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#n idk its nice to realize i exist out of my area i guess
doobea · 6 months
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SWEET / I THOUGHT YOU WANTED TO DANCE - NAGI SEISHIRO
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synopsis: Your boyfriend doesn't realize how important little things are to you until it's a bit too late.
contents: established relationship, slight hurt and comfort??, slight jealousy, sfw, nagi struggling trying to process emotional needs of others - what else is new, also nagi centric, college au, mentions of fraternity formals, gn!reader, idk i hc'd nagi to be a compsci major but up to debate ig word count: 1.6K a/n: title is based off of tyler the creators song hehe its my fav from his album and omg thank u nagi for breaking me out of this writer's block, inspired by @celestair for the idea!!
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Nagi hadn't really expected you to get so excited about attending his chapter formal. Hell, he didn't even know that they were going to have one in the first place if it weren't for Reo bringing it up in a passing conversation last week in your dorm room.
"We should go!" You said, and he remembers you hopping out of your seat, abandoning your assignment, and dashing immediately towards your closet for an outfit.
"Should we?" Nagi questioned, a frown creeping its way to his lips.
Reo slumped his arm over Nagi's shoulder, tugging the male slightly into his chest. "C'mon, why are you even paying the dues if you don't attend our events?" Reo sounded annoyed.
Nagi shrugged and went back to his phone, resuming the level of whatever popular gacha game that was released for that month. "Because you said it would look good on my resume or something." He answered flatly.
Of course, Nagi knew that he couldn't say no to this. As much as he would love to, once you and Reo were both set on something it's almost impossible to try and coax you two out of it. Nagi is pretty sure that this formal is going to be the bane of his college existence and that his computer science classes are, arguably, now the easiest part.
"It's too loud in here." Nagi wanted to go home the moment he stepped out of his best friend's rented limo. He feels too stiff with the suit he's currently wearing, the cologne is starting to overwhelm his senses, and he really didn't like the fact there's already a fuckton of people inside the venue.
Everything feels too congested.
The three of you take a seat at a table shared by Nagi's other 'brothers' and their dates. He really doesn't remember anyone's faces aside from maybe one or two from his classes, so he's confused when a handful of them start greeting him with fist bumps. All of which he awkwardly returns. Something about long-living brotherhood? Nagi didn't quite catch what they said.
"Do you guys want anything to drink?" Reo shouts over the music as he starts to get up.
"A cranberry vodka would be nice." You gently tug on Nagi's sleeve, attempting to break his unyielding attention from his phone. Reo had set a rule before they left, and it's a mobile game and social media app ban at the table. So, naturally, Nagi is stuck analyzing the weather app. "Do you want anything, Sei?"
Looks like tomorrow there's going to be a slight chance of rain which is pretty awesome, he thinks.
"Hm? Oh, whatever you're having, I guess."
Nagi misses the way your smile fades. "Um, make that two cranberry vodkas?"
"Ah," Reo stumbles around with his words for a bit before nodding away. "Sure, be back in a minute."
"Sei," Your voice is closer this time, lips almost pressed up to his ears to minimize the booming music in the background. "Wanna go on the dance floor later?"
Nagi pauses his thumb, hovering over a random European map, and he's already internally shrinking from the idea. "Do I have to?"
You laugh, it sounds a little forced. "Only if you're up for it."
He shrugs and eyes the surrounding area. The dance floor looks semi-packed at the moment and everyone looks equally semi-buzzed. Sitting at the table sounds better in his head. "I think I'll stay here but you can go on ahead."
"Oh," You exhale through your nose and laugh again. "Okay, if that's what you want!"
"Mhm," He hums back and settles his head down at the table, feeling almost exhausted despite not having to do much today.
Nagi doesn't notice that he's alone at the table until the DJ starts signaling everyone in the venue to pay attention to a couple on the dance floor. He only looks up when he hears Reo's name getting called out and starts to straighten his back when he sees you dancing hand in hand with him. The sight leaves Nagi gnawing the insides of his cheeks.
"Hey," Nagi turns to see two of his fraternity brothers looking at him with a bit of concern and he's not sure why that's making him feel uneasy.
"You good there?" Isagi asks, careful to sound casual, but Nagi picks up on it.
"What?" Nagi frowns, connecting the dots together. "It's fine. I don't really care about them doing stuff together anyway." It's a vague statement. Maybe purposefully vague.
"Eh? You sure about that, Nagi?" Bachira presses.
Nagi frowns again, tips his head down, and is in deep thought. "I'm actually not sure." He finally admits. Nagi is currently fighting off a weird feeling in his stomach. Maybe it's just the drink he had earlier.
He's always been fine with Reo keeping you company whenever he isn't in the mood. Whether it be eating with you in the dining halls, attending movies together, going to the mall, and so forth. Dancing isn't off the list either. He's seen the two of you dance before but isn't sure why this is setting him off. Maybe it's the thought of you being happier without him in your life that is eating him away.
"Shit, he's walking over."
"Waah, let's go!"
It doesn't occur to Nagi that Reo's in front of him until his best friend clears his throat. Reo puts a hand on Nagi's shoulder and gives him one of those looks. A look that insinuates something big that he can't place a finger on but knows it's full of negative nuance.
"Don't be an ass right now," is all that Reo says.
"An ass?" Nagi echoes.
He allows Reo to tug him out of his seat and Nagi almost feels lethargic from how long he's been sitting down. A final push towards the edge of the dance floor is when he catches your sullen figure.
"I'm surprised that you haven't caught on," Reo continues after a while. Nagi recognizes the tone. He doesn't say anything more, and Nagi appreciates it that much, at least.
It's funny how much his mood is able to shift. First from feeling annoyed, to borderline sleepy, to determined. Nagi thinks he's finally learning how to read his relationship with you.
It's only when he's inches apart that he realizes that you're on the verge of tears. Nagi instinctively reaches out his hands and softly cups your cheeks, rubbing his thumbs across in his attempt to calm you.
What's wrong, he wants to ask but he already knows the answer to that. He feels bad for complaining all week, but he feels even worse for essentially abandoning your needs for god knows how long.
Nagi chews on his lips as a new idea starts to brew. It's an uncharacteristic idea. An idea that pushes him to become a new version of himself—the person he wants to be but struggling to understand.
"Hey," Nagi calls out your name slowly. "Can I dance with you?" You open your mouth—probably to say it's okay and you'd rather not make him uncomfortable—but Nagi continues before you can get a word in, before your tears start falling. "I'm sorry, I should've paid closer attention." He says in a whisper.
You fall silent and Nagi is wondering if he's said something he shouldn't have. He quietly peers over at Reo who's aggressively nodding his head, throwing a thumbs up across the room. You shift awkwardly in place before giving Nagi a faint smile.
"I would like that," You sound a little hesitant, but surprisingly welcoming to the suggestion. "I mean, if you're okay with it?"
"Don't worry about what I think, you've done plenty for me already." And he means it.
Nagi migrates his hands from your face to your waist as the music shifts to something slower, more tender, and sweet. It's obvious to everyone in the room that you two are a little nervous and it's almost laughable. He's been dating you just shy of a year and has never once offered to dance with you. It comes as no shock to him that you're growing shy under his touch and movements, despite being together countless times. This feels different to Nagi, and he's positive you're thinking the same thing.
It takes a while, maybe because you're both getting used to this foreign feeling, but you eventually wrap your arms around his neck and hug closer to his body. Somehow, that short circuits Nagi's brain and he freezes in place.
"Sei, is everything alright?"
There's a wave of guilt that washes over his eyes. This act is weighing Nagi down, more than he wants to admit, and he has to pull away. Eyes glued to the ground because if he looks at you he'll start to feel nervous, confused, and small.
"Sorry, I'm... trying my best."
"Sei, it's okay." It's your turn to rub your hands across his cheeks and he doesn't realize that he's flushed in the face until you comment. "You're warm."
"Sorry," He doesn't know why he's apologizing again. For being flustered? Not knowing how to dance? Or afraid of disappointing you again? He thinks it's a mixture of all three.
"Hey, as long as you're trying then I'm proud of you." You reply with ease.
You're always kind to him. Most times, you don't push him more than what he's willing to give and maybe that's why he's comfortable around you. Even if he does know you're silently judging his actions but it's okay, because it's you. But he also knows that he's been taking advantage of this trait and it sucks having to find this out tonight.
Nagi nods. You're right, he doesn't need to worry about anything else but you in this moment.
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sporadic-writer · 4 years
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Welcome to the Neighborhood pt. 2
Note: ok so I know that not all of the boys, meaning both twins, live with the others. And I know my update schedule sucks but I go in a block and funk. Sorry guys. I just want you to read something I would read and truly enjoy. Also, I think I may make this a Haz fic bc ones about hin deserves more love and notes.
No one really reads these but I also think I'll write this for Harrison bc when Tom posted the pic of Nadia, it shattered the illusion in my head lol and it feels weird to a certain extent to write when he is most likely dating her. Don't get me wrong, I'm so happy for him and he doesn't know I exist, but it feels odd idk. So im pausing on Tom stuff atm lol. Harrison is single as far as publicly that ik so thats that 😅
Pairing: Harrison x Reader (most likely)
Warnings: mentions of weed, alcohol, and swearing. I enjoy all these things responsibly and ik im not the only one. As always stop reading if you dont like something.
Part 1 here initial teaser here (got around 100 notes soo 😎 check that out)
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“Alrighty boys. That’s enough about me, tell me about yourselves. I only know this one from the big screen and that 2 of you are brothers.” You gestured to Tom as you spoke about him. “And from basic eavesdropping I gather you are all very close.” 
Tom smiled, “Actually I’m a brother to the twins, older obviously.” It was fun having a celeb lounging in your hot tub, drinking a beer with you. “But yeah I am an actor, Spider-Man as you probably know. Harrison’s an actor too!”
“Oh my god you are! I watched Catch-22 on Hulu! Comedy my ass..! I balled my eyes out several times.” He had the nerve to laugh in response. “Don’t laugh! That shit got intense quick. Then the shot where you all are swimming? Killed me. I don't know how I didn't notice you. Sorry!”
“Did you at least like it?” He smiled and asked hopefully. When you nodded yes he beamed! “Well then that’s all that matters. I will say an American accent is hard.”
You brought your beer up to your lips. “Yeah because your guys’ accent is so easy. You make fun of how different areas in America have different accents but it’s the same here!” They nodded in agreement at your words. You leaned your head back a tad and enjoyed the warm water. “Southern accents have different twangs bepending on the area, I have family that lives closer to New England, that's something all in its own. Just like here. You got London, Wales, some place called Essex and other places more north of here. It's not just the US." You reached over for your joint to finish it amongst the bubbles. "Now for real. Tell me about yourselves. Harrison you start I guess."
"Why me?"
"Shorter wikipedia page." You smirk as you re-lit your herb. The guys laughed and made 'ooh' noises to tease. "I'm kidding! Relax a touch. I just picked your name because you are right in front of me."
"Well I've known this lot since we were all kids. Tom and I went to school together and we have been stuck with each other since. I was his personal assistant for a while too." You listened as he spoke. Sweat was building up on his face from the hot tub. It added a nice shine to his, and everyone's faces. In order to avoid makeup running everywhere you sat up as you listened to him. You watched his eyes watch your movements as you took a hit and slowly exhaled. Almost like he was relaxing from watching someone relax from getting high without actually doing so. He kept going and you realized you zoned out a tad. "And then I wanted to do more than just model so I did more auditions and Catch-22 became my biggest so far."
You nodded, noting you heard and were listening. "That's cool and all but tell me like favorite song, movie, animal! Hahaha it isn't everyday famous people are in my hot tub. I'm going to savor this first encounter!" He smiled and answered your sort of questions. You offered the joint around before it finished. Tom passed, Tuwaine and Harrison took quick hits though. "But yeah that is me. Now someone else go so I don't have the spot light on me anymore." He looked at you as he said that and handed you the last bit. You winked in thanks, and to flirt lightly. (Shoot your shot right?) "Same questions to you love."
You responded your favorite song, movie, and color to him. "Yeah I like a bit of everything. But funny movies are my favorite. Obviously I like Marvel too Tom don't worry. Same goes for music but my preference ranges from new pop to older rock. I grew up on 80s alternative pop stuff." You smiled at him and he beamed in pride at the brand he represented. "Ok Sam you now."
Sam starts talking about his life and Harrison goes to grab more drinks. At this point the sun as almost finished setting and you tell the blonde how to turn the deck lights on. Soon the rows of edison bulbs flick on and a lovely mood is set. The glow isn't too bright and adds a nice light to your summer tanned skin. What you don't know is that the gentlemen appreciated the glow as well. However, they are too polite to say anything too bold after just meeting you.
If you could read minds or be sober enough to detect a certain lack of subtlety you would pick up on how the single men checked you out as you got out of the tub to get rid of the roach. Polite of course, 20 something men are going to appreciate a beautiful American girl right in front of them.
