uh, yeah, we just went to ... to a different movie, so we weren't all together."

you nodded, taking his word for it. there was no reason why he would lie about something so little.

this lead you to start thinking about how crazy fate was. despite the weirdness that was earlier in the day, you and soobin still managed to find your way to each other. you had to bite your lip and turn your entire face away, not wanting soobin to see just how red your face had gotten.

fate??? maybe you were getting a little too ahead of yourself ...

as you were trying to make up an excuse about why you had left work earlier - opting for a simple 'feeling sick' - you then took notice of the bus finally making its way over.

"come on, time to get you home," soobin smiled cutely, his hand casually intertwining with yours.

the butterflies found their way home back in your stomach, and your heart fluttered as if it had wings of its own. it still surprised you just how much soobin affected you, yet he still couldn't see it for himself.

you both settled on the seat at the back of the bus, your hands still intwined together as one.

though neither of you spoke it out loud, you both felt just how perfectly your hands fit together. nothing else felt as right as it did when it was the two of you.

feeling a bit tired now by this late in the evening, you lazily closed your eyes and allowed your head to rest on soobin's shoulder. the day had most definitely been a long one, but all you cared about was that soobin was beside you now.

the trust and comfort he radiated was enough to lull you to sleep, regardless of being in a public setting.

"i missed you, binnie," you mumbled sleepily, cuddling closer to the boy beside you as you allowed the exhaustion to overcome your entire body.

you just barely missed soobin's entire breath leaving his body, and he was genuinely surprised that you couldn't feel his heart beating entirely out of his chest with how close you were to him.

he adored you so much. he wished nothing more than to just be able to confess to you here and now, hoping that you would say yes and be his.

of course, he still knew better. he at least wanted you to be awake when he did tell you. for now, instead, he allowed his own head to rest on your own and squeezed your hand gently.

"i like you so much, y/n," he mumbled on top of your head.

he seriously couldn't wait anymore.

he needed to confess to you. and he needed to do it soon.

previous | masterlist | next

a/n:

AHHH I MISS WRITING FLUFF WITH SOOBIN AND Y/N !!

i'm sorry this update took a bit longer, and it's not really that great either, but it's my fault !! i celebrated my birthday this past weekend and i kept writing bits and pieces sporadically, so the flow isn't very consistent because i couldn't keep my ideas together. i promise the next part will be much better <3 pls don't be too disappointed !!

but anywayyyy i hope you all still enjoy what i have so far and look forward to more fluff coming soon :,) <3 i missed fluff so much

taglist:

@sha-aesthic @wccycc @yjusei @ihrtgyu @strawberrydaichi @seodami @sparkswhoz @o934pm @dongmeiii @cannedturtle @intrrverted @fanfangying1304 @n0tprettybutt1red @human-misery @baekberrie

[ bold = couldn't be tagged :( ]

#tomorrow x together #tomorrow x together imagines #tomorrow x together imagine #txt #txt imagine #txt imagines #txt fluff #choi soobin #choi soobin x reader #soobin #soobin x reader #soobin imagines #choi soobin imagines #soobin fluff

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slavic-roots-western-mind · 7 months

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Backpack must-haves: Exam edition

My previous post covered the every day college backpack essentials, but exams usually have their own particular set of must-haves.

The last thing you need is to be frantically throwing random things inside your bag on the morning of the exam, when you could be taking the time to go over the main notes and to gather your thoughs and focus.

1. The pencil case

Depending on the uni, you can bring your bag inside the examroom and put it under your desk, or leave your bag outside and bring just a see-through pencil case into the exam room.

Regardless, bring a clear pencil case, or a plastic bag or a ziplock bag, and be sure to have enough working pens (running out of ink in all pens is a re-occurring nightmare of mine), pencils, an eraser, sharpener, calculator, highlighters.

If in doubt, just ask your tutor few weeks before, or check your uni's exam policy.

2. Wallet.

Student ID, some cash for the bus ride back and a coffee with a quick snack, driver's license.

No need to bring every single piece of documentation, you can save that for later if applying or re-applying for a student visa if you currently are or will be an international student soon e.g. exchange student, applying for grad programs, summer programs etc.

3. Water bottle

Once again, a clear or see-through water bottle is the way to go, especially for winter exams. Maybe it's just me, but the dry winter month's have me coughing like there's no tomorrow. The only way I'm making it through is with throat lozenges, my tea thermos and water.

4. A jacket, hoodie, or something warm

Exam rooms are notoriously cold, so bring some sort of jacket. The last thing you need is to catch a cold and spend the next exam's red-eyed and sniffling.

5. Health and beauty case

This is a must bring regardless of where you go.

Tampons, pads, painkillers, any meds that you may need, deodorant, hand sanitizer, tissues etc.

This may seem like a tad too much, but trust me on this. It's better to be overprepared rather than underprepared.

6. A summary of the most important concepts/theories/formulas etc.

Should you study the morning of your exam, all the way until you enter the exam room or should you just chill and focus on keeping calm? A debated question, so any insights from the poll would be greatly appreciated.

Nonetheless, most people that I know still end up going over the concepts minutes leading up to the exam, or during their commute to uni, so bring a quick guide just in case.

Even if you don't use it, it's still good practise to write your notes out to remember and understand them better.

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theotherbuckley · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday

Tagged by: @wikiangela @fortheloveofbuddie @disasterbuckdiaz @wildlife4life 💖��

Okay so I’m mad because I just woke up to all these tags for WIP Wednesday only to realise it’s actually Thursday for me because time zones. Actually I feel like that should be a good thing it means it’s closer to the end of the week. Damn ignore my ramblings 😭.

So I haven’t had time to write any more Buck running fic stuff because uni has been crazy and I’m exhausted. But,, here’s some of a different fic which I have actually posted snippets before. It’s basically a depressing fic set in s5 when Maddie, Chim, and Eddie have left. I’ve written quite a lot of this fic a while ago but I’m not entirely happy with it. Alas, here it is.

Eddie gets shot on a Thursday. In broad daylight, and Buck is right there. And all he can do is watch. Eddie gets shot on a Thursday and Buck thinks that’s the moment it all started— when everything got bad again.

Because Eddie gets shot and Buck just stands there, frozen. With his blood splattered on his shirt, on his face, in his mouth. There is just something so wrong, he thinks, with knowing what his best friend’s blood tastes like before he even knows what his lips taste like, what his— It’s just all wrong.

Maybe it started before that, when he found out the truth about his entire existence. That he was just nobody. Just spare parts, created for a child that his parents might’ve actually loved. That he couldn’t even do the one thing he was made for; couldn’t even save his own brother.

It’s like his life finally made sense; why he was so screwed up. He was defective parts that nobody ever really wanted, just a means to an end, and he had failed at even that. So maybe it was then that things started getting bad again.

Or maybe it was the lawsuit, when nobody could even look him in the eye. Maybe it was when Eddie was yelling at him. You’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting.

Maybe it was the tsunami, where he lost Christopher. Sometimes he still wakes up screaming his name.

Or maybe it’s just that everyone is leaving. Again.

But no, he thinks, it was the shooting where everything just started crashing right back down.

Because Eddie was shot on a Thursday.

And now it’s months later and Buck still lies awake at 3am because he’s back there and he’s frozen and he’s watching his— Eddie get shot, 6 feet in front of him, and he’s just there and why wasn’t it him?

Why wasn’t it him?

Every time he closes his eyes it's all just red. Every time he closes his eyes he’s stuck watching as his best friend bleeds out on the road whilst he’s pushed to the ground by Captain Mehta and all he can do is just stare.

And Eddie’s reaching out to him, and people are screaming, he thinks, but for some reason it's all just so quiet. And he can’t do anything.

Except in his dreams Buck never does roll under the fire truck. He can’t move, can’t do anything except watch Eddie die.

And all he can think is why wasn’t it him.

Tagging: @honestlydarkprincess @eddiebabygirldiaz @eddiediaztho @jesuisici33 @your-catfish-friend @ladydorian05 @jeeyuns @bucksbirthmark @giddyupbuck @eowon @elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @housewifebuck @thewolvesof1998 @king-buckley @rainbow-nerdss @cal-daisies-and-briars <3 also anyone else who I missed or anyone who wants to share.

#wip wednesday #depressing Buck fic #911 abc #evan buck buckley #911 fandom #911 wip #911 fic #911 fanfic

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lululawrence · 1 year

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lululawrence's November 2022 Fic List

Previous Fic Lists / Lulu’s List Podcast Masterpost

Happy 28th! Here are the incredible fics I was able to read this month. As always, be sure to show your love and appreciation for all of the hard work our fandom authors have put into their fics with kudos, nice comments, and (when applicable) reblogging their fic posts!

