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seventhcallisto · 7 months

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Chapter ⅰ. "loved by."

— His Cologne.

An/Cw; innocent forehead and neck kisses. Touching. Some arguing. Briefest mentions of domestic violence and scars(other characters). Lots and lots and LOTS of world building. Read prologue, or you'll be v confused. Idk how to word count on here or know how corporate people talk goodbye. (Also I don't have favorites, i love all my men equally)

Wonwoo had another toss and turn night. He's gotten less and less sleep these past weeks than he's ever had in his entire life. His mind can't stop wondering. He's plagued by nightmares of their missing soulmate. The one who begged as she pulled away. Cried like she was being tortured. It transfers into his dreams. Haunted him when he woke up grasping the sheets. Gasping for air every time. Only to realize she wasn't there next to him.

"Hey." Mingyu side steps wonwoo, having just woken up himself, the house was fairly empty, many of the guys were doing their shoots, filming, and/or out. Because of that, wonwoo and mingyu have the house to themselves. The only sound of birds chirping could be heard through cracks in the windows. Gyu pulls a bowl and a bag of cereal, pouring himself some. He glances at wonwoo, occasionally watching him stir breakfast in a large pan. After pouring some milk, he leans against the kitchen counter. Eyeing wonwoos quiet behavior.

"What's wrong?" Yes. He already knows the answer. He can feel something has been awry with wonwoo since.. well. A while. "Nothing.." he lies with a sigh, looking over his glasses at mingyu. Gyu slurps the cereal off his spoon. "Bullsh1t," he mumbles through a mouthful, wonwoo grimaces. "You've been off for weeks, don't tell cheol I'm saying this, but.. You're not telling us either. Not even i know what's wrong.." mingyu looks up through his lashes, stirring his cereal half hazerdly.

Before wonwoo replies, mingyu is chewing through another bite. Wonwoo sighs. His eyes are cast back down to his wrist. The golden goldfish taunts him. "I met another.. one of us, the fourteenth one." it's so casually said. Gyu chokes on his bite. Coughing and sputtering into the sink. "What? Like.." he points to the spot right under his own ear. There's a mark there, small, barely noticeable. It's uncompleted and messy. Saturn, surrounded by its rings.

Wonwoo nods.

You're gonna get fired, but maybe it's what you deserve. Your boss was somewhat upset you left without saying goodbye. Eunha has always been a kind soul to you. You've spent all your time sucking up to her for weeks. Anything to distract you. You mindlessly play with your ear. Caressing your own soul mark. Everyone is born with their own soul mark. It isn't until later their soulmates' mark comes through. You were born with saturn behind your right earlobe, tiny specks of the galaxy shining behind it, the colors vibrant against your skin tone.

You're taking a walk after work. Already dressed to visit some places you had on your bucket list. Not to toot your own horn, but you're feeling better. There's nothing wrong with pampering yourself every once in a while.

"Thank you," you tell the cashier as she checks you out. Bags upon bags lay on your arms when you step out back into the street. Shops line back to back, you glance at each. Taking your time. Spring is almost in full bloom. You find yourself wanting to go out more to enjoy the things you haven't taken the time to before. Your eyes scan every sign, every decoration you enjoy or find adorable. You slow to a stop in front of a bus stop. You glance at the advertisements and help wanted posters.

'Soul mark removal session - book by appointment,' the paper reads. 'Lee Hyun,' the soul doctor in the paper smiles brightly. You want to look away, to pretend you didn't see it for some reason. Yet you reach out and pull off a piece of paper with a number. Turning it over and then shoving it in your pocket.

Not even the next hour you're calling the number, your fingers tap against your marble counter as you wait for the dial tone on speaker. You're on hold for ten minutes. The price of morals is high on your mind. "Hello, this Jane with Soul Surge. How may I help you today?" Your conversation with the desk lady is quick, yet you're still tapping your fingers in anticipation as you continue booking your appointment. "And you will be billed two days after your first appointment. How would you like to pay? Alright.." her keyboard clicks.

"Alright, I have scheduled an appointment for you with Dr. Lee, would you like a reminder? " Before you know it, you're done talking and hanging up. An appointment next week. You sigh, the burden on your shoulder still feels heavy. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

The next week comes sooner than later. You're lacking with work because you're so distracted. You bite your lip and toss before sleep the day before. You stare at yourself in a mirror. The first time you've worn clothes that show the majority of your soul marks. Your face grows ever redder at what people will think. For such a young girl to have so many marks on her? It feels scandalous. You pull a jacket over. Although the weather reads warmer than it has all week.

You're called into Dr. Lees office. You're sat across his pristine white desk. "What can I do for you today?" He starts off, a kind smile on his aged lips. You sigh "well I have thirteen soul marks. And I would like to get them removed. " You emphase with your hands, eyebrows furrowed. "That certainly is a number, I admit I do not think I've had a customer with that many, but that shouldn't be a problem. May I take a look?"

You show him all the ones you can reach on your own. If he's surprised, you can't tell. He throws away his gloves, sliding back into his chair. "I'm able to remove only a few of your soulmates' marks on you at a time, but if I can remove your own mark fully, then with time, the others should dissappear." You nod. There is a solution, after all. "And, sorry but- I've heard that after the mark is removed, the person who removed them feels..lonely?"

He laughs lightly, "No, no, that is a complete urban legend." You let out the air you're holding. It's too good to be true. And you're right. "But the other people involved, the other soulmate or soulmates will go through major discomfort, uhm, it will go away in less than a year, permanently. If you are to get it removed, you will never be able to make a connection with your soulmate." his tone is somewhat cheerful. Yet the dread in your stomach builds as he goes on.

"Oh," you don't have a response to his words. He notices your face dropping. "But, like I mentioned. the discomfort feeling should go away within a year-long period." He uses his hands to emphase his words. "And these - the discomfort feeling. How does it feel for the soulmates involved exactly?" You press, pulling your bag onto your lap to hug it. Comforting yourself.

"Well. The effect should take place directly after the removal process. They'll feel a slight burning, like an ant bite sensation. Eventually, after a few days, it'll turn into an urge to itch the spot. The spot will swell and redden within a couple of weeks, and soon enough, week by week, pieces of it will be absorbed through the skin. The symptoms may vary depending on the person. Nowadays, there are creams to help with the symptoms and process."

You bid the Dr goodbye.

Before your treck home, you decide to visit some more attraction spots while you're in the city. You're happy you can afford the luxuries, but you've already overgone your budget this month. You watch street performers, and occasionally, you'll grab a treat to take home to eat as you walk. One snack won't hurt. Your hands are in your jacket. Enjoying the afternoon breeze. In the back of your mind, you're thinking about the decision you want to make.