And if they could read your mind they would hear how you were taking in Tom and Harrison's jaw lines and toned muscles. How you appreciated Tuwaine's smile and height. Then add the twin's curls and freckles to the list and they'd think you were picking them like boys from a catalogue. Despite the slight oggling on your part, your eyes always wandered back to the blonde hair blue eyed boy the most. He seemed a little more laid back then Tom. Probably just because one was working more than the other, but that was just initial vibes you got. Regardless of vain appearance choices and vibe preference, all these boys were wonderful and you were just lucky enough your uncle's hot tub fit them all nicely.
Tuwaine smiled cheekily and spoke up. "Alright, we all have fresh drinks and proper buzzes. Let's make it fun and play a game. So Y/N, you went to college in the states, give us a classic drinking game and show us what you got."
"Ha! I don't know what you're looking for but I assume never have I ever is universal? You can't play kings or flip cup in a hit tub. Hold up 5 fingers, put them down if you've done said thing, drink as well."
"No fingers, just play till we are right pissed." Harry grinned and everyone else went along with it. "I will start. Never have I ever- wait this a normal game or sexy version?"
You said you didn't care and Tom said what the hell, so he continued. "Never have I ever gotten walked in on during a scandelous activity." Tom and Harrison both drank and groaned saying they have both walked in on each other at some point in life. Tuwaine continued.
"Never have I ever fooled around while someone else is in the room." There was a pause and no one drank. But then you rose your beer to your lips and they all looked at you in a manner of surprise and demand for explination.
Shrugging you said, "Old drunken hookup in school. We didn't know his roommate was in his top bunk asleep until it was too late. The mistake we made was keeping on going when we thought we heard him, because we did..."
"Wow Y/N. Learning a lot about the neighbor girl right away!"
"Shut up this game was your idea!" You laughed as you spoke in response to his teasing. "But whatever it's my turn now anyway. Never have I ever sent a dirty text to the wrong person." That got all but Harrison and you felt proud for getting them. "Alright so you are either morons or were in a rush to send that sext."
Tom defended himself saying her name was Sam and it was instant regret the second he realized.
Sam glared at him and said, "Yeah no one enjoyed that bro. I'm still shaken up about it."
"Get over yourself it was like 5 years ago! And you accidentally sent your friend Jake one, so pot, kettle, hi both black."
"It was detailed!"
You just sat there amused taking this all in. "I am so glad this happened tonight." You said more to yourself than them.
"Darling if this ends up in the tabloids we will never speak again." They were teasing with the threat. "But come on this is good let's keep going. Never have I ever done it in a car." You, Sam, and Tuwaine all drank and giggled.
The game continued on and another round of drinks were had. You learned Tuwaine had said the wrong name in bed. Also, that both Harry and Harrison have fooled around during family functions. In return they learned that you've hooked up in a college classroom and in a restaurant bathroom. That ended up getting you and your former boyfriend kicked out of the establishment. Towards the final round all were getting sleepier but still in a good mood.
"Never have I ever had sex high." Harrison challenged the group. No one drank. "Wait really? Thought I'd get you with that. Finish your beer and all." He looked at you as he spoke.
"Nope. Just never happened now that I've thought about it. Huh. You'd think right? But nope. Not that I'm opposed." You ended your statement by glancing his way while finishing your beer anyway. Harrison just watched the way your neck moved as you tilted your head back. "Ok boys this was fun but I am gettin tired."
Tom nodded. "Same here. Thank you for having us darling, it was fun!" The others spoke in agreement and you smiled at them saying they were welcomed back anytime. They offered to help clean but you grabbed the remaining bottles and told them you were good. After final goodbyes, you told them to not he strangers, you were all in your respective homes.
You went to bed pretty quick. Next door, at their place Tom, Harrison, and Sam lingered to get some water before bed. "She was really cool." Sam said while sipping water.
Harrison hummed in agreement. "Yeah I think so too. Very chill and all that."
Sam smirked and playfully said, "You just think she's fit mate." There was a pause.
"Well she is." It was Tom who said that and the others looked at him in playful shock. "What I'm not blind! She is! She's isn't some shy girl freaking out over us. She's cheeky and just seems normal about us living next to her. More Harrison's type though I'd say."
Sam laughed. "Yeah he always liked the classic American 'girl next door' type. Just a bonus she is actually American this time." They paused for Harrison to negate their statements but he just sipped his water and looked at them with a glint in his eyes. "Told you." Sam said as he took a sip. "She is better than half the models either of you bring back. Nuerons fire and she can keep a conversation. Not that all models are like that! But come on you went out with some stereotypes." Neither could disagree. Sometimes you just want to have a date with the beautiful face. Long term needs substance though, and both Tom and Harrison thought you had it all.
"We need to invite her over tomorrow, and any time she's free." Groundwork was to be established and Harrison was determined to get to know you more.
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As always, like and reblog! I hope you like it! Also if i forget to tag someone lmk, same if you wanna be tagged or not tagged. Feedback and notes are appreciated but be nice haha I edit as best I can. Thanks for reading and enjoying.
Tags: @jillanaholland @averyfosterthoughts @sarah-m-limelight-2007 @astridcommings
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oghoneytryst · 5 years
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savior;
continuation from the sunflower. series / part 3
where a fan becomes a friend
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a/n: thank u for being so patient with this. my inspiration and writing just ... hasn’t been it lately, but I'm really pushing through and i am so happy to have finished this part. honestly, we’ve got a long road ahead of us, but I will try my absolute best to drive this wild ride down.
pls let me know how you feel about this part! pls be nice b/c I'm currently in sad bitch hours :-)
also sorry that tumblr is a weirdo and made the format for text super strange, idk what to do about it but i hope it doesn’t affect anything!
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~ Nov. 14 ~
Every digit embodies a shapely mark of intimidation; all ten, with their loops and their curves that shower in iridescence through her late morning eyes. Midnight ink saturates the sticky note’s pale yellow, tiny creases in the square body and little curls at the edges. She knows the value of this ordinary paper, and in her hands, it dances in the flame of eternal possibilities.
The pregnant woman sits on an office chair with desperation in her chest. Beneath the buttons and ruffles of her bright marigold blouse, her heart beats against her clammy skin. Heavy thighs stick to the squish of the chair, a mermaid’s tail in a muted pencil skirt. The material expands and shapes over her little bump; her growing joy; her inconvenient little bundle that she adores so much.
As a result of her punishable overthinking, she tears away the inside of her cheek, gnawing teeth at war by mindless command. In a pile of her worries, the minimal harm is at the very bottom. At the top are these ten digits that transfix her curious eyes. It isn’t as if she hasn’t considered dialing the number before. Insignificant pregnancy whines, however, cannot compare with the favor she would be asking of him now.
Without trouble, she recalls the days that had followed Harry’s visit. She recalls her tears on the couch, angry at nothing, angry at everything; the frustrating changes of her body, the awful work days. In all of her recollections, she complains to her roommate, who she admires greatly for putting up with all of her dramatics.
On the 6th, she had obsessively craved some Dippin’ Dots. It had been on the 6th that Aaron found himself arguing with a pregnant woman, a feat he had never wanted. It hadn’t mattered that such a pregnant woman had been his infuriatingly needy roommate, someone he actually does care for. He really had no trouble telling her no after her incredibly annoying behavior that afternoon.
She, of course, is never able to control her pregnant mannerisms. Yet, Aaron has always been suspicious of what she had been like prior to the bun in her oven. He has only ever known her as a woman-carrying-child in need, so perhaps during this process a lot of her personality hyphens instead of alters.
Nonetheless, her demand had been frankly impossible on the 6th. The nearest Dippin’ Dots is more than a half hour drive away from their home, and nighttime had been approaching soon. There hadn’t been a chance that Aaron would bear through Los Angeles traffic for, quote, “fucking balls of ice cream.”
So, with the fire of the sun drizzling to a bedazzling California sky, she had wept over nothing and everything at once. The timeline of her pregnancy had not made her emotions plausible. Instead, it had been the collective world turning against her on a tiring, unwelcomed day.
In the flash of a second, she had heard the ding in her fuzzy brain. The sticky note with the fruitful digits ... maybe he has some connections! Maybe he can bring us some! Do you think? If he’s not busy? What if he has a special freezer meant for his own supply of Dippin’ Dots?
It had been harmless on her part; an oh-so-bright idea crafted from a momentary desire for soft frozen food. She had been so close to make the call, if not for her dearest roommate and his not-so-delicate intervention. Aaron, the man who she believes admires Harry more than she does. With a high percentage of certitude, she knows he’d be first in line to invite the Cheshire man back to their unimpressive home. 
In truth, that had been the reason for his disapproval of ringing him up that night. He believed it to be lunacy, sharp scissors at the ready in order to cut the special ties she had somehow knotted up with Harry. The man’s exact words – in that richly Northwestern accent – had been: “if you ever need something, please, don’t hesitate to call this number.” Something, in Aaron’s eyes, had not been anything. While he does not have a single doubt that the rock star would fly to her rescue in any situation, he advised against calling him for certain things.
Not everyone is so fortunate to have Harry in their lives. Aaron, with all of his respect for the man, knew that this had been a game to play carefully. If his pregnant roommate really enjoyed Harry’s company, she would have to play every card right, especially with a man as reserved as he is.
His points had been compelling, but she had not seen it as seriously. Her intuition had not stopped her from rethinking her decision once and twice and thrice. In the end, she had put her trust in Aaron’s madman words and had not called Harry. In the days that had followed, his charismatic voice lured in the back of her head whenever she scanned the sticky note, second-guessing herself about whether her temptation to call him had been worthy enough of his time.
It had been more difficult to resist calling when she had been alone one unfortunate night. The bustle of the neighborhood brought her to a reality that she did not particularly enjoy. Forced by the comfort of her pregnancy pillow, there had been a magnetic pull of the stars that whispered to her eyes through an overbearing distance.
She only wanted a friend that night. Someone to talk with, to hear their voice so that it could bring her back to the bit of sanity she had left. Previous nights, Aaron had been a solace for her, soft-spoken words lulling her to sleep after suffocating in the clouds for too long. Except that night, he ended up at his workplace until the late hour, and she recognized her loneliness as dangerously frightening.
For hours she cried, wanting a hug, wanting something to make her feel real and existent and safe. On that night, in her most calamitous moments, she later came to notice the vivacity of her swollen stomach. It had been – always is – comforting to feel something there, even without having to actually feel movement. It had been therapeutic to whisper her fears and truths. It had been on that night, she would never be alone again.
She hasn’t thought to call the number since. While it has only been a mere 10 days, there feels to be an infinite timeline of moments in-between. She knows it to be more accurate for him and his busy, ever-changing schedule.
They’d had a conversation last time, when he brought her that treasured gift. He sat on the dusty floorboards, her rested on a heavenly cloud with a smile to match. It had been simple, a little awkward at times, though never once had it felt forced. She feared them reverting back to strangers, to sense the shift in energy that would put a strain on her heart.
She scans the note again. xxx-xxx-xxxx. A dime of kisses, where no other option lies.
With her phone face-up on the receptionist’s desk, she rolls her eyes. Messages of apologies and excuses flood in, though her scant aggression dissolves into an antsy frown. She cannot be mad at Cindy/Sydney for cancelling on her, especially when she does not even know her actual name. The frustration of her anger devolves into frustration of herself, for this damn appointment that she had not set up a backup plan for.
“Excuse me?”
Breaking up with an intense, one-sided conversation, she raises her head to a sheepish man in his late 30’s, early 40’s. He stands at a short height on the other side of the receptionist’s desk, square glasses disguising his truest features.
She grins at him, a cheery delight overpowering her honest glum. “Hi, how are you?” her voice chirps, a shift in her behavior that she considers a skill-set. “What can I do for you today?”
“Uh, I’ve already spoken with you. I have an appointment with Sanders at 10 and you told me to fill out a form. I’m still waiting for it.”
The woman’s smile falters at the man’s irresolute explanation. He ends each sentence as though it is a question, not wanting to step on a wrong foot. She takes in his appearance, and there is familiarity in his rusty red, untucked polo. 
“Right.” Her eyes close in repent of her common forgetfulness. “That’s right. I’m sorry.” She scurries to get the papers together on a clipboard, pushing the rolling chair in every different direction. “I’ve just been a little slow today.” The man laughs off the mistake, assuring her that there are no worries.
“Really, no trouble at all.” 
He thanks her for the form once it is secure in his hands and walks to the waiting area. This accidentally precedes her rushing to hand him the sticky note, to which she quickly realizes her mistake before he has a chance to read the numbers. He sits down in a modern arm chair next to its twin, where a young preteen girl shifts around nervously. Out of plain assumption, she recognizes the pair as a father-daughter duo. The man smiles at the girl, crossing his legs, trying to console her nerves as best as he can with humor.
The pregnant receptionist smiles.
The ventilated air of the office smoothens in her lungs.
For her child, she would do anything – everything. As hesitant thoughts surge through in hungry waves, she dials the number in her phone anyway. In the back of her head, she contemplates whether it is actually his number or if it belongs to an assistant of his. It doesn’t sound completely off from what a celebrity would do. He doesn’t know who she is. It’s better to play it safe than to make a foolish mistake that he later regrets. 