What If It's Us? by @chloehl10 / lovelarry10 (73k, M, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, famous/non-famous, bookshop owner Harry, singer Louis, fan Harry, secret identity, kind of, flirting, angst, online bullying, angst with a happy ending, this fic was so lovely and such a great read, i couldn't put it down)

someone save me (if you will) by @zouisalmightie / the_taste_of_ink (4k, M, Harry/Louis, Wordplay fic, Avengers AU, Hawkeye Harry, Black Widow Zayn, Iron Man Niall, Hulk Liam, Captain America Louis, action packed, violence, tension, happy ending, this fic gripped me from the beginning trying to figure out what exactly was going on and how it would be taken care of it and it was just such an amazing read, the world building was fab in such few words)

(Help!) not just anybody by @uhoh-but-yeah-alright / yeah_alright (4k, M, Harry/Louis, Wordplay fic, accidental date, coworker Grimmy, ot4 mount a rescue mission, it's hilarious, and there's such a great twist)

Playing Games With You by @ireallysawanangel / crimsontheory (3k, NR, Harry/Louis, Wordplay fic, part 1 of a series, Uni AU, friends to lovers, ish?, this is pre-slash in this part, but you can see it building up, the setup has me SO excited to read the rest of the series, i can't wait to finish it)

false security by @jaerie / jaerie (2k, E, Harry/Louis, Wordplay fic, part 1 of a series, flower fairy AU, kidnapping, rape/non-con, dark fic, the set up and world building of this is WILD and so fascinating, once again i cannot wait to keep reading this series, it's going to be so great, I can just tell)

Love's Extraction by @iamasphodelknox / asphodelknox (4k, NR, Harry/Louis, Wordplay fic, Star Wars AU, kind of, it's adjacent for sure, it's in that world even if it isn't Star Wars proper, if that makes sense lol, this fic was just stellar I loved it so much omgosh i can't even explain all the things i loved)

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More Beautiful Than the Puzzle series by @ponymom-stuff / ponymom (7k, NR, Harry/Louis, Wordplay fic, Royal AU, cat herding, hahaha, famous/non-famous, secrets, this series was so fucking adorable and i loved the way everything was laid out and revealed to the readers, it was a lot of fun)

All Out of Love by @sun-tomato / SunTomato (33k, G, Harry/Louis, Big Bang fic, Soulmates, Cupid Harry, Cupid Niall, human Louis, supernatural fic, magic, holy shit the way the author created the entire world, and structured everything was fascinating and beautiful and heartbreaking and just, wow, angst, with a happy ending, but you do cry holy hell do you cry, at least i did lol, so fucking good)

Under a Bronze Moon series by @soidiallednine / soidiallednine (38k, M, Harry/Louis, Wordplay fic, I specifially read parts 2-6 this month, sci-fi AU, warring planets, Harry and Louis are enemies-ish, secret relationships, enemies to lovers, the journey they go on is truly incredible, action, danger, the worldbuilding is incredible, just all of it is so fucking incredible, it was one of my favorite stories i've read this year)

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#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #fic list #fic writer appreciation #november 2022 fic list

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dutchvanwinkle · 1 year

Text

Mr Van der Linde Pt. 1 - Dutch x Reader

OK I’m working on like a bagillion things atm but I wanted to get something out before the years end to prove that I’m alive and writing (those of you waiting on requests I promise I will get to them)

I’ve been sitting on this bitch for months and have a ton of ideas for it but I wanted to see if it was anyone’s cup of tea before I poured hours and hours into it but tbh i probs will either way hehe

Also I tried to make the location ambiguous but I’m a UK gyal and the UK uni experience is all I know so don’t shout at meeeee sorry

Also pt. 2 this will be slow updates fyi. But I am nothing if not a completionist so it will get finished eventually

Happy holidays to those celebrating! The fic is on ao3 if you prefer.

Summary: You meet John's father after your first term of university, and find your growing attraction to him difficult to ignore.

Word count: 8,248

Content warnings: Modern AU, age difference, alcohol, mentions of drug use

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You hated driving with John, he was far too reckless and half the time you were sure he wasn’t even paying attention to the road, but when compared to getting an overly expensive train or a stuffy coach, it was a no brainer. John’s warped view of the value for money, thanks to him growing up with an abundance of it, also played in your favour in that he refused to take any contributions for fuel.

After meeting John at a welcome party for your student accommodation, you soon bonded over growing up in a similar area - his house was just an hour on the train from you.

From then on, you’d often attend each other’s pre-drinks before nights out, and that soon led to you battling through your hangovers together the following day. You frequented his flat more often than your own by the end of the first semester, enjoying the company within it much more than that of yours. He and his childhood friend, Javier, had asked to be put together in their accommodation and he was always a lot of fun on nights out and super easy to get on with, and you discovered he’d taken the same course as you which saved you the worry of being alone in lectures. One of his other flatmates, Sean, had drove you insane when you first met him as he wouldn’t stop talking, but you soon grew to love him, too.

Abigail was another of his flatmates, and he made the dire mistake of pulling her on the very first night; making the living situation unbearably uncomfortable for everyone else, especially when the two made the event an “accidental” reoccurring theme. It was no secret that she was smitten the moment she met him, but John being John and John also being a university student he had no desire to enter anything serious, even if he did like her more than he let on.

You’d grown close to one of your own flatmates, Karen, and she often joined you on your trips to the flat across the hall, and after she’d drunkenly got with Sean on one of the nights out, being intoxicated became a requirement for her to visit the flat to calm her embarrassment. So, you all began smoking weed together on a regular occasion, and the small group became your favourite thing about university so far.

Although you were already saving money by getting a lift most of the way home, the day that John had wanted to return for the Christmas holiday only had expensive ticket options for the final leg of your journey on the train, but two days later was much cheaper and he’d kindly offered you a place in one of his spare rooms. You gladly accepted, eager to see how nice his house was and spend a bit of time with his younger sister, Tilly, who you’d only spoken to over facetime but whose dry sense of humour you found hilarious.

“Fuck, John, stop cutting people off,” you craned your neck backwards, watching the most recent victim of John’s erratic road presence throwing up the V’s at his car.

“Stop backseat driving,” he batted his hand, but as always there was no irritation in his relaxed raspy voice, one that was getting raspier by the day considering how much he smoked. If it wasn’t weed, it was cigarettes and oh there he goes lighting another.

“You do know this is why your car stinks, right?” you asked, cringing slightly at how careless he was even with his nice expensive vehicle.

“You’re starting to sound like Abigail,” he scoffed, taking an extended inhale from the cigarette and blowing the smoke at you for good measure, laughing in that signature wheeze of his when you recoiled.

Pushing the button to crank the window down, you leaned over and allowed the fresh air to fill your lungs now that you were back on normal roads.

The pair of you soon reached a more rural area, and John cleared his throat when he pulled into a gated entrance. You gawked at the property, once John had used his fob to open the gates to reveal a driveway filled with decorative stone leading up to a gorgeous big house.

“Shiiiiiit,” was all you could muster as you admired the beautiful brick and windows when you stepped out of the car.

“Yeah, yeah,” he dismissed, flicking his cigarette and leading the way to the front door.

You’d never seen a door so grand, dark wood that looked heavy and a golden lion's head holding the knocker. John fished his key from his pocket as you rang your fingers over it and didn’t care for your interest when he flung the door open.

“’m back!” he called into the house, which somehow felt homely despite how large it was. It was only a few moments before Tilly came charging down the stairs and flung her arms around him. You smiled as the pair embraced, one of the few brother-sister duos you knew that didn’t hate each other. They were extremely close, and you’d found out after a few weeks the reason why.

John’s mother had died when Tilly was only young, and your heart ached for the two kids but thankfully it brought them closer and they always had each other’s backs, with the guidance of their father, who had understandably been broken by her passing, along with their older brother.

Tilly greeted you too, and you shook her hand as she bounced in the direction of the kitchen. “Dad’s in the back room watching the game with Arthur,” she informed the two of you as you followed in her direction. You’d heard a lot about Arthur, John’s older brother, and had the privilege of seeing a photo of him once. He didn’t live at the house, instead with his boyfriend, Charles, and if you’d have known he was going to be there today you might have made a bit more effort.

You tried to be subtle as you took in the gorgeous room, black granite counter tops and high-end appliances only a backdrop for the big family kitchen that boasted an island in the middle with stools pulled up to it as it functioned as a breakfast bar too.

As Tilly helped herself to something from the cupboards, you followed behind John to the adjoining room where you could hear noise from the TV in the form of a football commentator.

You weren’t often nervous, not really, but something about this big house made you wonder what sort of man owned it and managed to make it warm and inviting while single-handedly raising his three kids. And when you saw him, lounged back on his sofa, wrapping his long ringed fingers around the neck of his cold beer bottle that paused on its way to his lips as his eyes landed on you, you had to gulp.

And when your name rolled of his tongue, that voice so deep and rich, you tightened your grip on your bag and quietly sucked air into your lungs as you smiled at him coolly. That didn’t help either, just brought your attention to the faint smell of tobacco in the air mixed with cedarwood and some delightful cologne that you wanted to inhale even more of.

But christ that’s John’s father you’re thinking about and you’re stood there like a moron and he’s waiting for a response. “Mr Van der Linde,” you swallowed. “Thanks for letting me stay, your home is lovely.”

John tutted loudly at your ass-kissing display, but you didn’t miss him shrinking slightly when his father turned his attention to him.

“I see you’ve not developed any manners while you’ve been away,” he tipped his chin down at the man who now gave off the aura of a boy, before looking back at you. “Thank you, miss. Please make yourself at home.”

You nodded and swallowed again, hoping it wasn’t noticeable to anyone else but God your mouth felt so wet all of a sudden. He was John’s father, alright, in possession of the same rugged charm held by his son, but much more refined and much less boyish. He shifted slightly in his seat, propping his leg up on the L-shaped sofa that he’d claimed the corner of. You darted your eyes away, reminding yourself not to look between his legs but wishing you could because those tailored black trousers did wonders for him.

“That’s Arthur,” John pointed lazily at the other man in the room, and you hadn’t even looked at him yet, but you were glad for something else to focus on. He was also a treat to look at, even more so in the flesh and you wondered what it was about this family that produced these kinds of men because you’d never encountered anything like it and now here you were in a room with three of them.

“Nice to meet you, Arthur,” you smiled and the man nodded in acknowledgement, nudging his beer upwards slightly.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Mr Van der Linde loosen the collar of his crisp white shirt, that’d been rolled up to reveal his forearms as a substitution for changing out of his work clothes to make himself comfortable.

“Will the two of you be joining us, son?”

You looked to John, part of you hoping he’d say yes but part of you desperate for any excuse to leave the room so you could breathe. John opted for the latter option, muttering something about being hungry and tired and wanting to settle in after the drive and Arthur asked when he planned on telling them all about his life at university, for him to just mutter later as he departed the room, and you quickly offered a smile to the two gentlemen before following him out.

“I’ll let you pick a room before we get the bags,” John began the walk up the stairs and you grunted behind him.

“Pick? You mean there’s more than one?”

He shrugged, as he always does when he felt uncomfortable discussing his financial situation. Half the time, you thought he hated having money, but you supposed it was more his manifested embarrassment over how much it set him apart from other people. Nobody would guess if they didn’t know, both due to his mannerisms and his insistence on often wearing the same t-shirt for a week straight.

“Well, where’s your room?” you asked, thinking that picking whichever was closest to him was the safest bet.

John pointed up, before walking towards a door which when opened, revealed another small flight of stairs. “Mine’s the attic. You’ve got the choice of that one,” he pointed at a door in front of you to the left, “and that one,” he pointed behind you at a second door, before making his way up the stairs to dump the first of his stuff.