"Oh, excuse me!" A lady not much older than you apologizes as she bumps into you, her stomach is wide with pregnancy, two kids sit in a double stroller, no older than a year. She has her hands full. "Oh no, that's my fault," you wave her off politely, looking at the stairs behind her. "Would you like some help?" You offer, she smiles gratefully. "If it isn't too much to ask.." she laughs lightly. You're holding the end of the stroller as you slowly decend the stairs.

Once you reach the end of the stairs, she's bowing her head, thankfully. "Thanks, uhm.." You tell her your name. "What a lovely name, surely to bring good luck, I'm Kim Jiung," you smile. "Are you a shaman, perhaps?" She smiles back, pushing the stroller forward. You follow with a short pace. Stepping side by side. "My husband is," she continues, "when i was your age, he was the most desired shaman on the block." she laughs as she reminisces. "I met my husband asking for advice." she stops the stroller and lifts her long sleeved floral navy blue dress all the way up to her elbow. Scars litter most of her arm.

On the inner curve of her elbow is a crown placed on a perfectly red pillow, the diamonds in the crown shift as she turns it towards you. "That's when I found my soulmate," she cheerily smiles, pushing the stroller once again. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, yet it's a sweet story. "Because of the law placed for soulmates, i was able to divorce my husband at the time." A sad look crosses her face. "He was a women hitter. And a drunk. It got worse when I told him about my current husband, youngwin. The process took a year to complete." She smiles to herself at the end. "I wouldn't change the hurt for anything," her hand goes to caress her belly.

"Weren't you scared he'd reject you.. because you were married?" You ask suddenly. She's not taken aback in the slightest. "Never," she sighs peacefully. The sun sets to your left, and the sidewalk is void of many people. "He was the most understanding person in the world," she turns to look at you. "My parents never approved of my relationships. They didn't help me when my ex-husband got violent." She smiles sadly. "But my youngwin did," she turns to begin pushing the stroller again.

You stutter to a stop, watching as she takes a few steps ahead. She looks back to see where you are. Then she sits on a bench. She swings the stroller around to look at her babies, wiping her hand against one of their faces softly. "Healing takes a while on your own, but when you have support, it's much easier to get through the days," she coos at the kids softly. You feel sluggish as you walk over and sit next to her, the settling silence nips you.

You watch the children grasp onto their toys and laugh joyously at their mothers' tickles. Her soothing words bring out coos from the twins that make you smile. "How soon are you due?" You ask, turning to face her. She pats her stomach. "Only four and a half more months," she makes a motion, crossing her fingers. You laugh. "A summer baby, thankfully, I can not do any more winter due dates. i already have plenty of winter siblings," she finishes off, pulling out a snack for the twins. You hum quietly.

"I was an only child to three parents, even that was too much for them," you snicker. Leaning back on the bench, you watch the twins messily smack their food around. She turns to look at you.

"Sometimes children can make or break a couple." You know she doesn't mean anything by it. She's just feeding conversation. You're still reminded of that fateful June night. She takes notice of your silence and your distant expression. "I get it,.. it can be hard, but if you're willing to.. you know - talk to each other. That's always the first step to getting better." She smiles reassuringly. Squeezing the hand on your leg. "When my husband and I finalized our soul bond. I was scared of him not liking me - not my past. But me. It was hard for us to communicate." She sighs. Squeezing your hand again. Her eyes fall to your soul marks. Both on your wrists.

"But we got through it because he stayed, and he cared. And I wanted to get better for him, with him." she pats your hand. "Whatever it is, I'm genuinely sure it will work out for you." her gaze is soft and kind like a mother's. You find yourself giving a small smile back.

The week you met jiung your head swirled with unease, she takes some of it away with her advice. She's updated you on her life almost every day. You've become close friends, possibly even best friends in the span of the week. Although older than you she is definitely the more lively and extroverted one in your friendship. You don't mind though, her positivity is a breath of fresh air. Pictures of her twins, Jino and Jina fill your messages. You can't help but adore their chubby faces, their petite pregnant mom holds them up for one photo smiling gleefully, you assume her husband took the photo. 'They're getting bigger than me!' The text after announces.

Your appointment for your soul mark removal is soon. You're not nervous if you don't think about it every second. The man- soulmate you bumped into seemed well off, right? His clothing was designer. His glasses, too. He- and his other soulmates will be able to afford the solution cream.. right? Whenever you think about him too much, your heart flitters. You try to focus on the small things in your life. And not the way he stared at you. The way his name echos in your head every so often. The way your soul mark yearns to be connected with his. What it'll feel like to be connected with the others as well, how they feel, what they're like. Your mind betrays your wishes not to have those thoughts.

In the midst of night, you're cursed with dreams, Tangled into sheets, laughing with him. More than one person is there, every so often the bed sinks in and you can fel yourself pressed against another person. Skin meets skin in soft, innocent touches, just wishing to be close to each other. The sun beats through the sheets, creating an angelic like glow. You can never make out the murmurs and whispers. When he steps out of the blanket, you miss his touch. You feel empty without him. And then, you wake up, usually groaning at your mind for creating such a tantalizing dream. One you can't forget the next day.

Mingyu is no stranger to the looks his members give him. "What do you know?" Seungkwan is the first to ask, jutting his head at the older guy sitting in the makeup chair. He pushes on mingyu's shoulder, biting into an apple slice. "No, it's a secret. I promised Woo," gyu mumbles, crossing his arms. Across the room, wonwoo sleeps in his chair while the makeup artists finish. He's catching up on missed – well deserved – sleep.

"We're tied, remember? I have a right to know. We don't keep secrets," Seungkwan pouts, chewing the rest of his apple slice down. Gyu also pouts, a reactive thing he copies. Seungcheols chin falls on top of mingyu's head, eavesdropping the entire time. An urging look is in his eyes, encouraging mingyu to go on. He almost gives in. "No. I can't, it's something you have to ask wonwoo about." He sighs and turns away from his members.

Seungcheol and seungkwan share a look over mingyu's makeup chair.

The drive back to the house is long, and wonwoo attempts to catch some more zzz's on the drive. The city lights bounce off the glass, it's well past 9 o'clock. Wonwoo gets the farthest window seat in the back. Hoshi and seungcheol are sat next to him. Arms thrown over each other to share warmth, cheol' head falls on hosh's shoulder, the absence of his snores is a tall tell sign he's not really asleep. Hoshi is pressed up against the other window. He's on his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his timeline. Joshua, Dino, and Vernon take the middle seats, each one of them passing their phones around. They laugh quietly. Mingyu sits in the passenger, his eyes relaxed but not yet asleep.