The trio of short, snippy buzzes vibrate through the line. It is an electric feeling, comforting almost to hear its warm murmur during her wait.
“—Hello?”
Her languid eyes illuminate in the mirror of neon signs; her body freezes over with a blizzard of nerves. His voice is somehow deeper than she remembers from 10 days ago, an ironic sultriness in his polite tone.
“Hello?” he asks again with a tad more infliction in the single word.
“...H-Hello,” she responds, tongue running dry and the last sensible part of her brain sabotaging her. Why didn’t I prepare for this? It is feasible that deep in her subconscious, she had expected an assistant to answer. She practically wanted an assistant to answer. 
He repeats himself, “Hello,” a little more chirp in the melody of a mockingbird.
“Hi. Harry?”
“Who’s calling?”
The question stumbles her for a second. Is it good or bad that he cannot recognize her voice? Admittedly a consequence on her part for taking so long to reach out. She answers anyway, her name spoken with so much dubiety, but really, what is she afraid of? 
“You know, the uh, the one from—”
“Oh—”
“From Mel’s and, the one with ... pregnant, y’know—”
“Yeah!” he exclaims, echoing her name through a mildly static output. “Of course. How are you? Doing alright? Baby’s fine?” 
She pulls away from the phone to breathe, suddenly elated over his reaction. His charisma is virtually magical. She touches her cheek to the screen again to answer:
“I’m doing great, thank you. Baby’s fine, I hope.”
A delay of worry replaces his lack of an immediate response. “You hope? Why, what’s – is there something wrong?”
“No!” she bursts out, the father and daughter staring back at her in surprise. She nervously chuckles and smiles at them, deflating in her chair as she continues. “No, sorry, that came out wrong. I meant to say ... well, I’m sure the baby’s fine. Nothing feels wrong, but I do have an appointment for an ultrasound today.”
A faint crackle from the line resonates in her ear. She clearly pictures Harry’s sigh of relief.
“Really? That’s great. I hope it all goes well.”
“Thanks! Thank you, I do too—” she snickers, “Obviously, but I have uh ... there’s a bit of a predicament.”
“Predicament? Fancy word.”
“Right, well, it’s not so much of a fancy situation that I’m in. See, I was supposed to be picked up later today by Cindy Sydney so that she could take me from work to the appointment, but she just called and cancelled because she has to pick up her aunt from the airport. She got the dates mixed up somehow, which makes no sense because pregnancy has made me very forgetful, and even I didn’t get the dates wrong. I think that might have to do with the planner, it does keep me organized, but even then—”
“Darling,” Harry stops her, unaware of how she chokes on her own tongue at the endearment. Darling. Darling again! From darling to love, she is in a storm of beating hearts. “You’re gonna ‘ave to slow down. What – you don’t have a way to get to your appointment, is it?”
“Yes. Right. I don’t have enough for an Uber or a Lyft right now without affecting my budget for next month. She offered to pay for it, that or for cancellation fees, but I don’t really trust those kinds of transportations right now, and I already got approval from my manager, so switching the date would just be super inconvenient.”
“Right. I understand.”
“I’m so sorry, it’s just that no one else that I know of is available, and I don’t want to bother you if you’re busy. I wouldn’t be calling if—”
“No, no, that’s alright. I’m glad that you’re calling.”
The pregnant woman simpers, a needle pricking at her heart. “R-Really?”
“Of course. I would be more than glad to help. If you could just send me the location of your workplace and where you’re getting your ultrasound ... what time is your appointment?”
“At 2. I want to get there maybe fifteen minutes earlier. You’ll never know how much the traffic will back up at that time. Is it okay if uh ... are, are you picking me up or...?”
“Yeah, why?”
“N-No, nothing, I just ... didn’t know if you were busy. Didn’t want to assume.”
“Yeah, my schedule’s fine. Not really doing anything that I can’t do later, so everything’s fine.”
“Oh, okay. Good. Great. So, uh, is it okay if you arrive here at, say, one-oh-five-ish?” 
“Oddly specific.” Harry chuckles. “But sure. I can make that happen.” 
“Great! Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“You’re quite welcome ... thank you for calling.”
While her appreciation for him has always been so strong, this heavy thump in her pink and red organ is nearly unbearable. Ever since he fell intertwining into her life, she tries her hardest to ignore whatever feelings may occur. Now it seems more ideal to control it than to suppress it.
“You’re welcome,” she speaks softly, 16 again with a crush on a boy. “Thank you for picking up.”
Unbeknownst to her, he smiles on the other end. “S’ my pleasure. Now, get back to work, you over-achiever!” His accent purposely thickens on his second sentence, eliciting a natural, honest laugh. “Don’t forget to send me the addresses. I’ll make sure everything works out.”
Their phone call ends with innocent expressions of repetitive gratitude and gentle goodbyes. The pregnant woman does not waste a second to send him the addresses via text message, not allowing herself to fall victim to her lapse of memory. She checks over the numbers, the street names, the zip codes – all more than once, to make sure that all is well and not in metaphorical flames.
new message: Got it. See you later. H
H. She bites on her silky lip, a refreshing taste from her natural balm. She is familiar with the signoff, though she doesn’t know if it is something he does regularly or if it is only a one-time confirmation that this is, in fact, his number. Does he expect her to save his ten digits in her contact’s list, somewhere underneath a family member and above an old friend? She is giddy, undoubtedly so. An unspoken dream of hers as a plain teenager unraveling into reality! It causes the brightest smile this orthodontist office has ever seen.
So much esteem fills her up at eleven in the morning, and to her expectation, the hours go by very slowly. Alternating clients, each with different lives, somehow bound to this one place and time. Sorting forms and making calls and opening emails; a distraction in one way or another, but neither can steal her attention entirely.
Due to a much-needed bathroom break, she almost misses the message. Relieving her bladder had not been the first or even second of the day, but it is important that she stays hydrated, and this is especially true during her pregnancy. She really cannot afford a preventable trip to the emergency room right now.
When she reaches the receptionist’s desk, the message hides behind the black screen of her phone for an entire minute. She is lucky that her outdated iPhone can still be trusted by reminding her of a message succeeding two minutes from when she receives it.
new message: I’m outside. Toyota Camry in black. 
Despite her anticipation for his arrival, the message throws her off any and all guards. Primarily it is because he arrives six minutes before their agreed time, whereas her friends are usually a few minutes late. Secondarily... 
“Toyota?” she whispers to herself, eyebrows arching together. She isn’t too up to speed with car models, but she is more than certain that Harry has driven some different sort of vehicles in his time. The only moment she can ever recall him in a Toyota had been that commercial he had done years ago.
Regardless, she raises steadily from her chair on wheels, pushing it back as she collects her belongings. It is without trouble that she notices the slight shake of her hand, the sweat collecting on different sections of her skin. She ignores it. “Ang!” she calls, groaning at the absolute mess of her work bag. It is more professional than her casual bucket bag, wide with its faux leather, but it is just as much of an interior travesty.
She picks up her phone to send a one-handed message:
Conch.
Coming* 
Be out soon.
“Ang!”
There is a franticness to her as she steps around the receptionist’s desk. She sports an added height in her footwear, something that she tries to savor before her feet start to swell. She thinks it will be unbearable to wear heels then, but she’s not for certain.
“I’m here, I’m here!” Ang announces, stepping into the light of the front area in her navy scrubs. “Sorry, nena, I had an alarm set for one in case you forgot. Guess it didn’t go off.” 
The pregnant woman watches her coworker situate herself on the rolling chair. “No, no, you’re fine, it’s not one yet. Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve been able to forget. I’m just so excited, you have no idea.”
“No, I don’t.” Ang smiles. “You’re about to see your child! That’s a huge deal.”
“I know! I know, I can’t wait.”
“I can. Especially until Stefan buys me a ring. Otherwise, I’m going to keep working on my career.”
The woman smiles at her friend, thanking her once more for taking over her station while she is gone. She repeats the same gratitude, expressing how much this truly means to her, because it all comes from her honest heart. She really is in awe of how willing people are to help her when she is in need.
“Also, turn that alarm off before it starts ringing. It makes me anxious every time I hear it.”
“You and I both.” Ang snickers. “You’re off to your appointment then?” 
“Yes, my uh, my ride’s here so ... better early than late when it comes to these things, y’know?”
“Mm-hmm. Who’s taking you?”
The pregnant woman hesitates. “A friend. Has the day off from work, thankfully.” 
Ang begins to sift through a small pile of paperwork, sparing her coworker a measly glance. She’s not unfamiliar with the receptionist’s work, so she takes this as an opportunity to rest her active legs. She can also recognize the strange tone of the pregnant woman, a shaky smile that carries suspicion.
She doesn’t think too much on it. “Great. Be safe. Let me know how it goes.”
For that, the pregnant woman is grateful. “Thank you.” She smiles, a frail wave in Ang’s direction as she blindly scurries away. “I’ll see you tomorrow!”
She almost runs belly first into the glass door, but stutters her movements before any panic arises from Ang. Still, she sighs with relief when she hears the chime above her pregnant coworker’s head. “...Be careful.”
“Got it! Bye!”
The woman’s face twists in agony as she exits the office. A tenacious heat buries her in an embrace. Parallel to the sidewalk she stands upon is a dark vehicle, a protective tint rises from the brim of the tires and extends beyond the sleek windows. She gravitates in its direction at the sound of the passanger door unlocking, considering it symbolic, the single click of the door a new breath of feasibilities. 
She stalks a couple feet to her right where the car reeks with caution. It isn’t until the passanger windows rolls down that she can sense her blood settle and burst all at once. “Hi.” Harry leans forward at his side, revealing his face amongst the darkness of his surroundings.
“Hey, hi,” she greets him back through the open window. “Good to see you. Nice car.” 
“Thanks.” He smiles, scarce eyes pulling to her every movement. In the most mundane activities – fingertips at the door handle, crouching to the seat, buckling the seatbelt – she highlights his curiosity. “Good to see you as well. Also, s’ actually not my car.”
With her lips as barriers around a reusable straw, she pretends to be surprised. “It’s not?” she smacks her tongue, relishing in the purity of her water.
Harry shifts the gear in drive, setting the GPS up and maneuvering out of the lot with high-alert. “No. I’ve borrowed it.”
“Why—”
“Starting route to—” The animatronic voice interrupts their conversation.
She tries again, “Why would you do that?” with slight disappointment in their reunion. It lacks excitement, but somehow picks up where it’s been left off. No longer a drastic stretch in time are those 10 days.
Harry shrugs casually, turning onto the main road where other vehicles swim along. “Draws less attention.” He pauses, to which she then decides to look over. With the exception of him driving, she gets the impression that he avoids her eyes more so to keep her from catching the sadness in his. There is only a sprinkle, a shimmer that is never truly absent. “Thought you’d might be a little anxious about your appointment,” he continues, “Didn’t want you to have to worry about something else.”
“Oh.” She warms up, her organs all collectively combusting. “Thanks. Thank you for thinking of that.” Her words express gratitude with ease, but the glimmer in her eyes twinge with empathy. She doesn’t ponder over her privacy, or how simple it is for her to go out and do as she pleases. Since his 16th year, he had not been so lucky.
“Of course,” he replies, professionally monotone, as though he can shut off even the faintest flicker of emotion. “S’ my pleasure. How are you feeling? Nervous?”
“Uh, yeah, a little. I’m really jittery and I’ve been drinking water nonstop. On top of that, my bladder is the size of a bean. I’m really good at holding it in though, so I’m not afraid of ruining your seats or anything. Or ... not your seats, but your seats for now. Not like ... not that you were even thinking about that...”
Harry chuckles throughout the entirety of her run-on spoken thoughts. It is never at her – no, never. It is because of her, because despite any situation, she is this fountain of goodness drowning in gold. “Very nervous then?” he teases.
“Yeah ... sorry.”
“No, it’s alright. Nothing to be ashamed about. It’s an important day for you. I’d expect—”
“Turn left on—”
“I’d expect nothing less,” he finishes, lowering the volume of his pesky GPS. “Must be surreal, if anything.” The robotic voice is still present, but becomes more of a background noise that allows them both to speak freely. 
“Oh yeah, completely. It’s like ... it’s like I can’t feel them yet, like movement wise, but ... I don’t know. I guess ... obviously I know they’re in there, but even without movement I can feel them. I know they’re present, heartbeat and everything. Does this – is any of this making sense?”
“Yeah,” he quips amusingly, “it is. Even if it didn’t, doesn’t matter. It makes sense to you and that’s more than enough validation.” 
“Mmm. Right, but it’s still nice to have someone understand.”
Harry sneaks a glance in his peripheral, inhaling and exhaling as to settle into the moment. “I know—”
“In 500 feet, keep right—” 
“What was, uh—” he digs into another topic, the robotic voice somehow a savior that refreshes the conversation. “What you said on the phone about ... Sin City, I think it was?”
“What?”