You looked between the doors and decided to investigate the first one. It was bigger than your room at home, decorated in white and duck egg blue with a large double bed in the centre. The theme was the ocean, a beautiful painting above the bed depicting a grand ship on a calm sea. You’d be more than happy to stay here, hell a sofa would do you fine, but you still gave the other room a look even if out of pure nosiness.

The second room was warmer, dark wooden furnishings with an accent of a pretty mustard colour. The double bed was tucked into the corner beside the window, looking out over the garden and countryside beyond. There was no theme to this room, but a few decorations appeared to be antiques. You dropped your bag by an old-looking gramophone and ran your finger over the brass horn, marvelling at something so pretty being hidden away in a spare room. You peered at the disc inside, making out Tchaikovsky in faded lettering and reached your hand out to turn the crank, but recoiled when you realised you’d probably end up breaking it.

John’s feet thundering down the stairs prompted you to turn towards the doorway and he beckoned you to follow with the tilt of his head as he peered inside. You did, and the two of you made your way to the kitchen in search of food once your suitcase was safely situated in your room.

“There any dinner on?” he called to the next room.

“What’s it look like to you?” Arthur called back and John grumbled something about him being a smartarse.

“Half time is in five minutes, we’ll just order takeout if you decide what to get,” Mr Van der Linde called, prompting John to reach into a drawer and pull out a handful of menus.

“I forgot they even had paper menus,” you mused, leaning up beside John as you ran your hands over them to splay them out and get a good look. It all looked so good; you didn’t care which one they ordered from. “I’ll eat anything,” you announced and John huffed.

“You always do this. Can’t you pick for once?”

“I don’t mind! I could eat a horse I’m that hungry.”

John just rolled his eyes and scanned over the menus before pulling two of them out and presenting them in front of you. “Choose between these two then, I’ve whittled it down.”

You sighed, thinking that’s a fair deal as you looked between the two options: Indian or Thai.

Both were delightful, but you knew John would complain if you didn’t make the decision. After a minute of back and forth, you decided the tofu guay tiew was the most appealing and vocalised your choice of Thai.

“Dad’ll be happy,” he remarked, collecting up the other menus and unceremoniously jamming them into the drawer, “that’s his favourite.”

At the small sense of pride that filled your chest, you cursed yourself internally. Something about the man made you want to please him, an odd sensation for you since you usually could care less what other people thought. Besides, it was just a takeaway for Christ’s sake.

Shifting from the next room prefaced the two men that parted from it, expressions content and you assumed their team was winning. They were both so tall, because of course they were.

“Are you staying for dinner?” Mr Van der Linde asked Arthur who nodded as he deposited the beer bottles into the bin.

“Sure, I wanna hear all about little Johnny’s adventures,” he had a strong southern drawl, and proceeded to ruffle John’s hair who shoved him away in displeasure.

“Did you let our guest choose?” Mr Van der Linde then asked, raising his eyebrows at his other son before glancing at you with a small half-smirk.

John answered by reaching over the counter and handing him the menu, his eyes lighting up once he realised which one you’d chosen. “Good choice,” he hummed, not looking up at you and instead reaching into his pocket for his phone. “What does everyone want?”

“We can just use the app,” said John.

“No, I’ll call.”

John’s sigh caused the man to harden his gaze.

“It’s quicker over the phone,” he explained irritably.

“Dad’s an EOP,” John informed you.

“EOP?” Arthur repeated.

“Enemy of progress,” John responded, as though it was terminology even a baby should know, despite he himself only learning it from you a month ago.

“I am not,” the man grumbled. “Just don’t see the point of an app, is all.”

You smirked at the back and forth as Arthur rolled his eyes. “Someone just order the damn food,” he drawled.

Once everyone had ordered, including Tilly who it turns isn’t overly fond of Thai food but was quickly reminded by her father that she’d had free reign over the house and choice of takeout for three months, and it was only fair that her brother got to pick on his first night back. John teased her, saying that she’d become spoilt now that she was practically an only child.

“It should get here in time for the end of the game if we order and you collect it, otherwise we’ll have to wait an extra twenty. Up to you.”

“We’ll collect,” John answered without pause.

“You students really that hungry, huh?” Arthur chortled.

“I’m just excited to eat something that’s not instant noodles or beans on toast,” you hummed, thinking longingly about how much you’d missed a well-cooked meal.

“Or instant noodles on toast, in your case,” John teased.

At the looks of disgust directed at you, you huffed. “It’s nicer than it sounds!”

“That a thing you do often?” Arthur asked, more than intrigued by the strange diet of a student.

“Only when I fancy a change,” you shrugged and he scoffed, partially in disbelief and partially in amusement.

“Well, let us hope that your meal tonight is slightly more appealing,” Mr Van der Linde slid his phone back into his pocket, beckoning Arthur to follow him into the back room as the commentator announced the start of the second half.

You and John had left almost straight away to pick up the food, just to keep yourselves occupied, and thankfully it wasn’t long before you were back at his house and greeted with an already-set table including a couple bottles of wine.

It was a bit of performance getting everyone’s correct orders to them, but eventually you were all seated. Mr Van der Linde was at the head of the table (of course) with Arthur and John either side of him, you sitting next to John and Tilly sitting next to Arthur.

“Help yourselves to wine,” Mr Van der Linde gestured to the bottle of red and John didn’t need to be asked twice, pouring himself a large glass which his father eyed suspiciously.

John side-eyed you and laughed at your pursed expression. “She has a uh... an aversion to red wine,” he explained to the table.

You threw him a glare, embarrassed that he was bringing up your drunken tales from when you were learning your limits, even if you’re still yet to be mindful of them.

“Ha,” Arthur barked, “I’d like to hear that story.”

“Nobody is hearing that story,” you paused, “especially not while we’re eating,” you shuddered at the memory, looking at the delicious food in front of you and willing your brain to think about anything else.

“This is proper wine, not like that shit you students drink,” Mr Van der Linde huffed. “Just try a tiny bit.”

You obeyed, albeit hesitantly as you offered out your glass and John poured a mouthful in. Bracing yourself, you sipped it and tried to ignore the eyes around the table on you.

It tasted rich, smooth and warm on your throat and nothing like that red wine you’d experienced at university which was more closely related to window treatment. “Oh,” your tongue lapped slightly in your mouth, “that is nice.” You held your glass out again for John to fill and Mr Van der Linde chuckled to himself.

“I still want to hear some drunken tales,” Arthur took a sip of his own wine as you took another of yours.

“Well, I have plenty about John,” you smirked, forking some of your noodles into your mouth and nearly groaning at how good it tasted. Tilly’s eyes widened with intrigue.

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed, stomping his heel onto your toe under the table.

Your squeak turned into a laugh, and you raised your brows at him - I’ll keep your secrets if you keep mine.

He shifted his attention back to the food, knowing he had much more to lose in the present circumstance, and your agreement with one another was settled.

“How are your lectures, son?”

John shrugged. “Fine.”

“What are you learning about?”

You smirked around your next sip of wine, knowing that John hadn’t got a clue about the contents of his course given his terrible attendance to his lectures.

“Uh... Ethics.”

“Anything else?”

John attempted to remember the names of the modules he’d done the bare minimum for, but it didn’t seem to fool Mr Van der Linde one bit. He had mentioned that the push to study philosophy had come from his father, and unlike most kids that did something because their parents wanted them too, John didn’t seem to care. He much preferred being out of doors, with animals or working with his hands. Above anything, John preferred not working. So, a three-year degree, paid for by his father where he could slack off for a little while longer was more than welcome.

The way his father looked at him, you could tell John would be getting a talking to in a more private setting at a later date, but he instead turned his attention to you in favour of not lowering the mood around the table.

“Do you have more of an interest in your course than John does in his?” he asked you, his voice not entirely cleared of his disappointment and John noticed it too, shrinking his shoulders slightly.

“I suppose so,” you said brightly, hoping to alleviate the tension.

“You’re studying philosophy like John?”

“Oh, no,” you sipped at your wine, feeling as though you were being interviewed for your place on said course all over again. “Computer Science.”

He raised his eyebrow in surprise and Arthur hummed to vocalise how impressed he was. “Smart girl,” Mr Van der Linde said thoughtfully before taking a bite of food.

“She’s only interested in it because she has to be,” John scoffed, and you wondered if part of him was jealous at the praise you were getting that he wasn’t. “She’s got a scholarship,” he clarified.

You cleared your throat, embarrassed and slightly irritated at John for mentioning it. “I have to keep my attendance above eighty percent,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

“A scholarship? My my,” Mr Van der Linde brought his glass to his lips.

You just shook your head. Truthfully, you wouldn’t have even been able to go were it not for the scholarship; it would have been far too expensive, so you didn’t really have a choice in the matter if you wanted a place on the course.

“Do you know what you want to do for work?”

“Not really, suppose I’ll just go into software - that’s where most of the jobs are,” you took another sip of the wine and found your glass empty. “I guess I won’t go into app development, though.”

Even though you could slap yourself for trying to banter with him and only coming up with something so pathetic, he chuckled into his glass and his eyes were warm as they bore into yours when he licked a stray droplet from his bottom lip as he set the glass down.

You could swear you clenched.

“You always get flushed after wine,” John commented with amusement, refilling your glass before his own.

“I’m not,” you said quietly, holding your knuckles to your cheek and yes, your skin was burning. You grumbled and dipped your head, the spicy flavours of your dish now something you were all too aware of.

Mr Van der Linde just observed you, something unreadable on his face or maybe the wine had gone to your head and you just no longer had the capacity to distinguish emotions.

“Well,” he wiped a napkin over his mouth and sat back in his chair, his plate completely emptied of food. “I’m glad you’re around to keep John in check.”

“She isn’t as sensible and innocent as she looks,” John said over a full mouthful and Arthur tutted at his lack of table manners.

“That so.” Mr Van der Linde wasn’t asking. He sipped at his wine.

“Sure I am,” you cleared your throat, finding your voice once again but having nothing more to say to defend yourself. You couldn’t deny that John had experienced you in a light that was more than ill-fashioned, thanks to the numerous substances you’d experimented with over your short friendship so far.