Usually, a drive home like this would make wonwoo feel content. His soulmates being close by is enough to satisfy the need to be curled under a pile of them. He's lost in thought when the van comes to a stop at their building. Everyone begins to shuffle out. Wonwoo and mingyu are the last two to leave the van. Mingyu shoots a look at wonwoo when he steps out, watching his other member rub behind his ear, where the fourteenth soul mark is. Both of them - followed by their manager - walk into the building.

Everyone's already relaxed when they all get settled down. Movie night consists of seats being switched around here and there. Some don't even bother watching. Just lingering around on their phones or laptops, content to just listen in. Everybody needs some soul bonding. Lately, their energy is drained faster, even Jihoon can feel it. He sits on a single armchair, his laptop propped on his lap. His hoodie is rolled up his arm, while the rest of him drapes comfortably in the chair.

Jihoon mindlessly rubs his soul mark, the planet behind his ear. It stings every so often, like it would when he's been away from his soulmates for too long. He sees wonwoo most days doing the same rubbing motion on his ear. No matter how he tries to avoid asking wonwoo what's been going on, he can't help but feel he won't get an answer out of him even if he did. Wonwoo can definitely be secretive and stubborn sometimes. Jihoon glances to wonwoo and mingyu, talking quietly in the kitchen just around the corner. Only he can see them stare at each other, a heated discussion beginning to rise.

He tries to listen in, but it's too loud with the movie. The rest of the members are wrapped around each other on the couch, work clothing and blankets string about here and there, and they haven't had much time to clean up recently. Jihoon slips out of the living room quietly, leaving his closed laptop in his spot. Only cheol blinks an eye for a split second, watching jihoon go.

Jihoon quietly walks into the kitchen, which is dim except for the microwave light that pops popcorn every second or so. Wonwoo stands with his head hung low, defeated. Gyu turns to the sounds of shuffling, glancing between jihoon and wonwoo. Jihoon stares back, a questionable look on his face when he glances between the two quiet men.

"We need to talk," wonwoo says, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes only meet halfway with Jihoons.

Your favorite place on earth was your bed, minus the crumbs. You had spent your first paycheck on it, and you don't regret it at all. It's a king size on the floor. You're perfectly content with it. You can lie and say you're always perfectly content. Today is a lie day.

Your face is squished against your sheets, and your phone is propped up on a pillow. Your appointment isn't until 12. You can feel every one of your soul marks pulse every once in a while. A hearty rhythm you've gotten used to, but you're highly opposed to. A pulling urge to get out of bed and wander the streets til you find who you're looking for. You rub your tired eyes. It was a strange night. Series of dreams plaguing your mind when they're still fresh.

You stand on the sidewalk, golden hues paint every corner. Jiung is no longer pregnant, and her kids aren't currently with her. Surely an image of her your dream made up. She talks mindlessly as you walk. Your eyes never stray from her. "You'll know what to do. The timing will be perfect. Everything will fall into place." She repeats every so often. You're in the most expensive outfit you've ever bought, one you used for clubbing when you turned 21, and you never wore again. Every shiney piece of it sparkles like diamonds caught on flash. In the next moment, you lift your head up to photographers and cameras flashing in your face. You go to shield your face, but you're already being pulled away by your shoulder. You blink your eyes, and you're in an airport now. Faceless strangers shove their phones in your face. A hand tugs on your own, pulling you along, another guides your waist. Both help ease the twisted feeling arising. You're crowded between people escorting you. As soon as you begin feeling claustrophobic, you fall into a weightless state. Floating mindlessly before drifting down into a bed. Your bed. Sheets are neatly tucked in, but blankets strew all of the area. As you continue to look, the bed seems to grow. You can hear the distant sound of clattering in your kitchen, yet you can't see anything pass the bed. Quiet talking and whispers, they're purposeful as if they're trying not to wake you.

You're falling back in, head laid on a broad chest. You can hear their heartbeat through their shirt. Strong and steady. Content. Their voice rumbles a melody, humming soft. Behind you is another chest pressed to your back. Their hand is tucked under your neck, soothing strokes to the base of your hair. Warm lips pressed to your forehead. Another pair falls on your soul mark.

When you wake up. You can't determine your own feelings at the reality of it. No one is pressed by your sides stroking your face and head like you wish. No one is pressing soft, delicate kisses to your forehead and neck. No one is humming to you. After you stretch and yawn, you're doing your morning routine. Humming the melody to yourself.

You crack eggs for breakfast. You tune turning more quiet as you focus on what you're doing. By the time you're done cooking it's 10. You don't have the appetite anymore, but you're obligated to eat something before your appointment. You eat what you can and get ready.

You're taking your time now. When you pull your socks on your finger strokes the infinity mark on your ankle, then each of your hands gently touch the shooting star and goldfish on your wrists. When you pull your clothes up past your thighs, you watch the branch get hidden, you watch It meet just over your hips. Fingerprints, the beautiful figure beneath your belly button, and the moon hide away. Then you pull your shirt over your shoulder. You eye the rose, glancing down at the blackhole on your collarbone. You cant see it but you can feel the pulse of the butterfly and the tiger on your back. You reach up to touch the back of your neck. The dragon shifts when you glide your finger over it. All of these intricate marks will be gone. Including your own. Your soulmates will feel the pain of loosing one of their own. You'll never meet them. Never talk to them. Never know the details about them.

What's gotten into you? Since when did you care?

Why do you care?

You're picking up your phone before you know it, you're breathing hard. Why are you breathing so hard? You take a few slow breaths. Your hands grip the phone tightly while you dial Soul Surge.

"I'd like to cancel my appointment."

The news hits the boys like a train. Wonwoo had not just single handedly refused to tell his soulmates about the woman, but mingyu had hid it too. Their other soulmate. "Why didn't you tell us this?" Seungkwan sighs. "Wait." Dokyeom interjected standing from the couch. "So that light was you two?" Dokyeom grabs wonwoos shoulders, shaking him. "I was right there! How does gyu know before I do?" Wonwoos face shows displeasure, many of the boys are about to intervene. Seungcheol pushes dokyeom back gently from wonwoos space. Kyeom can tell cheol is serious when he doesn't bat an eye at his outburst. He takes his seat next to Dino.