“You said something about being picked up near Sin City? From your work to your appointment? I thought there might’ve been a store or somethin’ near your job, but I don’t think I saw anything like that.”
“Sin ... oh!” The woman laughs, slapping her knee consciously. “Cindy Sydney. She’s my ... well, yeah, I guess she’s my friend.”
“Cindy Sydney?” he repeats, slowly enunciating every syllable so as to make sure he’s got it right. “Huh. Eh ... that airport story makes more sense. Didn’t know who you were talking about.”
“Yeah, my bad. I know I tend to ramble, probably explains why no one calls me anymore. They can’t even understand what I’m saying.”
“I understood!” he proclaims, expression of his pride lacing around his lazy smile. “Yeah, got it now. Cindy Sydney. That’s really her name? Like ... Phillip Phillips?” 
“No.” The woman laughs, almost choking on her water. “N-No, it’s ... I don’t know her name, to be honest. One of them might be it.”
“Wh—how do you not know?”
“Okay, so basically, I met her maybe a month and a half ago? Somewhere around two months, I guess. And it wasn’t like this everyday sort of meeting at, say, a retail store or something. Can you believe that one night I wake up to use the bathroom I half-pay for, and this woman who I’ve never seen before comes out, no pants, maybe underwear, and what I now assume to be Aaron’s shirt?”
“Aaron?” Harry questions nonchalantly, as though the thought of him is of half-importance. “What, like a—”
“Yeah, so, he usually never brings anyone home. If anything, he’ll go over to someone else’s and come back really early in the morning. So, picture me, pregnant, really loopy because I have to pee, half-awake mind you, running into a complete stranger in my own home.”
Harry adds dramatically, “In the middle of the night!”
“Exactly! So, while I’m tiredly freaking out, trying to not literally piss myself, she’s apologizing and introducing herself. I don’t know if I heard Cindy or Sydney, hence why she’s both, but it could be neither. Anyway, we ended up talking in the hallway and I told her about my situation and why I was living with Aaron. She was actually really nice and offered to drive me whenever I needed a ride.”
“Hmm. Interesting how that played out.” He shoots her a look, to which she can only shrug. “Why haven’t you asked Aaron what her name is?”
“I did! I think he’s annoyed that I befriended his one night stand because he told me her name was Sierra. Then again, he probably doesn’t know himself.”
“Jesus. Why don’t you ask her yourself?”
“Oh, it’s too late for that. I’ll just be extremely awkward. I really do feel bad about it though. She is a nice person, except for, y’know, cancelling on a pregnant woman. I mean, it’s not a huge deal or anything, but ... c’mon. Would you ever do something like that?”
“Dunno,” he playfully smirks, “Maybe if she forgot my name...”
“I didn’t forget it! I never knew it!”
“I’m joking, I’m joking. But I have noticed that you like to play the, uh, the pregnant card a lot.”
“Oh yeah!” she fixes her position on the seat, pulling the seatbelt to her preferred adjustment. “Not a doubt about it. Coming from a place where no one really took me seriously. I mean, yeah, maybe I was a little dramatic when I was younger, but that shouldn’t invalidate my feelings. Now it’s like ... you have to take me seriously. Not only am I going to raise a child on my own, I’m literally growing said child inside of me. Isn’t that just ... just fucking amazing?”
Harry stops at the red stoplight, which he is glad for, because now he can look over and mesmerize at her. He can see before him a woman who smiles at the window, water bottle between her thighs, hands on her belly. It’s grown a bit, he thinks, and it is truly, wonderfully, unimaginably powerful.
“Yeah,” he silently agrees, “fuckin’ amazing.”
The woman smiles, but her wandering eyes suddenly widen with worry. She holds her hands out, an aura around her belly as she props an inch forward. “Did I...” she thinks aloud, “I didn’t ask you how you were doing today. How are you, Harry?”
She looks at him with features full of soft inquiry. The now green light ever so symbolic, he wonders how magical such a mundane thing must be in the dark of the night. “M’ alright,” he answers, pressing on the gas, somewhat wishing that the drive never ends. “Thank you for asking.”
~
Her angled feet dangle from her seat on the examination table. Harry sits in front of her on a separate chair, leaning back in a position juiced with supremacy. His index finger taps against his lips in sync with the tick of the black and white wall clock. 
“So, you work as an orthodontist?”
She looks to Harry with her body stiff in discomfort. “No,” she answers, noticeably quieter in such a mellow area. “Just at the office. I’m a receptionist. Didn’t go to like ... an orthodontist school or anything. Even if I did, I’d probably still be there. Probably takes a lot of years.”
“Right,” he agrees. “A receptionist, then? Do you like it?”
“Sure. It’s not my dream job, but it pays the bills. Plus, I get along with everyone in the office. They’re like ... my distant second family.”
“Alright...” he gradually begins to smile. “What’s your dream job then?”
The woman shrugs, so quickly that it is considerably sad. “I don’t know. I went to community college undecided.”
“What did you graduate in?”
“Well, I got my A.A., but beyond that I haven’t ... finished. I transferred to the nearest University but after a semester or two I just ... I just didn’t finish.” She looks to her lap where her fingers play with the material of her blouse. Harry discreetly frowns at her dejected expression, an ambience of regret seeping out of her system. “It’s hard enough for people to get a job with a Bachelor’s degree. Competition is high, especially in Los Angeles. I’m lucky as it is with just my A.A.”
“Yeah. I understand. M’ sorry for bringing it up. Didn’t mean to pry.”
Her features immediately shine with worry. “No, it’s completely fine. I’m the same way. Always curious.” She forces a laugh, but the intention is sincere enough. “If anything, thank you for asking, or even ... caring at all. Not a lot of people show an interest in me, especially not after this one.”
She points an accusatory finger to her belly, which he takes as another opportunity to marvel. It is so fascinating to him, as he believes it would be to anybody. This power she holds, the strength she gives off. This strange and endearing woman who he had met by questionable circumstances of fate – she opens his eyes to something he’s not quite sure of yet.
“Anyway, being a receptionist is fine for me,” she continues. “I’m basically Pam Beasley except knocked up and without a Jim Halpert. I mean, she was pregnant twice, but by then she was already married.”
Harry narrows his eyes. “I’m sorry, who?”
“Oh ... um, The Office reference.”
“Ah. Alright. Still haven’t seen it.”
“Finished the series again. At least Pam wasn’t a receptionist forever.” She allows her eyes to wander around the room. “...Thanks for coming in with me,” she offers, meekly smiling amidst a thick, awkward air. “I’m sorry if it’s super weird, they’re probably going to assume you’re the dad, so just so you know—”
“Oh—” 
“Just so you can be prepared—”
“Right, no, it’s fine. It’s good. That’s fine.”
“...Really?”
“Of course. I mean ... like, I’m not the father, duh, but it’s harmless. I’m honored to be here with you either way.” 
She looks down to her belly, where her freshly painted nails – she’d recoated for the special occasion – search tenderly. “I didn’t ... picture it like this. Not everyone wants to have a baby, or get married, or things like that. But those who do ... you just can’t help but picture it, y’know? You dream about your wedding, what the venue will look like, what you’ll dance to or wear. Or when you have a kid, you imagine that first look. Your first look at your baby to know they’re actually in there, and you can almost see your whole future right before your eyes.”
By now, Harry is in a trance of both comprehension and disbelief. For him, it is difficult to find people in which he can relate his thoughts to; someone he can honestly understand. With the spontaneous flow of his life, he isn’t able to picture the future as he once did at 16. Yet, as her defenseless words spew out, he contemplates the quick flash in his eyes.
She smiles, and though it does not reach her eyes, it is authentic in the purest sense. “I ... wish the circumstances were different. No one ever really wants to picture it like this.”
He doesn’t find offense in her honestly, no matter how poorly she constructs it. If anything, with his entire body and soul, he aches to turn back time. “I understand,” he says, because while she most certainly does not need or depend on the father, she had pictured it differently. He knows that she had pictured herself to be in love instead of broken and built up again. She doesn’t need him, but she wants him, at least a little bit. It is for that that he can never entirely hate him.
“...Except you,” she confesses shyly. “And I’m not just saying that for obvious reasons. If you weren’t here, I’d be alone. I probably wouldn’t even be here. That’s why I’m always thanking you, because it really does mean more than you can imagine. Being alone is fine, I can sort of manage, but ... it’s nicer to have someone with you, y’know?”
“...Yeah.” Harry blushes, failing to cover it up with a cough and a sniffle. “I’m ... I know. I understand.”
The sound of the door unlatching rattles their bodies. “Hi!” the doctor storms in, breaking their moment. The two of them smile, the pregnant woman nods as her name from the lips of the lady in the form of a question. “This must be papa?”
The pregnant woman silently snickers at her oh-so-psychic abilities. She offers Harry a witty raise of the brow, but due to the blindness of her pride, she fails to recognize the cheeky glint in his eyes. As she opens her mouth to deny the doctor’s innocent assumption, Harry chimes in and steals her words. Except, they’re not her words at all.
“Yes,” he announces, his accent supplying to the playful sarcasm of his tone. “Yes, that is me. As Maury would say ... I am the father.” 
To say she is shocked ... well, it is not all that off-character. Harry is a humorous man, one that loves to entertain. The statement makes her do a double-take, jaw opening with a single throaty chuckle. He responds with an animated grin and cartoon wink – how can she not play along?
“Right.” She nods. “This is my baby daddy ... Halpert.”
Harry snickers, but covers it with a cough. “Halpert. Yes. Says so on my birth certificate.”
The doctor smiles at them both, amused by their charade. She has probably seen many acts in this office, so she lets their humor be. Besides that, she begins by asking a few simple questions, reconfirming everything before directing the woman to lie on her back.
“Sorry I didn’t dress practically,” she discloses, “I just came from work. Didn’t really have time to change, or even think about bringing clothes to change into.”
“It’s no problem. We’ll just open this up...” The doctor starts with the lowest button on her blouse, continuing to undo the following three. “And lower this down a little,” she continues, carefully dragging the upper part of her pencil skirt down until her belly is nicely exposed.
The pregnant woman tries to ignore the discomfort that she feels. Firstly, lying on her back is a nightmare without her pillow. Secondly, with her blouse pried open, a mere centimeter of her bra peaks out. Harry sitting next to her is the third basis of her discomfort, intense concentration on his part with the upmost awareness. The fourth, the icing on the cake, is like literal icing. While the doctor had told her to prepare for the cool gel, it doesn’t make it any less frosty on her skin.
Despite it all, her minds swivels around a haze. The doctor’s equipment runs along her stomach, eager to discover. Her hands clench without her noticing. She feels as if her lungs run out of oxygen – she forgets to breathe! Nothing is important to her other than what the doctor has to say about what can be seen on that unreadable screen, the one where she strains her neck to catch even a glimpse of meaningless motion.
She looks to the doctor, taking in every feature that may indicate something, anything. She momentarily forgets about Harry, who leans forward in his seat, risking everything by placing a hand over her knuckles. She doesn’t notice. All she can focus on is the doctor’s smile.
“Found them,” she announces, continuing her movement with more confidence than before. 
“You...” the pregnant woman’s chest deflates. Her breath hitches, needing more than two words to convince her that everything is okay. “...You found?”
“Yes. There’s the head,” the doctor points to the screen, brown muck never more beautiful. “the body...” The woman listens, matching up the body part with the picture on the screen. A wave of newfound contentment vanishes every worry away – almost, because really, she can’t help herself. “Everything looks great, mama.”
“Mom...” she stumbles out, swallowing thickly as her fingers fall loose. She shakes her head, overcome with every emotion she’s ever known on top of those that are entirely new to her.
Harry smiles at her, noticing the light drips swaying down her cheeks. “That’s your baby,” he says, disregarding the possibility of destroying his cover as Halpert. He himself begins to empathize with this woman, this calm of a storm that he’s only known for a few short weeks. “Congratulations.”
“C—” She can’t seem to tear her eyes away from the screen, the ache in her neck multiplying, but she just doesn’t care. “My baby...” she speaks softly, the room almost entirely silent, but still it feels like there are a million things going on at once. And yes, she is smiling. She is over the moon, over this entire universe and the next. It is dangerous territories to be so elevated, and she knows this to be true when she begins to feel the low.
~
A bitter California sun never truly settles. When she walks out of the imaging center, heels scraping against the dry and jagged sidewalk, she winces and sighs. Her blouse now intact, her skirt lifted again, but the residue of the gel makes it stick to her skin more than any perspiration. In her hands, she holds onto the envelope with the printed pictures of her son or daughter – she doesn’t know yet. With the baby’s position, it had been a little hard to tell. She’s relieved for it though. There had only been so much that she could absorb in such a short, life-changing moment. 
Harry follows after her, already with his shaded sunglasses scooted close to his face. He mimics her position as she leans against the side of the Toyota, staring down at an enclosed envelope. Very steadily, she lifts the flap open and slides the picture out, running a thumb over the body of her child. 