The conversation continued long after dinner finished, Tilly talking all about her new school year and it was clear how much her father and brothers adored her; looking at her with all the love in the world and your heart swelled at the display. Your head swelled too, and you stopped your alcohol consumption after your fourth glass of wine, knowing you’d have a fierce headache in the morning.

Unfortunately, the conversation didn’t turn to the topic of Mr Van der Linde, and in your drunken haze you couldn’t stop your mind wandering as you thought about him as he sat there, a soft grin and slightly heavy eyelids following the wine and beer he’d drank that day with a hearty meal to top it off. You desperately tried to keep your gaze on whoever was talking, and for the past twenty minutes it’d been mainly Arthur. He briefly mentioned the business Dutch owned (what the business was, you had no idea) with another man, Hosea, his most trusted friend and colleague.

None of you had realised how close to midnight it was, and you rubbed at your eyes once Arthur pointed it out and called for a taxi to take him home. A yawn and a stretch later, you stood to excuse yourself too.

“Thanks again for dinner, Mr Van der Linde,” you said, picking up your cutlery, plate, and glass and loading them into the dishwasher.

“Please,” his voice came from right behind you and you stifled a gasp as you turned. John and Tilly were saying their goodbyes to Arthur at the door, but Mr Van der Linde was right next to you and god did he smell good.

And god, were you drunk.

“Call me Dutch,” he crooned, loading his own dishes beside yours.

All you could think to respond with was a nod. “Alright, thanks. Dutch.”

His brow softened at hearing his name on your tongue and he allowed himself the slight indulgence of wandering his eyes down your form as you walked away, clearly trying to hide in your walk how quickly the wine had gone to your head. He was in no position to judge, attributing his interest in his son’s pretty friend to nothing more than a drunken lapse of judgement that would go no further than that.

Your mouth was so dry.

The room span a little as you opened your eyes, but the headache wasn’t as bad as some you’d had previously, thankful that it was still dark out and you didn’t have to deal with any blinding lights. Rolling over within the comfort of the bed, which you could tell was dressed with a very expensive sheet and duvet set, you tilted your phone that sat charging on the nightstand and checked the time. 03:43.

Lord knows why you didn’t bring a glass of water to bed, or at the very least have some before you went to sleep, but you needed some right now and sat up to swing your feet onto the floor.

The house was still warm, and you ran your hand over a radiator in passing to find that it was on a low heat, so no wonder. You wore your plain, oversized, grey t-shirt and some underwear that you always referred to as your ‘boy shorts’. Drunken you had decided to be a little modest, at least.

(Mostly) sober you didn’t follow that trend, venturing onto the landing without pulling on some trackies, saying to yourself that you’d only be a moment anyway, so it was no matter.

You tiptoed down the stairs, thankful for the minimum creaking of the floorboards and made your way to the kitchen, the tiles cold on your bare feet.

There were a lot of cabinets, and while it felt rude to rummage through them you didn’t have much choice unless you wanted to lean over and drink straight from the tap, which was a much worse position to be caught in should someone see you. You eventually found the cupboard with the glasses and mugs, and after pulling out a pint glass you filled it up and gulped it down within seconds.

You did the same thing again, and as you were halfway done with your second glass a dim light was flicked on and you almost choked on your drink.

“Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Turning, you held your hand to your mouth to mask the massive gulp of water you held in it, and you swallowed it down as gracefully as you could, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you cleared your throat to greet Dutch.

“It’s no problem,” you shook your head. “Sorry, did I wake you?"

He shook his head too, dismissively, and you didn’t miss his eyeline drop to your legs before back at your face.

“Shit,” you muttered, moving to hide your bottom half behind the island and he smirked.

“Don’t worry about it.”

But obviously you did, you’d known him shy of twelve hours and he’d just found you in his kitchen dressed the way you were and he’d probably seen half of your ass when you were turned the other way.

You glanced down at yourself by uncomfortably.

He let you fester for a moment under his smirk, before shrugging off his night gown to reveal his broad and surprisingly muscular chest, black hairs decorating it as well as his stomach. “Here,” he handed it out to you over the counter, leaving himself in just his red and black checked bottoms.

You took it without thinking, most of your brain power allocated to the task of not staring and you looked at the garment in your hands. “You don’t have to -”

“It’s fine.” He looked almost bored of your apologetic demeanour, something you realised he’d seen a lot of from you. You took the robe and wrapped it around yourself, the softness of it making you want to curl up but not quite as much as that scent did.

“Thanks,” you mumbled and he nodded. “You don’t have any painkillers, do you?” you asked, feeling like an immature teenager that couldn’t handle her drink. “Just in case.”

“Of course.” He moved round the counter and opened a drawer, tutting at the creased-up menus that jammed it and you did your best to hide your amusement. A rattle from the packet later, he pushed two out and offered them to you, and you held your hand out for him to drop them in. You popped them in your mouth and leaned your head back to gulp down some water.

He stared at your neck as you did so, but ripped his attention away when you brought your head back down.

“Is your head hurting?” he asked, stepping towards you and holding his hand to your forehead while brushing your hair away soothingly.

“Oh no, not really,” you swallowed. “It’s just in case it does in the morning.”

“I see,” he said plainly, casually returning his arm to his side.

“Thanks... again.”

Leaning back on the counter behind him, he crossed one foot over the other and offered you a gentle smile. You took another few sips, emptying your glass.

You glanced from Dutch to the sink and back to Dutch, before making your way over to fill up again. Now he was right next to you, silently observing and you didn’t face away from the sink as you drank down some more water. You could feel how warm he was, it radiated from his chest, and you were glad to have sobered up because you were certain drunken you would’ve just leaned into it, and how awful would that be.

Awful. Terrible. Definitely not wonderful.

Gulping down the rest of the glass, you finally felt satisfied and filled up once more so you could bring some it to bed with you. You turned to the man beside you, who did nothing other than blink.

“Good night, Mr Van der Linde.”

“Good night, miss.”

You walked out of the kitchen, remembering you hadn’t called him Dutch like he’d asked but supposing it wasn’t a big deal and you couldn’t think too long on it without the image of him topless crept back into your mind.

He’s John’s dad.

Shaking your head to hopefully rid it of your thoughts, you pushed open the door to your room and closed it gently before climbing into bed and curling in on yourself, keeping his nightgown wrapped around you.

Despite it being winter, it was too hot when you woke.

It was no surprise, given the heating was on and you were wearing Dutch’s robe and had a thick duvet draped over you. You kicked it off, star-fishing and grimacing at the sweat that’d pooled on your lower back.

09:07.

You brought up your messages with John.

Going to get a shower if you don’t mind.

John was mostly hit and miss with his sleeping schedule, sometimes he’d be up at the crack of dawn and other times he’d sleep in until mid-afternoon. Today, you were thankfully he’d been an early riser.

Knock yourself out.

You stayed still for a moment, before sliding out of the bed and unzipping your suitcase to find your toiletries bag. Not wanting to change into anything that was clean, you opted for keeping Dutch’s nightgown on since you were only walking across the hall.

But when you did, and reached your hand out to open the bathroom door, you could hear the shower on from inside. You frowned and turned, in time for Tilly to depart from her room to the right.

“Oh, John’s just gone in,” she informed you.

“Fucker,” you grumbled and she tilted her head at you in questioning. “I just told him I was getting a shower.”

She giggled apologetically, her eyes shifting to look behind you at the sound of a door opening. You turned. Dutch. You hadn’t realised the room next to yours was his.

“You’re welcome to use my ensuite,” he yawned, patting Tilly’s arm as she passed him to go downstairs.

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t.”

“Right,” you nodded. “Thank you.”

“There’s no shower in there,” he leaned against the door frame, folding his arms over his now (unfortunately) covered chest. “Just a bath, but I can draw you one up no problem.”

A bath. God, you missed baths. Your accommodation only had crappy showers that were unbearably inconsistent with their water pressure and temperature.

“I’m sure I can wait,” you shrugged, not wanting to trouble him even a little.

“John’ll be at least 20 minutes,” he pointed to the door with disappointment, “bath’ll be full in ten.”

You swallowed, now feeling like it’d be rude of you to say no. “O-Okay, thanks. But I can run it.”

“Please, allow me. On account of my idiot son,” he scratched the back of his scalp lazily.

You huffed a laugh, not wanting to oppose him anymore and gave in. “Alright, I appreciate it.”

Dutch nodded, disappearing into his room and you busied yourself back in yours while you waited. You were fiddling with the gramophone again when he rapped at your open door.

“You just turn the crank,” he informed you.

“Oh, yeah, I didn’t want to break it.”

He huffed in amusement, meandering over and stopping next to you to wind it up.

You smiled fondly, as the ever-familiar Dance of The Swans began playing.

“Swan Lake,” you hummed, more to yourself than Dutch but he turned to you with his eyebrows raised.

“You like ballet?”

“Love it. Used to take lessons when I was younger, not that I was any good,” you snorted. “Swan Lake was always my favourite.”

His smile was warm, and eyes intrigued. “Do you go to see the shows often?”

“Not as often as I’d like, it’s been a couple years actually.” Life as a student didn’t often allow room for the luxuries of tickets to the ballet.

Dutch nodded thoughtfully. “Well, your bath is ready.”

You followed him out the room, the song reaching its crescendo and fading out in your ears as the two of you walked further away from it. He opened the door to his bedroom, motioning for you to enter.

“There’s a speaker in there if you want to put on any music, John says it’s Bluetooth or something.”

God, he’s adorable.

He’s also John’s father goddamnit.

“Thank you,” you cleared your throat, walking past him and through the next open door, stopping at the frame.

“Take your time,” he hummed after you and you nodded in appreciation as you closed the door. You'd wanted to sneak a peek at his room but couldn’t very well do so with him watching you. You dropped your things on the floor and locked the ensuite, turning to the pristine bathroom that felt warm and cosy despite the fact it was mostly grey, the floor slate and the standalone bath by the small window at the end.

The smells inside the room were wonderful, and you peered into the steaming tub and to your surprise it was filled with bubbles, the water a shade of lavender and you were impressed that he even had the supplies to make such a delightful bath.