"Well," joshua buts in, he tucks a hand under his chin, his arm propped up on the counter. "Maybe she had her reasons to run." he can buy it himself. It's very possible. The room returns to silence. Cheol shifts from his feet, deep in thought. He stops short, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You two did connect, right?" Seungkwan asks before cheol can, and Wonwoo nods. woozi speaks up. "Then that means she and you will find your way to each other"

Letting the universe and soul connect doing its thing takes too long in mingyus opinion. Everyone decided so anyway. Mingyu was oddly the only one to object. At night, he thinks about it. What'd it be like to finally meet her. What kind of personality would she have? What her likes are. Does she like music? Does she know who they are? Is she a carat? His mind fogs at the number of questions. She's been running around his mind ever since wonwoo told him.

He finds himself restlessly trying to convince his members to step up so they can find her quicker. Maybe he's looking for someone to back him up. Mingyu can be personally driven. And maybe this is something he shouldn't be doing. He's out doing his own thing that day. He doesn't have any filming to do. So his hand reaches for his phone, turning his neck to the side and throwing up peace between his fingers. The fourteenth soul mark is on display. His phone audio shutters when he takes the photo.

Only five slides of him. A tight black tee with a low collar, he's perched on a ledge. One in a black tank in the gym, one of him drinking some type of drink. Mingyu. His name is in Hangul, on the side of the flimsy paper cup. His peace photo. Lastly, it is just a picture of the back of his neck. His head is turned. In every photo, the planet is in clear view. The majority of the time, he can't post pictures with the fourteenth soul mark. The company decided against it.

'It'll cause controversy to the public'

This time, he decides to break some company rules. " 🪐 " is the only thing in the caption.

It's the same day jiung drags you into town. "Girls trip!" She laughs so heartily, clinging to your arm at your front door. On her form is a yellow spring dress. And you're in a drop shoulder oversized tee, a pair of loose pants. She takes you to the most popular jewelry store on the strip, waiting in line. "Why are we here?" You ask, she doesn't tell you. "You'll know soon enough!'" She pouts playfully. And maybe she uses her pregnancy to get your spot in the store faster. You don't point it out.

A young lady tightens a metal of your choice to your right ankle, and the accents blend perfectly. Jiung gets a rose gold color on hers, baby blue accents that look perfect against her tan skin, and lastly, a single seashell pendant to match with her own soul mark. "You don't have to get the pendant," she tells you with a smile shuffling on her one foot as they tighten the bracelet to her. She knows you don't particularly take fond of your soul mark.

"No, I'll get the pendant," you smile back to reassure yourself. You watch now as the younger lady fastens the bracelet to your ankle. Zapping it into place. A permanent ankle bracelet is now tied to you. You're not upset at the decision.

"Thanks for coming with me, I didn't think you'd want to get one, though," jiung smiles, her eyes on her own ankle bracelet as she walks in her flip-flops. "Their designs were too pretty to pass up," you say, you both stop in front of another store on the strip. This one has a couple of cut-out boards on the outside. You don't recognize any of them except for j-hope of bts. It's chained down. You stare in surprise.

"People really steal those?" Jiung laughs like what you said is the funniest thing in the world. "I took the d.o one they had out a year ago," she reminisces. You stare in shock, jaw-dropping. "Jiung!" You scold, she pulls you into the store before you have anything else to say. Once you get over the initial shock of the store decorations, you're wandering around. A couple of albums catch your eyes. Your hand scans over the records.

Here and there are a few people. But it isn't crowded. A couple of young girls, no younger than high schoolers, scroll on their phones, taking pictures of the album section, the laugh boisterously. They switch off to take photos of each other with their newly bought albums. You make sure to stay out of their shots. Not far away, you're at the plush section with jiung. She talks to herself about which plush she wants. "Dwaekki or Quokka.." You zone out when the loud girls squeal.

"Oh! Mingyu just posted!" A confused 'huh?' Follows. Okay. Maybe you're curious yourself. You secretly eavesdrop into their quiet conversation, squeezing a plush you got from the shelf, its a wolf with only a shirt on, a content expression on its face. A notification peaks jiungs interest. It's a jingle pop. Her phone is in her right hand while the plush is in her left. She gasps. Your head whips around towards her, glancing over her shoulder at her screen.

There in bold reads; "SEVENTEEN 14TH SOUL MARK REVEALED!" followed by a collage of zoomed in photos of a guy, his hair is short but on the base of his neck is the planet.

Your planet. Your saturn. Glittered with galaxies behind him. When you go to double look, you can feel your neck crick in protest. Jiung calls your name. Shock on her face. She stares at your neck. Gosh. The one day you decide not to wear something that'll cover your neck AND you forgot your jacket. You slap your palm over your neck.

Your name is called again. Jiung has taken the plush from your hand, putting it back on the shelf. "Let's go," She says, so casually glancing behind you. You continue to stare, nothing coming from your throat. You follow her gaze. The two girls' heads shoot back down to one of the phones. "Doesn't it look like hers?" They whisper. Just your luck. "Ji, I-" she grabs your arm and marches to the front of the store, your head is downturned. This can't be real. How could all of this happen? How does-

The girls stop you. "It's you, isn't it!?" Their tone borderlines obsessive fangirls. "No, please move," jiung speaks for you, her arms hold you defensively by your shoulders. You're starting to regain your senses. The girls push your shoulder, acting playful "gosh I didn't know someone so ordinary would be one of their soulmates." The other girl pouts, "She doesn't look good enough for mingyu." her tongue clicks, both of them shove their hands over their arms.

Jiung goes to defend you. "Hey! Why are you two bothering customers?! This is the third time this month!" An older lady yells, she comes over with a book in hand. The girls look shocked, they bow their heads, and Apologize. Sneaking looks at you two that are heated. It's pretty forced. "ajumeoni! We're just talking!" "ajumeoni! Have you restocked the txt albums?" Their voices get high pitched. Shoulders bumping yours and jiung as they pass.

"Let's get you outta here," jiung sighs. She pulls you out the door.

You're in a state of shock.

Jiungs apartment is homely, fit for a family. Boxes pile upon each other. "Sorry it's messy, we're moving soon," she sulks, pushing a box with her foot. She takes a seat on her couch. Patting the spot next to her. You move from the hallway and sit. "Girl talk?" She suggests. "Or we can watch a movie. The twins are with youngwins' mothers. So I have until tomorrow off. " she shifts with her feet under her.

You don't think about it. "Girl talk," you sigh, staring into her dark eyes. When you explain everything. No, really. Everything to her. She takes it upon herself to rub your arm in a soothing gesture. "And.. then I canceled the appointment." You finished. She shifts to get closer to you. "Oh honey" she pats your hand.