“Sorry you couldn’t find out the gender today,” he speaks up, observing the way she cradles the print. It is natural, the way she possesses that tender quality of a mother. “Must have ... must be—”
“It’s fine,” she says, not wanting to hear the end of his sentence. “It’s not like I’ll never know.” 
“Right.”
“Right.”
“Good. Still a beautiful moment, eh?”
“Yeah...”
“Thank you for letting me be a part of it.”
She looks up at him, but the connection is blocked by his sunglasses. She smiles either way. “You’re welcome. That sounds weird to be saying.”
He looks down, ankles crossed, hands in his pocket. “I know I can’t, um ... ever know what you’re feeling, but ... how are you feeling?”
“...Good?”
“What I mean is ... I’ve never been to an ultrasound. I’ve been friends with lots of pregnant women, and I know that doesn’t mean I have a clue about ... I just, for the moments like these, I imagine the woman to be happy. Happier than happy, and I just ... I don’t know. How are you feeling?”
A period of elongated seconds pass as the pregnant woman considers his talk. Birds chirp, an ambulance sounds in the near distance, and the faintest wind kisses her face with the leaves of the rustling trees. “I’m ... happy,” she answers truthfully, closing her eyes as the burn in her chest rises up her throat and to her nose.
“And...” Harry presses on, noticing how her answer hangs off the edge of a cliff.
She swallows, face molding like a ceramic statue on which the rain pours. “...And scared.” Her voice quivers. She doesn’t want to open her eyes. She’s far too cowardly to envision the colors. 
Harry stands still, watching as she unravels the rawest parts of her. He doesn’t want to ask why – it should be obvious to everyone. She is a single mother-to-be. Her life is moving quicker than she could have ever imagined. Of course, she is scared. It would be strange of her not to be. Therefore, he doesn’t ask, but instead calls to her. In a faint second, she breathes in, coming alive to the world again. Her shaky hands wipe frantically at her blinking eyes, a sorry attempt to erase the remnants of her weakness.
“God...” she scoffs. “I can’t – why am I crying? This is so dumb.”
Harry shakes his head, his entire body now turning to her. “No, it’s not. So, you’re scared. Everyone is. I am. Why wouldn’t you want to be scared?”
“Because I don’t know what I’m doing!” she bellows, entirely turning to him. As her words sink in and flow on, he slides off his glasses, letting them hang from the fine stitch of his t-shirt collar. “Or – or what I’m going to do. I’m ... I was a child yesterday. That’s what it felt like. I was ... searching for independence and purpose and now I’m...” A breath trickles out. “I don’t want to ruin this child, Harry. But I have absolutely no clue what I’m doing.”
“No,” Harry argues. “No, you won’t. I know you won’t. You’re going to do everything you possibly can for your child. That alone makes you an incredible mum.” By now, his hands are on her shoulders, thumbs absentmindedly smoothening her nerves. “And incredible mums don’t know the answer to everything, that’s what makes them so incredible. They don’t know anything!”
She sniffles at the sidewalk. “Yours does,” she mumbles, indicating how well-rounded she sees this kind man. The manner in which he had been raised ... he is a foundation for reckless excellence.
“To be fair, I’m her second child,” he reasons, even tittering a little. “When she had my sister, she didn’t know what she was doing ... but she learned. Even after all these years, she’s still learning. You can’t expect yourself to be perfect ... at least, perfect without any flaws. You’re scared, that’s ... it’s important. You can’t skip that stage, alright?”
She reluctantly nods, but she has to admit to herself that his charisma is magical. To be a mother at her age – perhaps it is not uncommon. Yet, it is a vague new-coming of an experience. This growth that she possesses, her body ever-changing in the autumn to spring, the little person that will resemble parts of her and no one else. If that is not a future more uncertain...
“You’re going to be excellent. An excellent mum. And you’re not alone. You have Aaron. Maybe Cindy Sydney Sierra, if her aunt’s not visiting ... and you always have a friend in me.”
...but how sad it would be to plan every waking moment and every dying night. How safe it would feel to stumble upon no surprise. In the end, a future without uncertainty is no future at all. She doesn’t know what she will do when her baby fusses and whines and drives their mother to insanity. Previously oblivious of the happiness it will bring, the overwhelming flutter in her chest is a euphoric feeling like no other. To love another person unconditionally, entirely – to be loved in return – that is the greatest and only certainty she will never need.
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sergeanttpoliteness · 5 years
Text
➹embroidered hearts➹(ps4 peter parker x reader)
Requested by anon➝  hi! idk if you’re taking requests right now, but if you are, do you think you could write something for ps4 peter parker? maybe like a friends to lovers thing. thanks!
You just... really liked to disappear, huh? To vanish, slip from his fingers. Except that this time Peter found you, caught you before you left once again, which may have just been exactly what you needed.
word count: 2.7k
a/n: holy wowowow, this isn’t a false alarm, y’all-- i actually posted! i’m sososo happy i finally did, and i’m really sorry about how long it took me to do so. school drained all my motivation but exams just finished this friday so i decided to get this done once and for all. i’m shocked that i finally liked something i wrote this month, it’s progress (’: anyway, here’s something for 1 pretty boy whom i love very much, i hope the nonnie who requested it likes it! (: also i had a terrible allergy while editing this so if there are any mistakes pls know that it’s hard to write while sneezing every five seconds. hope this week is great for you bc u deserve it, ok, ily that’s it adios (last thing lol, expect some noir stuff next and that beter sequel eye emoji)
Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes since you told him you were going to the bathroom with a wavering smile, and you were nowhere to be seen. Peter set his empty glass of water on the table for the third time— God, he experienced a déjà vu that left him stumped and everything, and as he watched the crystal liquid stream from the pitcher, he could also sense his bladder protesting against all the suffering he kept putting it through. Nonetheless, he simply thanked the waiter for the refill, or else he was sure that if he didn’t continue drowning himself, the disquiet abounding in his system as a result of your unknown whereabouts would strangle him with its unnerving claws. Perhaps the entrance dish bombarded your stomach (if so, then he hoped you were alright), or the toilet devoured you and swallowed you down the drain. Two-year-old him never trusted the porcelain seat, after all (it... was an actual fear of his, actually). However, past all those justifications and silly fears, he knew something wasn’t right, for there existed no chance you’d simply vanish just like that after the anxiety for tonight nearly eroding you alive, and you wouldn’t surrender an opportunity for a promotion... right?
He scanned the party room, through the many dresses and tuxedos either standing by still or swaying together, awkwardness raining over and staining his skin when he recalled he was the last remaining person in the table after everyone else retired to chat with other fancy people. He surely didn’t fit in that category, neither was he acquainted with anyone — he wasn’t even invited, for crying out loud, rather you were the reason for his attendance; still, you weren’t there. He considered possibly checking the bathroom to make sure you seriously hadn’t died, because you weren’t answering any of his calls and... oh, no.
Your boss walked on stage and tapped the microphone, a muffled thud reverberating through the speakers. “Good evening, everyone! I’m glad the night’s been such a lovely one, I hope you’re all having a great time.” The man — Peter couldn’t remember his name, honestly — spoke, a charismatic grin that paraded his astonishing dental care on his face. Though no alluring smile impeded Peter from panicking further or his limbs from driving him out of his chair and into the tight space in between a cluster of intimidating guests, looking identical to a little kid who couldn’t find his parents at the supermarket.
“Where are you, Y/N?” He muttered to himself, a question he’d reiterated in his head far too often for the past seven months. A haze of amazement and disbelief encompassed his brain when you called him to ask to come as his date— all he could do was blink, his throat clogged up and his heart so unbelieving as if you died and had risen from your tomb, but you might as well have and he wouldn’t have even known, because it’s what it seemed following such a tediously long time of dead silence, of not seeing that lopsided grin of yours, of nothing. It should’ve pushed him away, if anything, although how could it? How could his stunned little heart let you go after you’d embroidered yourself into it, sewn the threads, a perennial string that led back to you, the first day you met? And yet you still gripped it closely, unwilling to detach as he desperately dialed your number again, his stomach diving faster down to the Earth’s core whilst your boss’ speech went on and a high-pitched beep rang in his ear. ‘The person you have called is unavailable right now...’ Not a good sign. No, most definitely not.
“However, I’d like to invite on stage a person who we appreciate greatly in the company,” ‘The person you have called is un—’ Peter hung up, over that goddamn message that always appears to torment him, and grimaced as your boss studied the crowd with proud eyes. “Please, a big round of applause for Y/N Y/L/N!”
The room exploded with sophisticated cheering, but it declined gracelessly, the clapping stuttering, fully ceasing when the moments dragged on and no one entered the spotlight. The leader squinted, visibly distressed, brows perplexed as he leaned closer to the lady beside him. “Y/N... did make it tonight, correct?” He whispered too loudly, gossip escalating in the audience. Peter bit his lip, stepping back closer to the exit door until a rough hand clutched his sleeve. 
“Hey, you’re Y/L/N’s boyfriend, right?” An older man with fuming blue eyes and a bald spot questioned, spit flying but thankfully not anywhere near Peter who sputtered, chest warming up when his tongue failed him, became tangled in his mouth.
“Wha... n-no, we’re just friends—”
 “I don’t care. Listen, if that idiot is not here right now then I’m gonna be in deep shit.”
Peter’s brows furrowed with anger, “Hey, shut up, man— Y/N’s not an idiot.” He snapped, but the guy barely flinched and rolled his eyes as he let go of the taller young man. 
“Just do something!” He hissed, equally as bitter and prodding his chest before disappearing into the crowd.
Peter opened the double doors and sped down the hallway straight to the bathrooms with a sour mood; however, before he knocked, a figure outside the window captivated him and calmed his hammering heartbeat. It... couldn’t be you. Why would you be out there? He surveyed the area, and when he saw no sign of another person or any security cameras, he unfastened the window’s lock and slid it open.
Could he have gone outside like a normal human being? Yeah, sure, except that— first — where’s the fun in that, and second, he didn’t want to walk all the way to the other side of the building— it was an emergency, or at least that’s the excuse he’d use if anyone caught him as he landed softly on the grass. It was indeed you, he realized, sat on a bench, observing nothing in particular unless the building under construction across the street held any trace of beauty in your eyes. He stopped a few feet away from you, mouth twitching. “Is this seat taken?”
You almost jumped into space and out of orbit, your neck whipping around, large frightened eyes gradually lightening when they took him in. There it was. That lopsided grin, unchanging from when you were a sophomore in college apart from the darker under eye circles. And there was his own shy smile, too, accompanied by the blush that stained his face, like red wine spilled over a tablecloth. “Yes, actually, by my imaginary friend Pedro.” You patted the area beside you, on the supposed Pedro’s knee, and he sneaked his hands inside his blazer’s pockets, feigning disapproval.
“You exchanged me for a Pedro?”
“He’s a nice guy.” You giggled as he sat down next to you, your stare fixed on your lap. “Let me guess: I messed up the night and that’s why you’re looking for me.” You said, playfulness faltering and insecurity peeking its head in, and he noticed how it sculpted your expression and body language with its discouragement. 
“Not exactly, no. I was still going to look for you, but a jerk who called you an idiot really needed me to do so.” He grumbled, irritation returning as a combo along with remembrance of the incident. You didn’t reach, though; you solely raised your eyebrows, unruffled, your friend more afflicted albeit he wasn’t the one who was called an idiot. 
“A short guy that kinda looks like an odd mix between John Stamos and Danny Devito?” You queried. Peter rebuilt the man’s appearance in his head, and you had to laugh at his raw shock when he recognized the accuracy of your comparison. He... really did look like that, seriously, it’s the most bizarre combination you could think of. “Yeah, that’s Jonathan. We’re not exactly best pals.”
“I kinda figured that out, Stavito didn’t look so happy.” A smile flourished on his countenance as quickly as a match is set alight after you cackled, your hand flying up to your mouth to mute your laughter.
“Stavito? Man, now he’s gonna hate me even more because I’m never gonna stop using that one.” You shook your head, rubbing your crinkled eyes. He hummed, loosening his tie, wearing a crooked grin that you fathomed meant incoming pain for you—
“He’s gonna stab-ito you!”
Jesus Christ. You let out a drawn-out breath and picked up your legs, expression similar to a parent seeing their kid’s report card. “I hate you. This friendship’s on hold until further notice.”
“It was a great pun!”
“Was not.” You objected, although both of your bodies shook with hilarity. He looked at you, the moon painting silver strokes on your tranquil frame, the delight in him for just being by your side too much that his stare lingered; though not for long, for your attention strayed up to him and his eyes immediately shifted down to his hands, his leg restless, bustling.
“Why are you out here? We could’ve left if that’s what you wanted.” He said, brows knitted. You changed to a cross-legged position, rolling your lips.
“I originally was just going to take a five-minute stroll, but once I sat down here, I just couldn’t go back inside.” You confessed, shrugging. Gloom reemerged, drooping the corners of your lips, striking a spike of ice in your gut— the frost trickled up and down your body, goosebumps of sorrow growing over your skin. “I’m sorry I’m such a terrible friend. Jonathan’s right: I am an idiot.” You whispered.