He’d even lit a candle for you.

You shrugged off his robe and hung it on the back of the door, taking a second to smell it and make sure it didn’t now reek of your sweat. Thankfully, it didn’t.

It was the best bath you’d ever had. You’d played some of your favourite relaxing music and looped through an entire album before you cracked your eyes open, realising how long you’d sat in the warmth as your hangover dissolved away.

Giving the bath a little once over with the scourer and bathroom spray you found under the sink once the water was out, you rubbed your nice-smelling moisturiser over your skin and dressed in your clothes for the day; feeling miles better than you had done a few hours previous.

You only allowed your eyes to rake over Dutch’s bedroom briefly, dark mahogany furnishings and an extremely inviting king-sized bed with silk sheets in the centre of the room. The only think you didn’t like was how eerily tidy it was. You left quickly.

The scent of something sweet greeted you and you cringed slightly upon seeing the hands of the fancy kitchen clock reading the time of 10:25. Whoops.

Nobody seemed to mind, greeting you as John and Tilly sat at the breakfast bar while Dutch cooked over the stove. You flicked John’s ear as you passed him for stealing your shower, although you weren’t really that bothered since the alternative was much more desirable. He rasped his laugh, as usual, and you could tell he’d just had his morning cigarette, though you suspected he was missing his weed that he’d usually smoke on a Saturday morning.

“You were pretty wasted last night,” he slung his arm over you, and you pressed your forehead into his shoulder.

“I wasn’t that bad,” you mumbled into the fabric of his hoodie that you’d borrowed on more than one occasion.

He vibrated with a laugh, resting his head on top of yours and you pondered which one of you had really been that drunk, considering he was showing signs of a strong hangover; he was always very snuggly after a particularly heavy night. “Hair of the dog later?”

“You’re going out tonight?” Tilly asked and John looked to you.

“If we don’t find anything else to do, probably. We did say we were only going to go if Javi went anyway.”

“And is he?”

“Not sure,” you hummed, shifting to lay your head on John sideways (he was surprisingly comfortable given his lean frame) and pulling out your phone to find no new messages from Javier.

Thoughts on tonight?

You set your phone on the counter, not expecting a reply until much later when he finally joined the land of the living.

“We could go on a walk?” Tilly asked sweetly and John groaned.

“A walk,” you jabbed his side, “would be lovely. Maybe in a few hours when John’s recovered.”

“Coming, dad?”

Dutch cleared his throat, seemingly very focused on his cooking and slung the tea towel over his shoulder. “Uh... Perhaps. It’s colder than it looks out there.”

He brought two bowls over, one filled with fresh berries and another with melted chocolate. You groaned in delight and sat up from John, peering at the selection.

When the bowl of chopped banana arrived along with lemon juice and sugar, Dutch allowed himself a glance in your direction and his lips turned up at the sight of you eagerly eying the food.

He finally brought over the pancakes, sauce, and fresh orange juice before seating himself beside Tilly.

You salivated at the display in front of you, the best cure for a hangover that wasn’t quite the same when you’d made it back in your flat. “Thanks so much, Dutch,” you hummed, beginning to stack your pancakes with toppings.

“It’s my pleasure,” he chuckled, pouring out a cup of coffee.

Internally, John briefly questioned when you’d gotten to a first name basis with his dad but didn’t give it much thought to it and soon his full focus was on the food in front of him.

“I got a load of washing,” he chewed his last mouthful after pretty much inhaling his breakfast, washing it down with a glass of orange juice.

“You know where the laundry room is,” Dutch countered calmly to which John scoffed and stood to grab his washing that’d accumulated over the past few weeks. “Do you want to wash anything, miss?”

“Oh,” you swallowed your juice, remembering your suitcase full of clothes that needed washing. “It’s fine, I do have some but I was just going to do it when I got home.”

“Nonsense. When John’s finished you can put a load on.”

You shrugged. “Alright, suppose I may as well.”

Later that day, Dutch called up the stairs to let you know the washing machine was free and you ambled downstairs after separating your clean clothes from those that needed washing. He directed you to the laundry room and you placed your suitcase on the dryer and opened it, deciding that one load should be enough. You looked at his fancy washing machine, slightly uncertain on how to get it going.��

As though reading your mind, he appeared in the doorway and cleared up your confusion. You turned to thank him and found his eyes cast down to your pile of clothing – and you were mortified to see your underwear right at the top. In an attempt to play it cool, you looked back to him and he gave you a smile, one that had you questioning if he’d even been looking or if it was just a figment of your imagination. You returned his expression, turning back to desperately try and remember what he’d just told you about how to work the appliance and you leaned over to turn a dial and pretend you knew what you were doing. You breathed a sigh of relief when the door clicked shut after an extended moment, and dumped your pile of clothes in.

Unfortunately, the weather was both cold and rainy by the afternoon, squashing all hopes Tilly had of going on a walk. She made you promise that when you next came round, you’d join them on one and you were reminded that you had to leave tomorrow but the prospect of returning was an exciting one. Incidentally, Javier had no desire to go out in the rain and so yours and John’s plans were cancelled too, but you went to the drive through for a late lunch that you’d both finished by the time you returned to his house.

Instead, you spent the rest of the day on the sofa with Tilly and John, flicking through Netflix and bundled under blankets. Dutch put you to shame by having a better social life and going out for beers with his friends that evening, but he made a lasagne to go in the oven when the three of you got hungry, and the entire thing was demolished in no time. Nursing a rather large food baby, you turned in at around 11pm.

“Are you going to come and watch?” John asked you after he informed the room that he'd be playing football with the guys on that dreary Sunday.

You glanced out the window and back to him with a frown. “It’s pouring rain. And I see you’re going back on your promise to give me a lift to the station.”

“I never promised nothing,” his expression told a different story; he’d just forgotten. “Dad’ll take you,” he gestured to his father who looked up from his phone.

“Course I will,” Dutch stated, and returned his attention to the device in his hand.

“Oh, it’s fine, I can get a taxi -”

His expression alone silenced you as he looked up once more, an eyebrow raised at you to stop protesting. “I insist,” he said after letting the silence hang in the air for a bit. You just nodded.

When John left an hour later, he gave you a big squeeze goodbye and you told him to at least do some revision for his exams in January, to which he countered that they didn’t even count to the final grade and you couldn’t really argue with him on that. With Tilly up in her room and a couple of hours to kill before you had to leave, you tried to find something to watch on TV but had no luck and sighed as you eyed your laptop beside you. May as well try and get some work done.

You begrudgingly pulled up the code for one of your assignments, but soon found yourself focused and began to make some decent progress.

“What on earth is that,” Dutch commented, leaning on the back of the sofa as he squinted at your screen over your shoulder.

Huffing a laugh, you craned your neck to look back at him. “Broken code,” you stated, before looking back at said code.

“Looks... interesting. How can you concentrate with this on?” he gestured to the TV.

“Oh,” you looked up, half forgetting it was even on. “It’s just background noise.”

“I see. Mind if I watch something?”

As if he was asking you, like it wasn’t his own house. “Course not.”

He moved round the sofa and dropped himself in the spot you’d first found him in, and he flicked through the channels until he landed on a cooking show, and you were reminded of how delightful your dinner was last night.

“That lasagne was so good,” you commented, not taking your gaze off the screen in front of you.

“I’m glad you liked it. Can I get you a drink?”

“Oh,” you blinked at him, “no, I’m fine thank you.”

You returned your attention back to your work and settled into the cushion of the sofa. It felt oddly normal to sit with Dutch, while he did have a very intimidating aura, he was also the kind of person you could sit in silence with and not have it be awkward. He lounged back, watching his show while you typed away on your keyboard.

Before you knew it, an hour and a half had passed, and you rubbed your eyes before closing your laptop.

“Ready to get going?”

You groaned and rested back, wishing you could curl up on the comfy sofa instead. “I guess,” you grumbled.

Dutch chuckled fondly. “You’re welcome back anytime.”

“Thanks Mr Van der Linde,” you smiled at him, and there was something about the way he was looking at you...

Or perhaps it was your imagination.

He cleared his throat as he stood, placing his warm hand on your shoulder as he passed and you almost leaned into it, but he was out the room before you could and all that remained was that scent of his. You shivered as you stood.

The short journey to the station was delightful, in Dutch’s fancy car that had heated seats and was pristinely clean. You only allowed yourself to look at him once, the way he sat back and leisurely stirred the wheel with one hand, his other one resting on his thigh.

“Have a good Christmas, miss,” he tipped his head as you turned to close the door, and you returned the sentiment.

You were actually glad to be leaving, a little fantasising was harmless but there was something about that look in his eye that had you wondering if perhaps it could be a reality. And, of course, that was territory you’d never venture into; sleeping with your friend’s dad, a man twice your age? Absolutely not. Time to enjoy Christmas at home and forget all about him.

When you couldn’t find one of your favourite pair of knickers, the lacy, dark grey ones, you tutted at yourself for forgetting them even though you were sure you’d packed them. But when you returned for second term at university, they weren’t anywhere to be found in your flat, either.

#dutch van der linde x reader #dutch van der linde x f!reader #dutch x reader #dutch van der linde #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #fanfiction #my stuff

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arcielee · 7 months

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Interview With a Writer

Thank you @theoneeyedprince for giving us some behind the scenes perspective on your brilliant writing 💜 As always, Interview With a Writer is my ongoing series of the talented souls on Tumblr and ao3, and their brilliant writing!

Dividers by @saradika 💜

Name: theoneeyedprince

Story: A Refined Taste

Paring: modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader

Warnings: Explicit/18+, be mindful of chapter warnings!

So, when did you start writing?

I have been interested in story telling and writing since I can remember. My first story that I've ever written was for a class in my third grade tilted "A Tale of a Little Droplet". I don't really remember why I decided to write a story about the journey that water goes through. Perhaps our teacher gave us this topic or I was just funny like that.

The thing is that I think that I've always had a soft spot for fiction. Then as the years went by I wrote everything from prose, to lyrics and poetry. Then I went to university and I started writing scripts, which became my new favourite form of writing, if I have to be honest.