"You are such a sad fool," she sighs. You pull your head up, looking at her. "Excuse me?" She stutters. "t-that came out wrong. What I meant was you're not giving it a chance to work out; I mean. I understand not being ready. I do. I don't know what you went through to have done all of that. And there's not a way to change the past. So you'll have to pull yourself out of this mess." She pats your hand again. "I recommend finding a way to talk to your soulmates, talk about it" you nod at her advice.

You exchange a few more sentences, and jiung is right in all cases and scenarios. "Everything will work out"

News spreads quickly in Seoul. You can't go outside much, and when you do, you always feel like someone is about to find out who you are. You usually grab your groceries as fast as you can. Always pulling at your shirt collar.

"Who are these guys again?" You ask on the phone, on your laptop, you're on naver searching up images. Jiungs kids can be heard giggling and fussing in the background. "They're seventeen. They're a 13 member boy group. You've heard of K-pop, right?" You say a simple 'uh-huh' "you know that song. Aju nice? It was pretty popular a few years back." "Nu-uh, nope," she sighs. "I was in America then," you respond casually. "America? Are you American?"

A notification pops up on your open browser. "BIGHIT Entertainment and PLEDIS Entertainment speak up about SEVENTEENS' 14th soul mark." Jiung speaks up for you. "Bighit and pledis are looking for their 14th soulmate," she mumbles through the speaker. "This could be your chance to talk to the company," she speaks your thoughts. You read the site briefly. "I think I'll email them." You nod like she can see it. Throughout the rest of your night, you fill out a detailed email, it takes you hours to come up with the right thing to say.

Everyone has given mingyu a piece of their mind and the silent treatment. But seungcheol? God. He's the quietest of them all. Mingyu is backstage, and many of the members stand around talking and / or getting their makeup retouched. He's not focused on anything particular, though. A frustrated sigh leaves his throat. He excuses himself from the makeup artist and walks over to cheol. Cheol stands tall, talking with jeonghan. His biceps flex against the stage outfit.

"Hyung" mingyu stops just shy of the two members. Jeonghan shoots a look at mingyu. One he knows says he's still upset at him. I mean, the whole reason they're not on strike right now is because this was pre-planned. Immediately, mingyus post was taken down by the company. His account is temporarily taken away. It's been more than a week. And now they're seeing if the public will let it slide under the rug.

Cheol parts from jeonghan who goes the other way. He stands face to face with mingyu. "I'm sorry," mingyu starts. he pauses. "That's it?" Cheol asks, folding his arms. "Mingyu, have you thought about what's going on?" Cheols' frustrated voice makes mingyu drop his head. "Yeah -" "You don't, though, Gyu. our soulmate is out there, and you know what wonwoo said. She ran away from him. It's possible she's not ready to see us. But we dont know unless she comes to us first." cheols voice turns more melancholic at the end.

Mingyus heart hurts, seeing him upset. He wants to reach out and hide away at the same time. "I'm sorry," he repeats himself. "I wasn't thinking," his voice grows quiet, the quietest he's ever been. Cheol can't help it when he reaches out and rubs his thumb on mingyus cheek. "I wanna see her too," he smiles sadly. Mingyu tilts his head into cheols palm. Wrapping his arms around him tightly. Cheol wraps his arm around him back. Ruffling his hair.

A man stands at your doorstep. Cloaked in normal everyday clothes, you would see on any stranger walking the street. "Hello?" He says your full name to your doorbell camera, leaning in too close. "Hello, this is she. Who are you?" You reply from your phone. You're at work at the moment. Your shift ends in less than 20 minutes. "Hello, I'm Song Jaeho with bighit and pledis entertainment. I have a few questions to ask you if that's alright. Do you happen to be home?"

Bighit-pledis ent..? You slap a hand over your mouth. Who told!? It wasn't jiung! Right!? No... she'd never. She respects your boundaries. Oh.. the girls. The two from that store! Oh wait. You sent an email.

Are you even ready for this?

"I.." You look at the time. 15 minutes. Screw it. "I'm not currently home, but I'm just about to get off work. It'll take less than five minutes," the man claps his hands, pulling back from the camera. "Great, I can wait in the lobby then"

"Eunha! I'm off. My parents had a medical emergency and need me to drive them," you clock out, praying no one notices your blatant lie. "Oh yeah, you go on! Tell them I said hello. " she's never met your parents. But is so kind anyway.

By the time you make it to your apartment lobby, you're just under 4 minutes. Mr. Song stands up and greets you. You bow your head back. "Hello," you smile politely. "Song jaeho." He shakes your hand. "I'm assuming you know why I am here," the hybe employee says. Crossing his hands together. "Is this possibly about my.." You point to the back of your ear. "Soul mark? Yes. Actually, it'd be much easier to talk somewhere more privately. Would you mind accompanying me for coffee?" You look around, and he's right. Many people come in and out of the building, and work for a good number of people is over.

The coffee shop is crowded for the afternoon. A good thing in your opinion, maybe you should have thought before following some strange man to a cafe you hardly know. You're lucky he caught you on a half day. You take the only available seats by the exit. The space is fairly far from the next person, so you'll be able to converse openly.

Once you order, jaeho gets down to business. He slides his card between you and folds his arms. "I am specifically the legal advisor for idols who are soulmates with non idols. I work for bighit and their departments. Now, to start off, I would like to first see your soul mark. It's a precaution, so we know you're -" You stop him there. Pushing your hair away and turning your head, you show him your soul mark. He sits up a bit to lean over, eyebrows furrowed. You scrub at it to prove your point. It doesn't flake or move. "It's genuine," you mumble. He sits back. "It seems so," he says skeptically.

"May I?" He points to your wrists. You sigh and lean your wrists out to him. "Go ahead, have at it," he turns and inspects the soul marks on your wrists closely. You watch the top of his thick hair while his glasses hang off the bridge of his flat nose. It's like he's trying to see if you're a real diamond.

"I apologize for the precautions. You can never be too safe." he lays the folder between you. Legal documents laid out perfectly. "What's this?" Song jaeho crosses his hands together, placing them on the table. He points to each sentence as he says them. "I'm assuming you know of the boys' status. They are celebrities, and we, as the company they are signed under, must take the proper precautions to prevent any harm coming to them. It's nothing personal. Strictly business." He smiles. It's not genuine.

"And you want me to sign this?" You stare. "Yes, I will guide you through all of what you'll be signing," he smiles again. Pulling each paper towards him. As he continues to explain. You get the feeling this is just an nda. You read whatever you can on your own, trying to catch any funny business if you can.

"Once I sign these, what will happen?" He pulls away and closes his folder. "Once you sign the paperwork, we'll be in contact shortly. If everything goes well, you should be able to meet all of them. There is no guarantee or specific date set in stone, though." You hum at that. Looking down at the stamped papers in your hands, you flip through each.