He held in his breath, blank on what to say. “Why would you think that?”
You snorted, expression unamused. “They’re facts, Pete. Good friends don’t just… fall off the face of Earth without a warning.”
“I’m… sure you had your reasons.”
“They weren’t good reasons, though. I should’ve at least told you something. But I bet it was nice to get a break from me, huh?” You joked, hurt and self-doubt seeping through your voice.
He frowned, immediately denying with his head. “Why would I want to get a break from you? Y/N, we don’t even get to see each other that much. If anything, I…” He halted, gulping. “I-I want to see you more.” He admitted quietly.
Your bewilderment was dim but still present as you ran your hand up and down your arm. “You’re dumb. You could spend your time with people who are actually great but you want to spend it with me.”
“Yeah, well, if I am dumb so what? I still wouldn’t change my mind.” He argued, a line in between his brows. You sighed, sliding down the metal seat, your eyes shut as you tilted your head back. 
“Peter, stop, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do, though. I mean, yeah, it… it hurt a bit,” Peter raised one shoulder, aware that it hurt more than just ‘a bit’. “I thought you decided to break contact, but it’s okay, really.”
“Give yourself some love, it’s not okay that I hurt you like that.” You momentarily put your hand on his, repentance etched on your features. “You didn’t deserve that.”
“We’re talking again, though, that’s all that matters.” He brushed you off, raising up to his feet. The guilt still held you, played with you like a doll, but the reassuring quirk of the corner of his mouth somewhat relieved it. “We should go back inside, don’t want you catching a cold or Stavito getting fired.”
“He’s not gonna get fired, he’s just way too over dramatic.” You grunted, showing your clear distaste for the John Stamos and Danny Devito love child. Peter lent out his hand but you blinked at it, chuckling uncomfortably. “Don’t you rather stay out a bit more? The sky looks great tonight— I can see a few more stars than usual.” You pointed at the dark blanket of nebulae and astral bodies. He glanced up, close to dropping to the ground to inspect the night sky until he heard the stifled music from the party.
“We can stargaze once the event’s over.” He promised, gesturing with his head to the building. It was then when he distinguished the dread in your eyes.
“...Are you sure you don’t want to do it now? What if it gets too cloudy?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Is everything alright? Why don’t you want to go back in there?”
You tried to utter another excuse, but you couldn’t. The ire at yourself made your hands tremble, set your mouth in a hard line as you were incapable of looking right at him, the humiliation far too much.
“I hate my job.”
Peter sat back down, staring at you, his expression sad. “You know, I spent the entirety of high school and started college with this idea of what I wanted my future to be like. But now that I did it, now that I’m actually there, I’m so… bored with everything. I don’t know what to do. Like, what am I supposed to do now? Go to work and what else? Because if that’s all there is to my life, I don’t know why I should even bother with it.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Peter what am I doing?” You scoffed, scowling. “Look at me: what the hell am I bringing to the world? You’ve got FEAST, and just got that job with Otto Octavius— you’re… so amazing and will do so many great things. The world needs you. I need you. We all do.” You mumbled, voice breaking.
His sight gravitated down to your lonely hand that rested so near to his, that had the string running from his heart encircled around its ring finger, beckoning him closer. His fingers reached out slowly, hesitantly, with great fear. But he wound up grazing your hand, and then he fully wrapped his own around it— around the artist that sewed a handiwork of untouchable adoration into him. “But what if I...” He began, struggling to come clean. “What if I...” He saw your anticipating gaze.
“I need you, too.” He whispered.
Your view averted down to your linked hands and then up at the boy unknowing that he, just like you had to him, had tailored a piece of himself in you long ago. You hugged him. Crumbled, snuggled deep into him, allowing yourself to accept that hand reaching out to you, to surrender to comfort. He hugged you back with as much gentleness and warmth, his chin on top of your head. “You should give yourself some love, too.” He murmured and you let out air through your nose, agreeing with him. “You’ll find your way because you’re incredible, alright? I just wish you could see that.”
Seven months weren’t eons, Peter acknowledged, but perhaps they could be; perhaps they were enough to view everything differently, past that veil that cloaked his eyes, past the doubt and uncertainty, because there was something distinctive in your familiar smile when you pulled away. Something unusual as you sat straight, your eyes drifting sideways to him. “I guess we can help each other with that self-love thing.” You suggested.
He got the hint in your voice, and all of a sudden, he figured out what that something was; but he didn’t want to accept the truth that crashed against him when he realized that it wasn’t new. No, it’d been there all along.
He could try to believe.
“Maybe we could, uh, we could go out for dinner some… some time. Get started with some good food, y’know…” His tone was quiet and he couldn’t have resembled better a nervous teenage boy asking his crush to dance on prom night as he wrinkled his nose in embarrassment.
You faked a cynical expression, despite already knowing the answer in your soul. “Some time?”
“Or never, if that’s what you prefer.” He laughed tensely, his eyes growing wide when he turned his head and cursed at himself internally. You smiled to yourself, moving a strand of hair out of your face.
“How about tonight?”
“Tonight? Like…” He checked his wristband, only to remember it wasn’t a watch. “...tonight? What about the event—”
“Forget the event,” You stood up, and now you were the one stretching out your hand to him. “C’mon, let’s look for some restaurants because why not, am I right?”
Peter clutched your hand, the contentment a welcomed compensation for all those months of not seeing you.
“Yeah, why not?”
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e1ana · 4 years
Text
leisure writing :)
recently by brain has been all AHHHHHHDHHBSGDVJHS BCHJNNH and its really negatively impacted my writing, especially for my fics :( 
i’ve decided to go on a short hiatus for them for a bit to let my brain catch up. i’ve just been writing random stuff and letting it go in a n y direction to give my brain  break and i think??? this might??? be the best?????? decision ive ever made????? my brain just feels so un-fried. its awesome. 
so far it seems to be taking the shape of a YoI fic? idk. I just finished the show for the second time and i absolutely love it! I guess by brain’s been wired on Yuri!!! for a bit now so i’m not surprised at the direction its headed.
i’m still letting it go in any direction though, and i’m not sure if im going to put it up in a03 (i might if i decide i like it, but im not working on it with the intent of uploading it.)
so yeah. here’s the first bit of that. i though i’d upload it on here just bc i can and idk what else to do with it. hope you enjoy :) rating is teen bc of some cursing but thats it
(korkad means stupid in swedish)
Rain.
It wasn’t a loud sound - just the gentle pitter-patter of it against a window can paint a room in a quiet, soothing blanket of white noise. Viktor Nikiforov buries himself further in his comforter. Mid April drizzles really were something else. 
Begrudgingly, VIktor pulls himself from his bed. He looks out of his beside window to find a sunset that perfectly matched with the serene morning rain. 
He yawns and stretches, a soft grumble coming from his lips. He stands up and walks to his kitchen. Every morning is practically the same - wake up, debate going back to sleep, brush teeth/expensive and extensive skincare, eat, and go straight to the rink. Getting up at 7 am might sound overkill, but the lax speed of Viktor’s early morning routine needs extra breathing room.
He drags a hand full of some kind of sweet smelling lotion down his face, massaging it in with the melting pot of other creams and serums. The concoction is thick on his face, though not totally unpleasant. Viktor feels a bit more invigorated now, the cold water startling him up. Nevertheless, he starts the coffee machine. He swings his legs as he sits atop the counter and scrolls through his instagram. A sharp pinch on the cheek startled him from his trance.
“I told you to stop sitting on the counter, korkad. Nobody wants to cook on your ass juice.”
Ah, the overlooked step to the routine - cope with an insufferable roomate at ‘too early’ am.
“Good morning, Chris. I hope you slept well.”
Maybe insufferable wasn’t the right word for Chris normally, but his unrivalled snark and Viktor’s early morning sluggishness were not a fantastic mix. Chris grabs him by the sweatshirt and nearly yanks him off of the marble tabletop. He makes a show of wiping the area where Viktors butt once was. Finally, the sweet sound of gurgling and spluttering signifies the end of the coffee maker’s cycle. 
Viktor pours in a fairly reasonable amount of sweetened cream, the dark brown going caramel colored and scented. He takes a long gulp, downing half the mug in one go. He looks up at Chris, who is now leaning against counter one on arm and glaring. He offers a smile at the glowering man.
“Okay, now you can be a sassy bitch.”
Chris rolls up the towel and flicks it at Viktor’s butt, drawing an undignified squeak from the slightly shorter man. He snorts a laugh, but thankfully gives Viktor his space for the rest of the morning. 
He finishes the rest of his coffee quickly, the caffeine already buzzing through his brain. He checks his watch - nearly time to leave. He packs a few protein bars and water bottles along with his sweets and shirt. He calls out to Chris before grabbing his keys and locking the door. 
He pulls his sweatshirt hood a little tighter around his face, slipping into his freezing cold car. He clicked on the heat, despising how long it took for the damn thing to heat up. 
The drive to the rink was slow today. He wasn’t in any rush, and the slow rain hitting the metal roof of his car made for a nice serenade. He watched the outside pass by slowly, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel absentmindedly. 
When he pulled up to the rink, he noticed two things. One, it was bustling with activity. Usually, the place looked practically deserted at nine in the morning. The swarms of people and clicking cameras were an odd sight. 
Two, a man stands outside of the rink, wringing his wrists. He bites his lips and looks impossibly nervous. He blinks a couple of times before waving his hands frantically at one of the reporters. Viktor can’t help but laugh out loud in the solitude of his car. He pulls into the driveway, eyeing the dark haired man the whole time.
He’s vaguely familiar - Viktor’s sure he’s seen those blue framed glasses sitting on some side bench at some competition somewhere. He isn’t unattractive either. His black hair and brown eyes contrast with the pale skin of his babyish face. It gives him a look of purity. It’s a nice look. Admittedly, it’s aided by the ample blush on his cheeks and the way he rocks from foot to foot nervously. It’s a very cute habit, Viktor’s always thought.
Victor steps out of his car. Maybe he slams his car door a little louder than normal to make some of the reporters turn their heads, maybe he doesn’t. Regardless, they’re hounding on him in seconds, asking about this jump and that score. He answers all of their questions with a blinding smile, hoping that his glance towards the man goes unnoticed. Well, rather, where the man was. The glass door swings violently and Viktor catches his bag disappearing around a corner.
It takes longer than Viktor would've liked to get rid of the reporters and slip into the rink. His tight routine is now skewed fifteen minutes late. He stretches quickly and laces up his skates as quickly as possible to increase his time on the ice. 
He approaches the entrance gate, one foot already on the ice when something whirrs by him. His gaze is captured by none other than the man who was stood outside. 
Immediately, Viktor becomes enraptured with him. All he's doing is skating around the perimeter of the rink. Somehow, though, the swinging strides of his legs and the way his arms lift ever so slightly from the elbows when he glides paint him in the picture of grace. Viktor can’t help but stare as he completes another circle. Finally, when the man passes him a third time, he turns to look at Viktor. The grey haired man’s cheeks heat up under his unsettled gaze.
“Do you need some-”
Red creeps up the neck of the other man, his eyes widening when he realized who he’s talking to. He spins back around and pushes off even faster than before. 
Viktor steps onto the ice, heart pounding. Fuck. Fuuuck. He internally moans at the increasing awkwardness in the air. Damn his annoying fame and prestige! Here he was, embarrassing himself in front of someone he vaguely remembered who could potentially be important and was definitely attractive. Embarrassing himself just by existing. 
Whatever. He flicks his ankle out, starting a slow circle around the rink. If an onlooker glaneed over, it might look like the other man was chasing him. Though it was practically the other way around, Viktor considered. 
Eventually, Viktor felt warm enough to do some actual exercises. A few combination spins, a few brackets. Nothing obscene. He starts his program once he feels his joints ease into the jumps. 
The feeling isn't the same as the first time he did the program. Victory - it was the theme of his piece. Clearly, it’d gotten him where he wanted the first few times. The thrill of first place was incredible. It inspired him so much, the feeling of winning pushing forth his every movement. It had felt so overwhelmingly good. Now, after his fifth medal, the program didn’t mean much. His publicist had pushed him to do the same program every year, if not with a few major improvements each time.
Regardless of how many new spins or complicated jumps he added, the piece was tired. He was bored of this. There was simply no other way to put it. Even as he landed the perfectly executed triple axle that had been worked into his program, Viktor felt his heart sag.
He ran through the program a few more times, each with decreasing vigor. He didn’t even notice the man skate by him (albeit with a wide berth) and exit the rink. Drenched in sweat and disappointment, Viktor literally laid down on the ice. Maybe it wasn’t the most professional move in the book, but the freezing cold felt good on his hot skin. He hummed and got back to his feet, skating one last cool down lap before exiting and sliding on his blade covers.
He took a cold shower. Unusual, but the weight of the day didn't seem like it could just be melted away. He closed his eyes, letting the freezing water run down his body. It soothes is aching muscles and bones. Technically, the hot alternative would be better at melting away the lactic acid in his muscles. He could have a long soak in the tub when he got home, though - the temporary relief of cold water was more than satisfactory for now. 