When it comes to fanfiction it was the Harry Potter fandom that introduced me to it a decade ago. I read Dramione, Harry and Hermione and The Marauders fics first in my native language and then switched to writing those in English.

I didn't write at first but after months of being a reader I decided to give it a go and posted my own Dramione fic. Unfortunately, I believe that it got lost in the Internet ether because I didn't save the chapters on my computer-I wrote everything on the fanfiction site I used back then.

My fanfiction experience stopped or rather ended abruptly when I was in my senior year of high school and during four years at uni until my final year of my Masters degree began in October 2022. Funny enough it wasn't only the year when House of the Dragon premiered, but also the month when the older Aemond Targaryen appeared in the show.

The moment I saw this character on screen it was as if an old friend whispered in my ear telling me to come back. So after years and years of absence in the fanfiction community, I was finally back. All thanks to a new ASOIAF universe show and an incredibly intriguing character of Aemond Targaryen, played by Ewan Mitchell who I already knew from his role as Osferth in The Last Kingdom.

I took it slow however, searching fics and getting to know AO3 and the fanfiction side of tumblr. And as I was doing that, an idea for my own HOTD fanfic came to me. At that moment I felt like I was truly back.

What made you decide to start writing in English? Do you have any advice for budding new writers where English is not their native tongue?

I'd talk about bilingualism and literature written in English by non-native speakers for hours on end!

In my country (Poland, for anyone interested) kids start learning English in kindergarten so it became my second language pretty early on in my childhood, a constant since I was 6 years old. Lucky for me, it sunk into my brain with ease so the more I studied it the more comfortable I became with talking and writing in it.

Also, growing up with British and American shows, films and Internet helped me with that. I stopped reading translated books in high school (in English that is) 'cause I thought that if I watched visual media and listened to songs without having them translated, then why not try that with literature.

My journey with writing prose and poetry in English started then too. For some reason, writing in my second language (English) comes easier to me than in my first. I'm not sure how to describe it, it's still a mystery to me. Maybe it's the fact that I've been familiar with English for so long that my brain simply prefers it. Also, I got my degrees in English literature and translation studies so that helped me a lot with understanding this language at a level that feels like my second native tongue.

I'd say that as an author who writes in English I have an advantage because of how much time and space English occupied my life in the past and in the present.

My advice to anyone who wants to write in English but isn't a native speaker would be to simply start. Start writing and reading and get familiar with the language through these activities. The saying 'Practise makes perfect' is one hundred percent accurate!

To those who already write in their second or third language - I applaud you because by doing so you show everyone a skill that you should be proud of! In our modern times English is a global language and so available for everyone to learn that people take it for granted when someone says they read or write in it. How hard could it be, right? Well, the latter takes time and expertise and requires love and devotion for what you do. And doing that in another language is worth praising.

Where did the plot for A Refined Taste come from?

The idea came to me after devouring every modern AU that came my way. Summer was around the corner and I thought 'What if I wrote a modern AU myself? Can I do it?'

I was writing my in-canon Aemond fic at that time but started feeling a little burnt out and needed something else to focus on with hopes that it'll fill me with new inspiration and motivation. I wrote two short scenes but for what turned out to be a completely different fic at the end–the action took place during summer holidays so these scenes ended up in ART's Part 4 and 5.

The inspiration for A Refined Taste particularly came from Pinterest and Lana del Rey. A still from The Talented Mr Ripley showed up on my dash, while I was listening to Lana's Honeymoon album. Soon enough I was adding tens of pictures to my 'old money aesthetics’ board and then it dawned on me. This is perfect–a modern AU about the Targaryens being an old money family who lives in a big mansion by the sea and owns a private vineyard!

I had the title at the ready because it was one of three that I considered for a completely different modern AU but luckily it fit the theme and aesthetics. 'A refined taste' is a reference to the vineyard and their private wine collection, the old money lifestyle (the romanticised one, of course) and as we later find out in the story to the people we choose to spend time with and love.

So, in short the idea started with a desire to write a modern AU fic and old money aesthetics.

Explain your interpretation of Aemond. What drives him? Why is he the way he is in ART?

Aemond from A Refined Taste can be described in two different ways depending on who you ask about him. If you're like the reader at the beginning of the story, so someone who doesn't know him personally, no connection despite shaking hands with him once, he seems distant, so quiet that you might think him pompous and judgmental and there's this cocky attitude that comes to the surface from time to time.

However if you get to know him closer or manage to break down his walls, it turns out that he's more of an observant than a participant that's why he barely talks around strangers. Well, except for when there are his siblings around, then he might join in the conversation or crack a joke (whether it ends up being genuinely funny or mean that's another story 'cause our guy spends more time with books, he's an academic scholar after all, than with people that aren't his family).

When Aemond trusts someone or falls in love with them he lets them see this vulnerable and caring side of him that he keeps locked deep inside due to the trauma and heartbreak he faced in the past. He was raised by his mother because his father was always absent so one might assume that being doted on by Alicent he'd be more in touch with his feelings but unfortunately for him it was the opposite. Especially after losing his eye it became obvious how little Viserys cared for him.

Also, he became a shell of himself, locking himself from the world, in consequence becoming a very lonely boy who later had trouble finding friends outside of his siblings. That is why he focused on his studies.

When it comes to his romantic life, he had crushes but his low self-esteem constantly pulled him back from shooting his shot with those girls. He went through some sort of transformation during the summer before his first year at Oldtown University with the help of Aegon who was finished with his B.A. at KLU at that time. That's when he met Alys, his first serious girlfriend and a cause for the return of his bitterness and insecurities (it was a long, on and off toxic relationship). After that he was with Cass who was only a rebound for him, turning him into a cold and selfish dick in her eyes, which he was at the end. Aemond simply couldn't think of any way to cope with his previous relationship and treated Cass like Alys treated him. And that is one of the reasons why he enjoys sex, because he can be in control of a situation and forget everything just for a moment.

Then, there came the reader who showed him that he doesn't have to be at odds with the world and people in it only because he's hurting so much, that if he gave someone a chance they can surprise him in a good way.

His love language is acts of service (and quality time, at the same time)–he offers to teach the reader how to play tennis, notices what book she's been reading and gives her a first edition he's sure she'd like, shows his attraction to her by providing her pleasure without wanting anything in return (Part 4 and Part 5), takes her on a date on a boat and at the vineyard, chooses the PHD program that is closest to where she lives, shows up with flowers at her work in order to surprise her. Words of affirmation are something new to him though, but seeing how open she is with her feelings, he decided to grand her the same in return.

He's a very contradicting character in canon, so I wanted to convey that in ART too.

Was there anything in specific that inspired your Reader?

I wanted the character of the Reader to be someone who is independent on her own but would benefit from ending up in a relationship with someone who shares her interests and challenges her. I'm not going to lie, her love for literature is the author showing themselves in the fictional character. But that's totally okay because every writer leaves a part of themselves in the characters they create.

I tried to make her as relatable to the person reading as her as I was able. Besides a couple of mentions of the quite big difference in height between her and Aemond, I decided not to describe her physical appearance so you the reader can see yourself in her, act in this role even. In this I got inspired by some amazing modern AUs where a reader can wholly become The Reader.

On the other hand, I needed her to be three-dimensional at the same time. In the process she became a mixture of my favourite characters and the women in my life. Confident in what she wants and needs but not free from self-doubt, realistic but romantic, in touch with her feelings but sometimes too much that it causes her distress, empathetic but prejudiced in some cases (Aemond at the beginning). Indeed it was the women I'm influenced by that inspired to write the Reader in this particular way.

Why do you think your Reader complements Aemond so well?

I think that my Reader and Aemond complement each other because they're interested in literature and relate to each other's love for their siblings, but also because they differ in so many aspects. They naturally challenge each other and not only in a fun way that excites them, but also so they're able to grow as individual people–find and reveal hidden sides they were too afraid to act on.

Was there another characters in your story you enjoyed writing?

I really enjoyed writing the Reader’s sister Argella. She was the only OC in this story–besides the Reader of course if we can consider her to be an OC–that i made from scratch.

Argella and Reader’s relationship was inspired by the one I have with my sister but changed slightly into something even more special, deep in understanding of one another. A truly profound sisterhood. Besides that I loved throwing in these little moments of her and Helaena together and I can’t wait to write a one shot where we’ll get to know Argella as a character and which will delve into the girls’ relationship.

Do you think there be a sequel? Or do you have anything else you are working on next?

I don’t think there’s a need for a sequel. The Epilogue was written in a way that both concludes the story but allows us to imagine their life after it. There might be one shots if anyone requested something that would added to the story.

For now I’d like to focus on the rewriting of my first Aemond fic titled Of Blood and Fire which I’m currently in the middle of and an upcoming Tom Bennet story - As The World Burns. In both cases the romantic interests are original female characters, which are just so fun to create. Also one shots are to be always expected because my mind comes up with too many ideas. It’s just too little time to bring them all to life.

But one will be posted soon as part of your/arcielee’s 1k celebration! All I can say is keep an eye on my blog 🤭

Do you have a personal favorite story you'd like to share?

I thoroughly enjoyed @adragonprinceswhore 's “Warm Me Up” one shot and I see she’s got a series inspired by Fleetwood Mac, which sounds amazing!

"Come Back To Me" by @assortedseaglass has a special place in my heart because it was the very first Billy Washington fic I have ever read. "My Heart Belongs To Daddy" was the first fic of @humanpurposes that I read and in my top 5 of favourite modern AUs.

Also, @endless-ineffabilities series Maroon captured my heart! It’s been months since I read it and I’m still thinking about it.