All that's stopping you is some paperwork. Yes, it's not as easy as you wish it was. But you can't run away again. And now, probably, is your last chance of meeting them.

"Could I use your pen?"

You're wringing your hands as you sit in a spacious room. It's been atleast two months since you've see song jaeho, you almost thought you had been scammed until he called and scheduled a meet up. You feel foolish when you say that. 'Meet up'. It's like this moment doesn't determine your future. Set in stone. You couldn't even pick what to wear. Should you have gone in your favorite outfit? Something modest? Sophisticated? Sexy? God, you're going crazy.

You place your head down on the arm of the couch. Sighing into it. Your nerves are shocked. You've got to get a hold of yourself. You take a few deep breaths. You smooth out your clothing, making sure it's pristine. You're lifting your head up to scan the room, it's a giant comfortable room, almost like a living room. It seems homely, it must be a place where the boys rest before makeup. You've caught up on the lore of kpop, thanks to jiung, and figured the rest out yourself, possibly through a series of videos.

Truly, you're trying not to run away. But song jaeho already knows where you live, and you need to get meeting them over with. What's your plan? What are you even doing here?

The door opens abruptly. For some reason, you shoot up. Three men step in first. You only recognize Jaeho. You can hear the footsteps echoing down the hallway. It's a wide amount of them.

You feel your heart thump in beat. It rings loudly in your ears. You want to hide. To run from the center of the room. Anything to get every eye off you. Your lips purse. You lick them gently. Suddenly feeling your mouth dry.

The shoes echos as they stop just outside the open door. You can make out some harsh whispering. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Maybe they're just as nervous as you are. The thought makes your lip quirk. "Get in there!" A louder whisper cuts through. Your lip quirks into a smile. What were you getting yourself into?

One by one, models pass through the door. Why are there mod- it's like your heart leaps. You laugh internally. These guys.. these guys are Seventeen.

You can distinguish every one of them. Features you're fond of, already memorized. There's something so familiar about them. You can't put your finger on it.

Your hands squeeze by your side. Glancing from each guy to the four older men in suits. Each of the suited men talk to each other. "Take a seat, please," one of them breaks off from the secretive circle they had formed.

You plop yourself back down onto the couch, almost falling over from the cushioning. You smile to hide your embarrassment. There's only one other couch, and each guy attempts to fit on it. The shortest of them all takes the single armchair, smiling smugly as a much taller one complains about not having room. "I got here first," he says.

Your lips quirk up into a smile, and you bite your laugh down. The taller guy looks to you, a challenged smile on his face. You stare back with a small, a knowing look that definitely says 'yeah i laughed. What're you gonna do about it?'. He takes his place next to you. Plopping his full weight down. You almost fly forward into him. He grins from ear to ear. When you pull away and he scoots to the edge of the couch to give you some space, you find yourself smiling inwardly.

It's no surprise that all of the guys didn't fit on the couch. Two of them noticed this guy taking a seat next to you, yet playfully rush to take the spot on your left. The guy with hamster like features beats the much taller, otter looking one.

He smiles in victory, and you watch the guy pout and walk away. For a split second, your eyes catch each other, you smile, face scrunching. A tiny laugh erupts from you. He grins from ear to ear. He's not so upset he didn't win the spot anymore. He stands behind the adjacent couch with his arms resting on the top of it.

A shoulder bumps yours. It's from the hamster looking guy. He pouts, and you smile, bumping your shoulder back at his. His pout lifts despite him trying not to. His lips curve upwards.

Finally, once everyone is settled down into their spots. Two of the men in suits step forward.

"On behalf of Bighit and Pledis Entertainment, I will be representing seventeen." The other one speaks up. "And I will be representing Ms -" he says your full name.

You sigh, more legal work?

"If this is about more legal signing, I have already signed everything with Mr. Song Jaeho" You gesture to jaeho, who stands off to your left. The men in suits looked puzzled. Jaeho nods. "If that's the case, we can just begin introductions." The fourth guy says, clapping his hands together.

One by one, you learn the names of each guy. You make sure to memorize it perfectly. Some of them are even foreigners, you really wonder how they all met. They seem to have the closest bond, apparently they've known each other for years.

You've got a lot to catch up on.

Soonyoung and Mingyu are the two that sit with you. Soonyoung on your left and Mingyu on your right. The one who took the chair is Jihoon. From left to right, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Joshua, and Vernon take the couch across from you. Sitting on the arms are Seokmin and Wonwoo. leaning against the back of the couch is Seungkwan, Junhui, Minghao, and lastly, Chan. The one who lost the race.

"Tomorrow, we're shooting for a video," seungcheol speaks up over the growing silence. "You could come if you want," he nods. Everyone waits with bated breaths.

"I'd love to," you grin.

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justice4billiam · 3 months

Text

Math Class

So there was this one moment in time in high school where I actually liked a guy (I know, weird concept, just go with it) who sat in front of me in my math class.

Something you should know about me, I fucking suck at math.

Another thing you should know about me, I was kind of a dick in high school.

Okay, I’m still kind of a dick, but a nice one.

However in high school, I was extra dick-ish (I’m sure it had to do with all raging teenage hormones and a shit childhood)

Anyway.

I fucking sucked at math.

And what happens when you suck at math?

Your teacher assigns you a tutor to help “guide you to the path of success” or whatever she said.

Cool.

No big deal, right?

Wrong.

She assigned me to the nearest person to me.

The fucking guy I had a crush on.

Who thought I was the fucking worst.

Now you’re probably thinking nooo, he couldn’t possibly think that way about you. I’m sure it was all in your head

Well, you’re wrong. The guy hated me.

BUT for good reason.

He just so happened to be the brother of the girl I beat up half a week earlier in gym class.

NOW.

I didn't beat her up just because…no. She was an absolute terror to this disabled girl in said gym class.

She would verbally bully her to the point of tears.

But that one particular day she physically shoved her to the ground while we were all running the mile.

Remember how I said I was a dick?

Well, I used my powers for good. (mostly)

I watched that shit happen.

Then came strolling up to her while she was shooting the shit with her friends and shoved that bish so hard.

Her stupid unblended orange face (this was the early 2010s guys, no one wore the right makeup shade or blended their foundation into their damn necks) bounced off the concrete floor.

Let me just tell you…it was satisfying as hell.

It started a full on fight of which resulted in her getting her ass handed to her.

So you see, her brother hated me

And I didn't blame him

A sister is a sister.

You stand by your siblings, I get it.

BUT.