He stepped out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his hips. The cool air inside of the building almost felt warm in contrast to Viktor’s cold skin. He pulled on a new shirt and pants.
Viktor was surprised to see the other man slinging his bag over his shoulder. He didn’t appear to see the higher ranking skater, ad he sidled to the door without a second glance. Before he stepped out, though, he turned and froze. 
“I… uh…” he paused and looked up, searching for the right words. “I wanted to thank you for earlier. You know. With the reporters. So, uh. Thanks.”
Before Viktor could pipe back with a cheery ‘no problem’ or ‘the pleasure's all mine, tell me your name and let me take you for a drink in my very expensive sports car,’ the man was gone. Viktor followed suit as fast as he could, but there was no catching the man now. Gone, forever.
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yoon-kooks · 7 years
Text
Beginner’s Luck
Pairing: Seokjin x Reader
Summary: You were never a believer in online dating, but things weren’t exactly working out offline either. So what was it that you were missing?
Genre: Fluff, Gamer!AU
Word Count: 3.5k
Prompt: “Can I kiss you?” (request by anon)
You laid on your bed staring at your phone screen, mindlessly swiping left. Your best guy friend, Jungkook, had suggested you try out some dating apps since meeting people face-to-face was a bit difficult for a shy snowflake like yourself.
It had been a few hours since Jungkook had set up an account for you, but you had yet to find someone who really caught your eye. Not that looks were all that important to you anyway. If anything, you’d prefer not to see their face and just get to know their personality instead.
“You might as well deactivate your account if you have no intentions of swiping right,” Jungkook glanced over at you before turning back to his laptop screen, “Shit, I just died.”
“I just don’t get how meeting someone online could ever work,” you rolled over to see what your friend had “died” in. All you saw were a bunch of little anime characters running around attacking a giant fish that literally took up half the screen. “I haven’t seen this game before… Is it new?”
“Ya! It came out a few days ago and I’ve been hooked ever since!” The boy clicked something to revive his character and travelled back to where you assumed the giant fish was. “You should play too since I haven’t made too many friends yet!”
“What about Tae?” You tried to avoid getting yourself involved in Jungkook’s gaming addiction by name-dropping the other gamer in your friend group.
“Nah, I asked him but he’s too busy playing Overwatch,” Jungkook shrugged. “The boy’s an addict, I tell ya.” You rolled your eyes at the biggest addict you knew.
“Well what about the people you met in the game?”
“There’s this one guy, Jinnamon, who goes to the same school as us, and I actually met up with him the other day in person.” The boy cursed under his breath after dying again. “He’s a pretty cool dude, but he kept making weird dad jokes.”
“If that’s your only complaint, he can’t be that bad, right?”
“I suppose…” Jungkook finally just flipped his laptop over and rage-quit after dying for a third time. “I GIVE UP. Here, if you don’t wanna make your own account, just use mine because I’m 100% done with this shit. It’s a stupid game anyway.” You snickered at the boy’s childish temper because you knew he’d be back online after a few hours of boredom. But in the meantime, you decided to check out the game that had gotten him all fired up.
It wasn't just a fighting game, you learned. There were also little mini games and quests you could do with other people, and also places just for chatting. You walked around the town where most people gathered for a little while and then headed to where you thought the giant fish was. It took you about ten minutes to find it, but once you did, you started hitting random buttons on the keyboard to use all different types of magic on the fish. And before you knew it, the fish had been slayed so you picked up the fish bone that dropped. You didn’t understand why a veteran gamer like Jungkook had had such a hard time defeating the monster when it had been so easy for a newbie like yourself. But what were you supposed to do next??
“Hey Kookie?” You tapped the shoulder of the boy who had fallen asleep on your bed, but he was out. Probably because he had stayed up all night playing the game. Not wanting to interrupt his sleep, you decided to ask someone else.
You searched for some kind of messaging system within the game, and once you did, you realized you were only able to message people on your friend list. Since Jungkook had specifically mentioned that Jinnamon guy, you clicked on his name to start a chat.
Nochu: “um hi”
Jinnamon: “oh its u again”
Jinnamon: “i thought u left me lol”
Nochu: “no that was my friend ^^;; he didnt like your dad jokes lol”
Jinnamon: “wait ur friend? u mean jungkook? who r u then o.o?”
Nochu: “Y/N”
Jinnamon: “o im seokjin btw but just call me jin ok”
Nochu: “lol i understand your username now. thats cute😹”
Jinnamon: “rlly? most ppl hate my puns LIKE UR FRIEND”
Nochu: “wowow someones salty hehe”
Jinnamon: “im NOT”
Nochu: “you kinda are /:”
Jinnamon: “ANYWAY. why is a peasant like u speaking to me?”
Nochu: “peasant???”
Jinnamon: “obviously knights like me are superior to mages like u”
Nochu: “i dont really know what youre talking about but okay???”
Jinnamon: “wow what a noob”
Nochu: “gtg bye”
Jinnamon: “WAIT. im just kidding! rlly. what do u need?”
Nochu: “i killed a fish and idk what to do???”
Jinnamon: “lol what fish?”
Nochu: “the big one in the cave that takes up like half the screen? idk what its called”
Jinnamon: “wHAT”
Nochu: “???”
Jinnamon: “pics or it didnt happen”
Nochu: “what pics?? all i have is this fish bone item???”
Jinnamon: “tHATS THE QUEST ITEM OMFG U RLLY DID KILL IT WTF”
Nochu: “what do i do with it?????”
Jinnamon: “give it to me of course lol”
Nochu: “how do i do that?”
Jinnamon: “omg u rlly r a noob”
Nochu: “what?? ive never played this before!! how am i supposed to know??”
Jinnamon: “first of all the trading option is on the bottom right of the screen”
Jinnamon: “and second dont just give away ur quest items to strangers lol”
Jinnamon: “so now that we cleared that up, what r u gonna do with the fish bone?”
Nochu: “give it to u???”
Jinnamon: “omfg no… ur hopeless”
Jinnamon: “i guess i have no choice but to take u under my wing”
Jinnamon: “can we meet up?”
Nochu: “like in person??????”
Jinnamon: “ya its easier to explain this stuff in person”
You thought about it for a moment. Jungkook did say he met up with this Seokjin guy before and that he was a pretty cool dude from your university, so it was safe to assume he wasn’t a creeper at the very least.
Nochu: “okay lets meet in front of the school library in an hour?”
Jinnamon: “got it~ ill send u my number so we can text”
You logged out of the game and packed Jungkook’s laptop into your bag. Honestly, you were beyond nervous about meeting Seokjin in person. While you were fairly comfortable with keeping up a conversation with him in the game, you weren’t sure how things would go outside of that environment. But you reminded yourself that the two of you would have the game to talk about, so there was no reason to worry about any awkward silences.
You glanced at the mirror to check your outfit before scolding yourself for making it seem like a date. Just as you walked out of your apartment, you silently said bye to Jungkook who was still dead asleep.
It was a sunny day on campus, a nice change from the darkness in your room that Jungkook loved to play his games in. When you reached the library, you scanned the area for an empty bench to sit on as you waited. But thanks to your luck, all the benches were occupied with at least one person. Of course, there was still room for you to sit next to someone, but the thought of that gave you butterflies.
Just when you were about to take a seat on the brick wall instead, you noticed a lone boy sitting at one end of one of the longer benches. If you sat there, it probably wouldn’t be so bad since there would be a fair amount of space between you and the boy. So you approached the bench.
“Um, excuse me, is it okay if I sit here?” You stared at the boy who was significantly more attractive up close than from a distance. He definitely stood out with his broad shoulders and his more than handsome face with beautifully plump pink lips.
“Yeah, go ahead,” the boy nodded, “I’m just waiting for someone.”
“Oh, me too,” you smiled at his adorable choppy bangs before taking a seat at the opposite end of the bench. Who knew such a stunning boy existed at your school?
You checked the time on your phone and saw that you were about five minutes early. Rather than text Seokjin immediately, you decided to wait a bit so he wouldn’t feel rushed.
To kill time, your eyes began to wander. Your campus was known for its breathtaking scenery, but somehow all you wanted to look at was the choppy bangs boy. He was looking down at his phone, texting away. You wondered who he was waiting for. A date maybe? The only thing that snapped you out of your daze was the vibration of your phone.
2:02PM Seokjin “im here~”
2:03PM noob “me too lol”
2:04PM noob “wait where??”
2:05PM noob “i just realized i have no idea what you look like lmao”
2:06PM Seokjin “im sitting on one of the benches”
You noticed Choppy Bangs looking up from his phone and scanning the area.
2:07PM noob “uhh… youre not the guy sitting next to me right lol”
2:08PM noob “the guy with the choppy bangs?”
2:08PM Seokjin “…”
2:09PM noob “oh shit it IS you o.o”
“What do you mean ‘oh shit’??” Choppy Bangs turned to you and made some kind of a squeaky windshield wiper sound with his laugh. “And they’re not choppy bangs!”
“Sorry!” you giggled. “So you’re really Jin?? I didn’t expect you to look like that.” You were still in shock that you were the lucky person the handsome boy had been waiting for.
“Like what?” Seokjin raised an eyebrow at you. “I swear, Jungkook said the same exact thing when he saw me for the first time. Like, am I really that handsome?”
You just nodded, trying not to laugh. Maybe he came off a bit strong, but as a shy person yourself, you actually really envied how he embraced his good looks and spoke so comfortably around you. “Shall we go inside, then?”
The two of you made your way into the library and found an empty table next to the window. Rather than sit across from you, Seokjin took the seat right next to you. But it made sense since he needed to show you how to play the game properly.
“Was that really the first time you played this game?” Seokjin asked with big eyes as he brought out his laptop from his bag.
“Ya, I swear!” You took out Jungkook’s laptop and waited for the game to load. When you were presented with the log-in screen, you realized you made a grave mistake. You had no idea what Jungkook’s password was.
After logging into his own account, Seokjin stared at your confused expression for a second and picked up on your problem. All he did was make his squeaky laughing sounds.
With bright red cheeks, you called your friend and prayed that he would pick up to tell you his password. Otherwise, what was the point of meeting up with Seokjin? You’d feel terrible if you made him come all this way only for you to be locked out of Jungkook’s account.
But of course, Jungkook didn’t pick up. He was probably still fast asleep and wouldn’t wake up for who knows how long. So you sent him a text instead in hopes that he would get the message some time soon.
“He better reply quickly,” you groaned.
“Well, in the meantime,” Seokjin slid his laptop in front of you. “Show me how you killed the fish~”
“What? You still don’t believe me?” you smirked.
“Well considering you can’t even get past the log-in screen, no, I don’t believe you.”
“Okay you have a point hehe,” you smiled as you looked at Seokjin’s character, which also coincidentally had his same choppy bangs. You pressed a few buttons, but rather than magic attacks like Jungkook’s character, you were swinging a sword around. “Hey, this is different from Jungkook’s guy.”
“That’s because I’m a knight and he’s a mage!!” Seokjin shook his head at you. “Didn’t I explain this already?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know what the fuck knights and mages are!” you pouted, shoving the boy next to you.
“That’s because you’re a noob,” he teased, giving you a light shove back.
“At least I could kill the fish thing!” You moved Seokjin’s character back to the giant fish’s cave and waited for it to spawn.
“Hmm, we’ll see.” And with that, the giant fish appeared. You jumped around and swung your sword, but it was a lot more difficult to control a knight. Just when the fish’s health bar was lowered to the red, you fell victim to one of its attacks where it literally threw up water in your face. A tombstone dropped and Seokjin’s character became a ghost.
“Omg look! You died! You’re a ghost~” you giggled, pointing at Seokjin’s floating character.
“Listen, the fish was supposed to die, not me,” the boy chuckled at your innocence.
“Sorry I couldn’t get you the fish bone though…” You made duck lips and tilted your head in Seokjin’s direction.
“That’s alright,” he patted your head. “You’re not bad for a noob.”
“Stop calling me a noob! You’re the noob~” You grabbed his hand off your head and started pulling at his fingers. “What do you need the fish bone for anyway? Can you become rich and famous with it?”
“You just give it to some witch for a quest. It’s a pretty useless item actually,” he shrugged.
“What! I thought it was important!” you whined. “I thought I was really cool for defeating the fish!! You made me feel special!!”
“I mean, you were the first to kill it, so that’s pretty cool, right?” Seokjin swatted at your annoying hands that were still tugging on his so he could properly entwine his fingers with yours.
“I guess…” You were starting to feel a bit foolish for thinking you were some hotshot after killing some fish in a video game, but Seokjin was really making you feel extra special with the way he held your hand so gently. And you didn’t want it to end.
Buzz! You jumped at the sudden vibration in your pocket. Whoever sent that text better have had a really good reason for interrupting your moment.
3:34PM Kookie “my password is ilyjustin”
3:35PM Kookie “wait why do you need my password?”
3:36PM Kookie “wait where the fuck is my laptop?”
3:38PM Y/N “i have it lmao”
3:39PM Kookie “???”