#iwaw #iwaw17 #interview with a writer #bts #of their brilliant writing #writing community #a refined taste

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callmeahopelesscase · 1 month

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thank you for tagging me in this @gaylittlepieceofsh1t <3

I have entirely too many WIP's as I collect fic ideas like I do pretty rocks, so here's a short assortment for you <3 (most of these are kimchay, actually - which tracks tbh)

1. WIP I'm actually "working on"

finally finishing my kimchay reconciliation au in which Chay impulsively goes to serenade Kim at 2am bc talking is difficult and music is slightly less difficult (after over a year I am indeed almost done with this)

2. WIP I keep open in the background so I don't feel guilty

bigtankhun romcom au in which Big is drawn into a matchmaking/ reconciliation scheme for kimchay by Tankhun and is faced with feelings he couldn't have expected ft. Scenes from over the years - I'm super stuck on this right now, and I just want to be able to write it bc they are so dear to me, but!!! Ahh!!! *Sadly let's my head thump against the tabletop*

3. Imaginary Project (I have many of these, unfortunately, bc my head loves ideas <3)

kp AU: Kim & Macau as roomates for Vegas-wants-him-out-of-that-house-reasons (undefined deal thing *waves hand confusedly*) and also like just best friends in their own way. In this Kim is done with uni and just active as Wik and has never met Chay (idk kp canon did not happen this is an au) while Macau and Chay met in school and are now in a pop punk/ rock band together (Chay as singer, Macau on the drums) with some friends while attending uni - they get along really well so eventually he decides to drag Chay back home with him which is how kimchay meet; this whole thing is just super Kim & Macau friendship heavy (roommate shenanigans <3) with a side of music and kimchay being silly as heck about each other and subjecting Macau to it

4. Passion project

kimchay hadestown au with Chay as Orpheus and Kim as Eurydice!!!! I could talk about this for hours!!!!! This is my most favourite thing I've ever thought of maybe and one day I will have finished it!! & In the meantime, I refuse to give up on it no matter how long it takes me

5. WIP from 3 (used incredibly loosely) months ago

bigtankhun fairytale au in which Tankhun is a prince exiled to a magical castle after time unwillingly spend with the fey & Big is a Knight determined to save the recently cursed crown Prince Kinn with his help! only to arrive and find that he must first save Tankhun himself from the curse that keeps him within the walls of the strange castle (this is simply a project that takes time which I currently do not have (uni))

6. Side WIP

Kimchay locket fic!! Also known as 'The one in which they get matching heart-lockets' bc sappy kimchay is my one true passion, I think.

tagging @scattered-stardust but no pressure <3

#tag game #fanfiction

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hughungrybear · 8 months

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Me watching Dangerous Romance Ep 5:

1. Wow. Grandma IS aware of Kanghan's issue with his dad. Good for grandma giving Kang the motivation (and inspiration) he needed to improve himself. 😊

2. Kanghan and Sailom testing the bounciness of the bed. I kennat 😂😂😂

3. Oooh, share bathroom and connected bedrooms. So many dirty thoughts forming already lol 😅😅😅

4. Grandma using Kanghan's old shirt to fix Sailom's bag and selling Kang every chance she gets. If she isn't a shipper, I will lose my sh*t 😅😅😅

5. Sailom, why are you behaving like a blushing maiden? But Kanghan, why are you stripping? 🤣🤣🤣

6. Gods, if I was the driver, the bickering at the back will definitely piss me off lol It's hard enough to concentrate on the road

7. Oh, so June (Nabdao) is a trainee teacher? Man, I don't like romance between student and teacher (even if she is a trainee). On the other hand, Pimpah looks fascinated already.

8. What's with Kanghan and his propensity to phone snatching (only applicable to Sailom's device)? 😅

9. Ah, Engineering. Should have known since this is a BL lol But Kanghan not having a dream is just plain sad.

10. The fvck, Kanghan? It's cute he still thinks he likes Pimfah more than just a friend. But I also just love Sailom's sassiness and turning the sh*t around on Kanghan. Introvert, my ass lol.

11. Saifah calling his little brother out lol But I think it hurt my soul a little when Kanghan seemingly not notice Sailom's getup. Also, Pimfah scoring an unintentional date with Teacher Nabdao is smooooth.

12. Well, that lasted about 5 seconds. But seriously, only 20,000 baht a month for engineering jobs? Damn and here I thought earning only 30,000/mo in my home country's currency as a Science grad is effing laughable.

13. Hmm, there are hints of Sailom getting a uni scholarship abroad in future eps.

14. Whaddya mean it's scary? The bearded dragon looked cute. Although, pooping on Kanghan's shirt ain't cool lol

15. Oh, Teacher Nabdao, as much as I agree with you on Sailom's future his present does not allow him to quit being Kanghan's tutor. Romance aside, he cannot afford to lose this job if he wants to save himself from the loan sharks.

16. I'm sure, after some time, both Kanghan and Sailom will be aware that they are wearing a couple's shirt lol.

17. Uhm, pretty sure everybody else is still pumping their partner's chest, Kang. Just CPR, no mouth-to-mouth resuscitation happening in this open house 😳🫣

18. Guy and Nava. Just literally kiss (each other) and make up lol.

19. Oh, so Sailom originally wanted to be a musician/performer, but due to financial reasons, chose Engineering instead? 😭

20. Kang, you do realise this performance fully demolishes your claim that Sailom is introverted lol Also, where is Pimfah? Did she sneak away to find Teacher Nabdao? 😅 <after a few seonds> oh, nvm, there she is in the audience.

21. And here I thought for a hot minute the Kang forgotten Pimfah. Ah, gods dammit.

22. Wait, I'm confused. Does Pimfah like Sailom??? When? How? Why??? 😭😭😭 This is a love triangle that I didn't expect nor need 😶‍🌫️

I hope the preview kiss is not Kanghan trying to prevent the (im)possible romance between Sailom and Pimfah 😑

#dangerous romance #dangerous romance ep 5 #kanghansailom #kanghan x sailom #kangsailom #perthchimon #perth tanapon #chimon wachirawit

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fairytalesandfandoms · 9 months

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anyway, some backstory for recent posts

Surpising emotions about rediscovering an old interest

under a cut because 1) length 2) Homestuck is mentioned and I get the impression some people don’t like it very much.

Let us turn back the clock to spring 2008. I was in high school and my Standard Grade exams were just a couple of months away. I had a lot of favourite media, but relevant to this story are examples such as: Treasure Planet, Dan Brown books (which I have definitely left behind in that era, but for a while they were definitely A Thing in my brain), Operation Red Jericho by Joshua Mowll, The Mummy, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Pirates of the Caribbean and Indiana Jones. Hopefully you’re sensing a theme here: I would absolutely devour anything with an adventure/mystery combo, especially if it involved codes, maps, riddles, secret organisations etc. And one day, probably a weekend afternoon, we switched on the TV to find this film was on.

And that film... was National Treasure. And surpise surprise, during the scene inside the Charlotte (and over the course of the rest of the film) I got attached to Ben Gates like a limpet.

Things then followed a pattern which had already become very predictable in my life. I liked a character, which then quickly merged into liking an actor (in this case, Nicolas Cage) and of course then Special Interest Brain dictated that I then had to watch as many of his films as I could. Over the next few years I saw... pitifully few of them, now I’ve finally got up the nerve to look on IMDb, but enough to make it a thing (6 before I went off to uni). Unfortunately, because I am notoriously bad at keeping my interests to myself whether I want to or not, my family inevitably finds out within, like, a week of any new obsession, which as a teenager embarrassed me very greatly (and still does a bit). My mum did try to relate to me with such things (she even got my dad to watch one of the National Treasure movies but I don’t think he was that bothered about it tbh), but that usually only made me awkward because I was watching things with my mum and it was embarrassing.

My Nicolas Cage-watching would get one last hurrah in 2010, when I went to see the university film society’s screening of Kick-Ass in freshers’ week. Again, obsessed. Obsessed enough to go as Hit Girl for Halloween that year, but we all know the drill by now - the highkey messed-up (but my kind of messed-up character, with a tragic backstory, incredible combat skills and a cardigan) Damon Macready was really the blorbo of choice.

But what happened then? Why did I go from this high point to trying to avoid mentioning Nicolas Cage as much as possible? Two words: ‘the’ and ‘internet’.

I was already aware that some of Cage’s films were, to put it bluntly. not great. I had felt the cringe a bit even as a teenager, but I soldiered on. However, when I discovered social media and other similar websites, all the memes and jokes and so on made me even more embarrassed about it, and I felt like no one should ever know because I was worried that then even people whose opinions I respected would just laugh at me and tell me I had no taste, and other things of that nature. Some of those jokes were probably exaggerated for comic effect, but I’m really bad at judging tone and to me they read as straightforward mockery or dislike.

Fast-forward to 2023, a week or two ago. I have just moved to a new flat and have no wifi yet. But clever me thinks “ah, but I have the Unofficial Homestuck Collection saved to my laptop, which requires no internet, and the whole new-job-new-flat hassle means I did get behind on my routine catch-up reading. Let’s do that.”

Those of you who are familiar with Homestuck probably knew where this was going as soon as you read the word in this post. For those of you who don’t know, one of the main characters in Homestuck loves the movie Con Air. It’s referenced at least a few times (I’ve just started Act 5, so there may be more to come). There’s one scene (pp. 1660-1666, CW for some ableist language on the last page) that just really made me emotional because it connected this film with the friendship of two of the characters, and it was like a switch was flipped back on in my brain. Or more like pulling down one of those giant switches they pull down to give electricity to Frankenstein. I felt like I had gone through the cringe and come out the other side. I had to watch Kick-Ass and I had to watch it now. Or at least as soon as I got a free two-hour block of time.

And then after a few days of reliving autumn 2010 (complete with Lady Gaga songs), I had to watch National Treasure. And I vowed that as soon as I got wifi I would watch The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent, which I had made myself avoid when it was first out. And now I have. I’m not quite on Javi’s level, because 1) I don’t have Javi’s budget and 2) I would have drawn the line at the sequinned cushion. But let me tell you, teenage me would have gone absolutely feral at that movie. I probably would’ve felt like I shouldn’t be allowed to watch the sauna and pool scenes, for a start. (Thankfully, I’ve become more chill and less wound-up about that sort of thing, relatively speaking.) But god, I had to really get up my nerve to make that ‘what is the internet’s opinion’ post. Now I’ve done that, and gone to the tags in a roundabout way by searching for related movies first and then tag-hopping, it’s a lot less scary. I even managed to look up IMDb, and ignore my brain shouting ‘THE SEARCH ENGINE WILL JUDGE YOU’.