I had a big fat crush on him and now he was to tutor me.

Let me tell you, he was NOT happy about it.

I distinctly remember the look on his face the second the teacher called his name out to work with me.

It was the kind of face you make when you smell roadkill wafting through your car vents because you have outside air circulating while you're going 65mph(that's 96.56kmph) on a back road.

The look fueled the need to make him like me.

Those who know me now, know I'm a cheeky, flirty little shit.

So not to toot my own horn but it's hard NOT to like me.

(Is that my god-complex talking? Probably)

I can get along with just about anyone.

Not so surprisingly after about 30 minutes of flirting my way into his heart, I had him FLUSTERED.

I'm talking man giggling.

Blushed cheeks.

Couldn't even make eye contact with me.

FLUSTERED.

Don't like who?

Not me.

I'm sure you're probably wondering where I'm going with this.

Well, after class ended he invited me over to his house after school.

A normal person probably wouldn't go to the house of the girl you beat up and meet her parents while on her brother's arm.

I did.

I went.

I wish I had taken a picture of her face when I walked into her house. (she had stayed home the rest of that week because I beat her ass)

Honestly, it was a core memory.

The best part was her parents didn't know it was me who did it.

It was such an eventful week for me.

Monday: bully the bully

Tuesday: ice my hand from bullying the bully

Wednesday: suck at math

Thursday: rizz the bully's brother and come home with him to have dinner with bully and her family.

Friday: DATE THE BULLYS BROTHER.

Yep. You heard me.

That dinner went so well that the guy asked me out.

And I said yes.

I then proceeded to date him the whole year and become best friends with her mom.

Oh yeah, and I still failed math.

I'm gonna make this a series 🤭

@voyeurmunson im sure you'd get a giggle out of this. 😅🤭

#welcome to my blog #T journal series #i'm a mess #i like it that way #there's more where that came from #hi #im unhinged #high school #trending #this is my life

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ninetailedfoxmanchi · 2 years

Text

Mafia! Kento Nanami: A business meeting turns into a dinner date

Warnings: none

A/N: I'm not trying to toot my own horn but my god did I enjoy writing this. Like, I was borderline screaming :') Anyways, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it! Let me know

Summary: Y/N is Mr Nanami's employee. She does mostly office work like filling papers, taking care of PR, maybe translating something; small things like that. Her boss asks her to dinner which she thinks is a business meeting although she soon realizes, it's actually a date.

NEW MASTERLIST

* * *

Y/N rushed to the restaurant, fearing she is running late to a meeting with her boss whilst still wearing her sneakers. She was intent on changing her shoes before coming in but she ran for the larger part of the way. Y/N realized the dreadful mistake when she arrived at the lobby of the restaurant and the elegant host approached her. The young woman wore all black and an elegant pair of matching heels. The woman kept her composure whilst Y/N was trying to supress her heavy breathing from running all the way to the restaurant.

To Y/N’s surprise, the host was extremely kind and understanding. She took her coat and handed it to her colleague before showing her to the dining area. Y/N’s boss was already waiting for, as expected, but when she glanced at her wristwatch, it was only two minutes past seven thirty. Still, Mr Nanami did not seem entirely pleased when the host showed Y/N to the table or it might have been just his usual stoic self. Y/N was showed to sit beside Mr Nanami instead across from him which might have been more appropriate.

“I’m really sorry I’m late. Half of the city's roads are closed down,” said Y/N once they have sat down and the waiter brought the menus. Although it was not her fault for being late, she could not help but feel guilty especially with a boss as keen on punctuation as Mr Nanami.

“It’s alright,” he spoke, “I must admit I had some trouble finding a way myself.”

Y/N could only nod in gratitude as she paced her breathing and looked at the menu. The prices nearly gave her a heart attack so she quickly put it away, intent on sticking to a simple drink.

“Why are you breathing that way, Y/N?” asked Mr Nanami, nearly making her flinch as she woke up from her thoughts.

“Huh?” she blurted then suddenly realized how inappropriate her reaction was. Blush rushed to her cheeks as she swallowed and looked down. “I… I ran here. I didn’t have the time to change shoes though. I know it’s inappropriate – be that for a business meeting or this restaurant, I apologize,” said Y/N with as much dignity as she could manage given that this will go down as the worst boss-employee meeting in her history.

Mr Nanami tilted his head ever so slightly, catching a glimpse of her white sneakers. It wasn’t a bad outfit; it just wasn’t appropriate for this kind of restaurant. Y/N tried to hide her legs beneath the table and Mr Nanami doubtlessly noticed her discomfort at the topic.

“It does not matter. This is not a business meeting and I am certain people in this restaurant of far lesser beauty are wearing clothes that fit them far less,” said Mr Nanami and took a sip of his whiskey. However, Y/N’s stomach twisted so hard she nearly lost the few traces of appetite that have not vanished when seeing the prices on the menu.

“This is not a business meeting?” asked Y/N, gaze eyes wide and dumbfounded. Mr Nanami’s small, sharp eyes fixed on her.

“If this were a business meeting, I’d invite you to my office. I asked you to dinner, that’s why we’re in a restaurant,” he explained, completely unmoved whilst Y/N’s heart threatened to jump from her chest. Heat flushed her cheeks and neck and she could not even blink. Her lips were dry and her palms cold.

“If I—” began Y/N but the waiter came to collect their order. He turned to Y/N first but she barely even looked at the menu, thinking only to get a drink and fix herself something at home after the meeting. But since this was no such thing, Y/N found herself compelled to order something.

“What do you recommend?” she improvised and chose one of the specialities the waiter listed. Mr Nanami ordered the same and a bottle of red wine whose name sounded vaguely familiar.

“You wanted to say something,” said Mr Nanami after the waiter had left with their order.

“I wanted to say that if I had known this wasn’t a business meeting, I’d… I’d wear something different,” confessed Y/N, blushing yet again.

“You look exquisite no matter what you wear, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” said Y/N weakly, slightly taken back. Her heart was beating loud in her chest as the waiter brought over the bottle of wine and poured them each a glass before displaying the aged bottle at the edge of the table.

When the waiter left Y/N suddenly did not know what to do with herself. It felt as if the whole restaurant was staring at her and she were sitting in an invisible spotlight. It was far from the truth though. The only person staring at her was her boss, Mr Nanami. His sandy hair was pushed back as always, contrasting nicely with his crisp dark blue shirt. He did not wear his signature tan suit, however. Tonight, he wore black trousers and matching dress shoes. Neither did he wear his gold-rimmed glasses like he always did in his office but Y/N needed to remind herself once again that she was not in a business meeting but at a dinner; a date. Realization hit her once again and she felt her cheeks turn pink. Y/N could not help but notice the corner of Mr Nanami’s lips move and form the most of a smile she had ever seen on this man. He looked so different than usual. There was something about his face, something that seemed to soften the formidable sharpness of his cheeks and jaw and his frown was not quite as gloomy as it always was.