3:39PM Kookie “dont break my baby”
3:40PM Kookie “oh god its too early in the morning for this shit”
3:41PM Kookie “good night”
You put your phone away, a little upset that Jungkook had ended up responding so quickly. Things had been going surprisingly well without Seokjin even teaching you how to play the game. You just felt good around the boy.
“I guess I can log into Jungkook’s account now…” You flipped the laptop screen up and began inputting the password, but Seokjin was quick to put a halt to your typing.
“Maybe we should take a break?” He got up and stretched before extending a hand out to you. “We can always play online later, right?”
You nodded and took his hand into your own before you had the chance to chicken out. “So where are we going?”
“Have any suggestions?” He swung your hand back and forth. You had to take a moment to think, but there actually was a place you had been dying to visit. And the only reason why you hadn’t gone there yet was because you had no one to go with. But now you did.
“The aquarium!” Your eyes sparkled. “I wanna see big fish!”
“Like the one you slaughtered and then got slaughtered by?” The windshield wiper laugh came out again. It was a sound you were growing really fond of.
“Yeah~ Can we go?” You looked up to Seokjin, who smiled back at you.
“Sure~”
-
“Oooh! Jin, look!!” You repeatedly tapped the boy’s shoulder until he turned to the flat, gliding creature you were pointing at in the tank. “It’s cute, right?”
“You think stingrays are cute?” he asked. “You have really weird taste, ya know that?”
“I like most fish, okay?” you pouted and crossed your arms like a child. “All of them excep-” You cut yourself off and took a step away from the tank when you saw a giant grey and white fish with rows and rows of dangerously sharp teeth staring right at you. “Except that.” You hid behind Seokjin and peeked out from his broad shoulders.
“Aww I thought you wanted to see big fish?” he teased.
“But not a shark!!” You clung to the back of his flannel, shaking as you kept an eye on the great white.
Suddenly, Seokjin’s large hand wrapped around yours as your heartbeat slowed and returned to its normal pace. It wasn’t hard to feel safe in his hands. “Let’s go look for other big fish, yeah?”
“Okay…” You were still pouty, but you really enjoyed holding his hand. It just felt so natural and right. And you appreciated how much Seokjin was trying to make sure you were comfortable.
The next room you walked into was darker than the rest. You stayed as close as you could to Seokjin in case any shark wanted to jump out at you, even though you were well aware that that was physically impossible.
Your eyes grew big and your mouth formed a big O when you looked at the glowing tank in the center of the room.
“You like jellyfish too?” The boy chuckled at the curiosity in your eyes.
You only nodded. The way the jellies flowed and glowed so effortlessly in the water felt unreal. Almost as unreal as the fact that you were genuinely falling for a boy you had just met online. And you needed a moment to let all your feelings sink in.
“Hey, Jin?”
“Yeah?”
“What did you think of me when I first talked to you online?”
“I thought you were a noob. And it turns out, you really are one.” He leaned his head on your shoulder. You elbowed his stomach. “But I also thought you were pretty cute and innocent. Turns out I was right about that too.”
“Really?” You looked up to the boy with your puppy eyes. “Because to be honest, I didn’t expect you to be cute at all~”
“What!”
“But I’ll admit I was wrong~” you giggled. “You’re super handsome and nice, and I really liked spending time with you, and-”
Seokjin cut you off with a warm embrace. Your whole body felt the heat radiating from the boy’s chest. He’d make an excellent snuggle buddy, your pure and innocent mind noted. “Today was fun,” he spoke into your ear.
“It was!” You gave the boy a huge smile as your eyes wandered right onto his plush pink lips. There was only one more thing that could make the day any better. “Can I kiss you~?”
The next moment, you felt his lips pressed up against yours. You had thought nothing would feel better than holding his hand, but the sensation of your lips locking with his was more than enough to solidify everything. You had found the one.
Just earlier that morning, you were swiping left on some dating app, doubtful that meeting someone online would ever result in a relationship or love. Four hours ago, you were fighting some stupid fish. Three hours ago, you were insulted by some boy calling you a noob. Two hours ago, you met that same boy in person. An hour ago, you accidentally turned his character into a ghost. And just now, you kissed him as if a spark had gone off somewhere in your heart. It was never that meeting someone face-to-face was difficult, or that online dating was a hoax. It was just that you hadn’t found the right boy until that very moment.
You just had one hope as your lips parted with his. When you left the aquarium, when you went back to playing that silly online game, or when you decided to quit the game because it was kind of boring, you only hoped your relationship with Seokjin would continue to bloom, both online and off.
“Hey! We never found the big fish!!” you cried, walking out of the darkness of the aquarium and into the brightness of the setting sun.
“Oh shit you’re right…” Seokjin stroked his imaginary beard. “Okay, here’s a question to make you feel better.”
You tilted your head with a confused look.
“Are we… o-fish-ally dating?” You weren’t sure if you were laughing because the joke was so terrible, because the windshield wiper laugh came out once more, or simply because you were with the boy you loved.
“I suppose we are,” you giggled, wrapping your arms tightly around Seokjin as he planted a kiss on your forehead. “And by the way, I was kind of waiting for you to drop a dad joke all day.”
“Sorry to keep you waiting!”
“It’s okay, let’s just go and fight the other big fish together~” You gave him one last peck on the cheek before heading home, hand in hand.
A/N: Shoutout to any og maplers who caught my pianus reference LMAO~
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sorenteenwrites · 5 years
Text
Just a thing
SSO OC Asks 
1. What is their home stable in-game? Why?
Mistfall, story wise it’s because the baroness (my character works for her) wanted to start up a vineyard in mistfall and sent my character to manage the day to day operations, but mostly it’s just because I like mistfall.
2. Where do they actually live in Jorvik?
They bought a farmhouse in mistfall after selling their place in silverglade
3. Who is their favorite NPC? (Obvs they wouldn’t be for our characters, but you know)
There are several, Rania, Avalon, Evergray, Ydris, the list goes on.
4. Who is their Soul Steed? What breed are they? Do they have any markings or look different in some way from the in-game appearance you could give them?
For now it’s the black Clydesdale, until they do Percherons. If they ever get around to Percherons its a Black mare with a small white blaze (My irl soulhorse) Mockingbird.
5. What is their favorite location? (Ex, Hollow Woods, Greendale, Silverglade Manor Library) Why?
Wooded areas in general, so mistfall and valedale mostly
6. Who’s their favorite horse? Why?
Assuming you mean npc horse it’s Meteor.
7. What are their powers? Are they stronger with one Circle over any of the others?
She’s not stronger in any circles, but her favorite is lightning. She gets, essentially, less powerful versions of the four soulriders powers. She heals faster and medicines she makes heal better but she can’t just heal with her hands, she gets premonitions rather then full visions, she can open portals in the right places and at the right times but it’s spotty at best, and finally she can electrify items if she’s holding them but she can’t shoot lightning from her hands.
8. What’s their usual style? Any favorite tack sets or color themes for them?
Western and dark brown/black for color
9. Thoughts about Jorvik City? How do they feel about Rania’s petition for a horse-friendly Jorvik City?
It’s big and noisy and crowded, she’s got anxiety so she hates going there. She thinks it may not be the best idea, considering all the cars and loud noises.
10. Thoughts about Justin? (I’m sorry, I’m curious, he shows up so much)
She likes him well enough, she feels bad about the part she played in his disappearance and turn to darkness. All she wants is to make it better but she doesn’t know how.
11. How do they feel about the magical horse race at the circus? Did they enjoy being a horse?
She likes it, but she’d rather be turned into a Hawk or a Lion
12. Do they trust the Druids? Or how do they feel about them?
She trusts specific druids, but not the organisation as a whole. She also thinks they take to long to decide things and that they are too cautious. Caution won’t win a war against the brazen.
13. Least favorite NPC?
Not including bad guys, uhh the bobcat girls probably?
14. How do they make their money?
She works for the Baroness makes wine, grows grapes. She gets a monthly paycheck for her work managing the Mistfall winery. She’s also looking to buy half the mistfall winery and become co-owner, since the Baroness doesn’t get down to the mistfall winery much it would work out much better that way.
15. How many horses do they own?
Quite a few, I’m not going to count.
16. How many pets do they have? What kind? What are their names?
None if you don’t include the horses.
17. How do they feel about the Soul Riders? Do they trust them? Feel like an outsider? Are they closer to some over the others?
She trusts the Souls Riders, loves them really. She’s finally starting to feel like she’s one of them. She’s pretty close with all of them considering she saved two of them, and has known Alex for a while now.
18. Do they believe something mystical, magical, or otherwise strange really exists in Dino Valley? How did they feel about the leaving of the Kallter and the roar/scream/screech in the Valley?
Yes, but she’s not sure what. That freeze ain’t natural. She’s really worried about the Kallter just leaving like that, but she’s got other stuff on her plate at the moment.
19. Thoughts about Jorvik Wild Horses?
She thinks they’re really cool, she feels like they and her are similar. Not of this world but not of Pandora either, caught in-between.
20. Do you think they are a Wild Whisperer? Or are they just bonded with their Soul Steed?
Wild Whisperer of course, since she’s good with the wild things, especially if those things have a learned distrust of humans.
21. What’s their favorite Jorvegian holiday or celebration?
The more Pagan/Nordic themed ones.
22. What do they think or feel about Pandoria? Have they or do they visit outside of the quests (using the rifts)? If they have or still do, why?
It’s neat cause it’s like somehow the opposite of earth. Like being in the ocean but with air instead of water. She doesn’t visit unless she has too cause it wouldn’t make sense story wise, but she’d love to visit more. She’s real curious about what the ocean life would be like. Maybe there would be trees and ferns and flowers in it, since the coral and sea animals are above the water.
23. How has their visit(s) to Pandoria affected them? Do they have scars? Has it affected any of their life views?
At first it doesn’t appear like they have, but she’s started to notice a slight glow coming from her old scars.
24. Would they ever consider working for Dark Core or believing their side?
No. Even if Dark Core was somehow trying to do something good she still hates what they’ve done to the earth and innocent people.
25. What or who is Garnok to them? A dark presence? A squid-like monster? A child with a ridiculously complicated jumping course (fuckin @’s Lizzy)?
Something unknowable. She wonders if it really cares about dark core, or if dark core really even knows what Garnok is themselves.
26. Do they ever go to the Disco? If they don’t, would they ever consider going? What would it take to make them go?
No, too many people, too loud.
27. Disco or Moorland Beach party?
Neither.
28. Are they interested in helping with archaeology or fishing?
Both, she enjoys both greatly because they don’t require too much contact with people. (I hate both because both suck at this very moment, make it fun sso!)
29. How do they feel about Igor, the waiter/manager of the Dino Valley cafe, and whom seemed interested in your horse for… “culinary reasons?”
She doesn’t trust him one bit. And he can stay far away from her horses. He can order her wine though, thats fine.
30. Do they like the perpetual winter of Dino Valley or the perpetual autumn/fall of Goldenhills Valley, or is it strange to them? Do they prefer one over the other, or neither?
She has mixed feelings about it. It’s not natural. But she enjoys visiting both when she feels like being in that season.
💋 how many partners do you have? One for now.
💘 do you feel like you chose to be polyamorous or do you feel like it’s who you are? I think it’s currently who I am, but it’s not like I’ve always known.
❤️ how many metamours (partners’ partners) do you have? None.
💔 what was the worst thing someone has said/done when they found out you were polyamorous? Nothing yet, I’ve only told two people.
💖 what was your best moment with each of your partners? My favorite moments are when we’re curled up on the bed just being silly. Playing games or laughing or talking.
💗 do you prefer to date people who are dating each other or not? Dating each other. I want a big happy poly puppy pile.
💙 what’s your best memory with a metamour? N/a
💚 how did you come to be in a polyamorous relationship/ identify as polyamorous? It started when I was reading L.K. Hamilton's Anita Blake series. It opened my eyes to a lot of stuff when I was younger, it’s how I realized I was Bi and Poly.
💛 what’s your favorite polyam pun? My memory is shit so, don’t got one.
🌻 does your polycule have any inside jokes? Don’t PUSH me and some others.
💜 do you think of polyamory as a sexuality? Kinda, yea.
❦ what was your worst polyam break up? Not had one yet thankfully.
💝 what’s your gender? Female
💞 what’s your sexuality? Bi
💟 do you think being polyam makes you LGBT? Only if the poly group is LGBT+ I guess? 
❣️ who’s the most stylish person in your polycule? No one, yet.
💌 how do your partners tell you they love you? By saying I love you generally but also in lots of small and big ways.
💍 have you ever had or do you ever want a wedding or commitment ceremony? Maybe, I’m on the fence about it really.
💐 what’s something you like about each of your metamours? Still don’t have any.
🌸 are you looking for more partners right now? Yes, I’m looking for a female (I want a girlfriend)
🌹 what’s your ideal number of partners? 4, two guys, two girls so it’s nice and even. But maybe I'd like more then that, idk.
🌺 would you ever want to live with both your partner and your metamour? Yes!
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