So, my Nic Cage obsession is back “not that [it] went anywhere” (yes, that’s a reference to The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent). More to come, if I can find good content. Unless he gets overtaken by Good Omens

And in the spirit of the aforementioned Homestuck character, I leave you with Rosie, referencing a story I haven’t finished reading and a film I have never seen (YET. BUT SOON).

#stuff in my life #i am cringe but i am free etc #or working on it anyway #god i didn't realise until i wrote this how hard it was for me to even mention anything to do with the guy #and it seems so silly to spend so many words doing it! but it is done and it SHALL be posted #even though it's A Lot

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ettawritesnstudies · 10 months

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First day of work! Everything went well on the logistics side of things and everyone was so friendly and happy to see me back. I was so glad they all remembered me by name it was very sweet, and apparently the work I did at this company last year was very useful to my team so that's exciting to hear that it was all appreciated.

I've got my very own office! I get to decorate tomorrow and they gave me TWO extra monitors and TWO BOOKSHELVES. And I'm going to start working on sustainability projects so I'm not getting pigeonholed into one particular technology or application like doing glue and only glue for the next 20 years slksjsflkj. The company has been going through some pretty big changes this past year and so I have no idea what its going to look like in 6 months, much less a year or two out, but I'm very hopeful that this will be a good fit for me and I'll be able to grow and keep my work-life balance with my writing.

I plan to formally come off hiatus next week, but I'll keep you posted with updates here too about my new plans for the year. Mostly I'm just so gratified all my hard work's paid off. I spent 6ish years of my life through high school AP classes, doing insane hours at the pool to save up for uni, slogging through zoom school with a full time IT job and lab work, spending all this time and energy and tears working towards... this. today. I made it.

and I never have to do homework again

#etta rambles

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fyeahkaimelia · 1 year

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this has Nothing to do w greys anatomy and i havent even been active here (but hey, this season is back so i just might be too) but i need to vent somewhere and i can’t do it on main cause irl ppl follow me there. i don’t even mind them knowing these things like its not a secret or anything but idk it’s weird

i owe ab r$ 130.000 to my university. every year i Don’t Pay the bills and owe them a huge amount of money and then they let me pay like 1/5 or even 1/6 of what i owe to be able to enroll in the next school year. i’m currently starting 4th year of med school (it’s 6 years long). this time they said they’d only do that thing where i pay a fifth of what i owe now and leave the rest to pay “later” if i use a credit card, which i don’t have — all my payments have always been thru debit yk. and i can’t get a credit card cause i owe the bankS (plural, i owe money to like every bank in the country) like over 200k from loans i’ve taken before, which i’ll never pay them back probably (it’s okay, i don’t have anything to my name so they can’t legally take anything from me cause of it). which is why i obviously also can’t get a loan.

i currently have about 40k. i’m selling my shitty car for 7k, i have a solid buyer, so i guess i have ab 47k. i’m trying to sell a shitty studio apartment in a bad neighborhood for 70k, even though it’s worth ab 120k, just to try to get it sold as fast as possible. i work a part time honest job for less than a minimum wage and i use that money to “pitch in” and help pay the bills (i live w my mom and she pays for everything but sometimes we fall short).

and i sell stuff on the side. how much i sell is directly related to how much extra cash i need that month, but it’s usually around 1k. if i really put myself out there i can make much, much more, and i usually avoid that so i don’t get too well known™, but recently (since like november) i’ve been doing that, and making ab 5k a month (which is how i’ve been saving money these past few months), and i’m currently facing the opportunity of expanding that further and maybe even make up to 10k a month from selling my stuff alone, but i’m not sure if i’ll do that cause i think people are already getting too comfy introducing my services™ to other ppl, and i even got a street name. that was sort of a wake up call for me. i sometimes get texts from strange numbers that’ll be like “hey, [insert friend’s name] gave me ur number” and i check with that friend if they’re cool before selling etc, but lately those ‘friends of friends’ all started calling me dr. hu, and it sort of caught on, and ppl who aren’t in any way connected to those ppl told me they’ve heard my “name” (dr. hu) being brought up by strangers in a couple of hang out spots in my neighborhood, and that really made me rethink the whole thing. it’s okay, my neighborhood is pretty chill, there’s not much activity here, there’s only a few parks where young ppl go to have fun, there aren’t any territorial gangs or anything, so at least i’m safe from that. but still.

also, “dr. hu” is a reference to this guy (i didnt get it at first, i thought they were saying dr who first few times i heard it):

ANYWAY. back to the point. i’ve been going to class even though i’m not officially enrolled in this semester yet, cause that’s what my lawyer told me to do, cause we’ll try to get a judge to demand my uni to let me pay in installments w debit or cash or a fucking check like it’s fucking 2007, whatever, just not credit. (idk if it wasn’t clear before, but they let me pay in cash if i pay the entire amount at once, i just don’t have that rn). but if we can’t get a judge to do that (we should find out by next week), my only way out would be if i can sell the apartment until before my exams start — and they start on march 15. otherwise i won’t be able to take the exams and i’ll automatically flunk all my classes, so.

my second option (if both the apartment thing and judge thing fail) would be to transfer to a different uni. that would hurt me deeply cause i like my uni’s curriculum better, it’s the best in the state, and i know i’d be transferring to a uni that isn’t as good. and mostly cause i’m already so integrated in my uni, i have my friends and my academic leagues and i’ve been a pharma TA (which gives me a 20% scholarship) and intended to keep on it, and i write papers for it and i had big plans to write ab some of my special interests in pharma (yea drugs are a special interest to me fr lol) and get to show them in medical conferences etc.

and there’s my bf. he’s the best thing ab uni to me tbh, he’s the reason i wake up in the morning exhausted but still excited to go to class cause he’ll be there. and it’s hard for us to see each other cause we both have jobs that demand a lot from us (i work as an “assistant” to er doctors — they pay me directly to do their work part time so they can sleep or study for residency undisturbed during part of their shifts, and he works with politics). so we only rly see each other out of class like once a week; and it’s fine cause we see each other in class almost everyday and we skip class to get high and make out on campus sometimes (like fucking teenagers ik ik), but all of that will be gone if i transfer. i’ll be lucky if i get to see him for a few hours a week. and it kinda feels like my world will colapse if that happens. i know it’s dramatic but idk, he’s kinda the light of my life rn. i know i’d get over it, i’d get over him if i had to, but i don’t want it to come to that, i really don’t, cause i’m in love & i genuinely believe we could have the life of our dreams together soon enough

anyway. transferring would genuinely be horrible but i’d get used to it. i’m already getting used to that possibility. yesterday it felt like it was the end of the world, i sobbed like a child just for considering it for a second, it felt like when ur a kid and everything gets taken away from u and u find out the world is a cruel and unjust place for the first time (i got sent to an international boarding school at age 6 man idk that’s how it felt like). but now i’m already more accepting of that possibility. i’d survive it, i’ve survived much worse, and i’d learn to enjoy it (in a bittersweet way). i’d probably lose touch with my best friend from uni (which SUCKS ASS cause he’s one of the best friends i’ve ever had, friends like him are hard to come across yk), but i’d make new friends eventually. maybe i’d find a way to make my relationship work. and i’d get to Not pay 130 thousand reais to my uni; bitches didn’t let me pay my way, they ain’t ever seeing money from me again. which would be pretty nice

and my third option, my worst option, is taking a gap year. just pausing everything. i finished 3rd grade in 2022, and i’d start 4th grade in 2024. a gap year. it’d come to that if the couple of unis i’d consider transferring to need me to take extra classes (essentially “repeat” some classes i’ve already taken) because of curriculum differences. it’d suck so, so much, but i’m still tryna prepare myself mentally for that possibility. honestly med school is my life. idk how i’d cope without medicine. honestly i skip class all the time and i hate some of my classes and i hate working with clinical medicine (which i’m required to do as a student) but still, my life kinda revolves around the fact that i’m on my way to becoming a doctor. it’s kind of what i live for. i’m not a straight As student, i’ve never been a pleasure to have in class, i get Bs and mostly Cs and i don’t study for my classes like i should, i don’t turn in my assignments, i’m essentially a very Bad student, but medicine is still my life. pharmacology and anesthesiology are my special interests. reading the entire goodman & gilman book for fun several times kinda thing. and i feel like that’s what i’m worth. i know it’s not healthy, but my entire sense of self worth is based on my academic life. which is ridiculous cause i’m not even a good student! but having mediocre grades and only studying for the few classes that i actually enjoy somehow is enough for me to feel ok ab myself. not great, i don’t have awesome self esteem, but okay enough yk. but my self esteem will go to zero so fast if i simply don’t have an academic life anymore.

and what would i do with a gap year? i’d probably work more, and maybe sell more, and maybe, just maybe, i’d work on myself. study more ab the things i’m interested in, go to the gym, help my mom w her garden. but the truth is i’d probably fall into a self destructive pattern of sleeping all day and binge eating and doing drugs. letting dirty dishes pile up all over my room, wearing the same set of pjs for weeks, not washing my hair like ever. eventually stop going to work, never leave the house. start getting social anxiety, avoiding all my friends, shutting down completely. going days without eating or seeing a single person irl. it’s happened before more than a few times, i know how i can be. i’ve had enough clinical depression episodes. and i think it could go harder than ever before (the worst one i’ve ever had was in 2017, when i spent 2 months in bed).

ok i kinda spiraled there. maybe that wouldn’t happen. it probably wouldn’t happen. and one good thing is i’d definitely find a way to make more money, so i could actually spend some on something other than bills. i could finally get the tattoos i want. ok but that’s the only silver lining i can find. and even if i didn’t fall into a depression™, would my relationship survive it? cause yea, i’d have time and money to see him, work around his schedule since he’d be busier than me, but i’d feel like shit. i’d feel like i’m worth less than him because he’d be too ahead of me academically, and i’d be stagnated. i can’t explain it.

#and i can’t even go to my happy place with oxy cause i’ve built up some tolerance so staying sober for like a week isn’t cutting it #i’ll need to detox from opiates for like a month for the high to be good enough again #might shoot up morphine tmr though. KWNDSK #or do ketamine. i’ll let my bf decide what we’re doing #cause he’s never shot up and he’s never done ketamine and i don’t wanna push him into doing anything #tw #vent post #giocore

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