Lost in her observation of Mr Nanami, Y/N had not noticed the study was mutual. He could not take his eyes off her: the softness of her hair, the shape of her eyes, the tone of her skin, the silhouette of her body.

It was only then that Y/N noticed his gaze taking in every inch of her. She took a sip of wine and shifted in her seat.

“Sorry,” she heard Mr Nanami murmur.

“What for?” froze Y/N.

“I was staring,” admitted Mr Nanami, a playful smile hiding in the almost straight line of his lips.

“It’s okay so was I,” spoke Y/N without thinking. The moment the words slipped from her mouth, her eyes widened and she was too stunned to move. Her face turned hot as she blushed yet again and wanted nothing more but the earth to crack open and swallow her. Mr Nanami’s mouth spread into a smile for the first time since Y/N’s met him. Pearly white teeth peeked from behind his peach-coloured lips and his cold brown eyes softened like molten dark chocolate.

Mr Nanami reached across the table and tuck a loose strand of hair behind Y/N’s ear, making goose bumps appear on her bare arms. He caressed her cheek with his thumb before guiding her towards him. He glanced from her lips to her eyes and back to her lips. Y/N’s heart was beating so harsh against her chest, she feared it might jump out. Her hands were trembling in her lap but her tummy was alive with soft butterflies. Nanami leaned in further, his lips brushing against hers, tasting the wine on her mouth. His lips parted and pulled her into a kiss. He guided her with his hand, his fingers tangling in the hair on the back of her head. The scent of Nanami’s perfume and his skin made Y/N light-headed. A small shaky breath escaped her lungs when he pulled away but for a moment. He opened his eyes, finding hers still closed. Nanami smiled to himself and kissed her yet again, the softness of her lips sending shivers down his spine.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami fluff #nanami fanfic #fanfiction #anime #anime fanfic #nanami x y/n #nanami x reader #mafia #mafia boss

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delphiniumblooms · 2 years

Text

eternals ramblings from my rewatch today:

EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. ikaris makes an entrance he is accompanied by a huge swell of music, often the eternals theme, to the point where it almost feels like his theme. something to be said here about how he believes himself to be more Eternal than the rest

our first sight of sprite in modern era being her clearly trying to hook up with a guy but the moment he touches her the illusion breaks and she has to go - i cannot believe the pain of living for MILLENNIA in a child’s body she never got to do human things like romance or puberty or whatever

when they first go to earth sersi looks to ajak AND THEN IKARIS for reassurance/permission before going to make contact with the human kid

watching sprite’s London convo with sersi knowing that she’s in love w ikaris and jealous of sersi hits different. she told sersi to move in with dane. it could be sweet, it could be a ploy to push sersi and ikaris further apart, it could be both bc family relationships are difficult like that and sprite clearly loves sersi even though she’s ‘always envied’ her

sersi TURNED THE GROUND INTO QUICKSAND to fight a deviant this is a big deal to me because i wrote a ton of speculation fic based on the trailers before the movie came out and i had her do exactly the same thing in a fight scene - not to toot my own horn but im impressed at how much i managed to extrapolate correctly just from the teasers

i CAN ACTUALLY TELL WHAT MAKKARI IS SAYING OH MY GOD I COULDN’T TELL THE FIRST TIME BECAUSE I WAS WATCHING A SHITTY PIRATED VERSION THAT DIDN’T SUBTITLE HER SIGNING

makkari’s last line is ‘the truth will set them free’. this is a bible verse. i don’t know if it’s intentional but they’re quoting jesus

sersi is such a jesus character to me. treats sprite and ikaris with love even though they hurt her massively

sprite is one of the most storytellers actually (gilgamesh did all these epic things. one day you and your people will sail around the world and make your own legends!)

how does ikaris know how to woo. did he watch the humans and learn from them?

related: i think it’s super cute how he just. makes his regard for sersi clear by following her around everywhere like a puppy

thenamesh are just clintasha 2.0 (though to be fair it is fanon clintasha. but the him trying to stop her from attacking everyone and loving and protecting her even though she’s clearly unstable? screams clintasha)

i was so touched by sprite helping thena break out of the flashback by showing her illusions of her past like it works SO well

they should all have just stayed together. kingo was right. they should all have stayed together. they hurt each other but they also know how to help each other

touched by kingo’s loyalty to ikaris. man respected and loved his leader so much

also ‘i like watching him too’??? kingo darling sprite’s not the only one in love w ikaris

why is everyone in love with ikaris really if he betrayed them in the end

‘are you going to charm me or threaten me’? that’s probably why. he’s a leader. he’s the strongest one. he knows how to be charismatic and how to be firm, keep the peace, et cetera. half of them love him and the other half are wary of, even maybe jealous of him

it’s really interesting to me how druig listens to and respects sersi even though he hates ikaris’ guts. he obviously doesn’t see them as a unit.

in fact everyone’s feelings towards each other are really intriguing i should chart a family tree but instead of ‘birthed’ and ‘married’ lines its ‘loves’ ‘hates’ ‘envies’ etc

the way sersi whisper shouts at ikaris and tries to pull him away they were both staring at jack and phastos but she knows it’s rude he doesn’t he’s just staring openly until she reminds him

the way he SNATCHES THE BOOK FROM HER

phastos’ husband speaking arabic to him. karun speaking in hindi to the eternals. whenever anyone speaks in babylonian. i love the usage of foreign languages in english media and eternals does it so much and so well

the way makkari smiles at everyone and signs ‘ready to go home?’ when they come back to the domo hit me like a TON of BRICKS. she was the last one to find out. goddamn. i can’t imagine the existential crises they were all collectively going through no WONDER tempers were high no WONDER they fought

related: i’m sure they said a lot of things they didn’t mean especially phastos. ‘i’ve always wanted to clip your wings, ikaris’ doesn’t mean he actively hated ikaris the entire time. it’s just like you know when you find out someone did something shitty and your reflex response is to go ‘i ALWAYS KNEW YOU WERE THAT KIND OF PERSON! YOU HAVE ALWAYS BEEN THIS KIND OF PERSON!’ because memory bias you remember the shitty things more than the good things. same with ‘you did always underestimate [sersi]’. did ikaris really?? or did he live and fight with and watch and love her for five thousand years and conclude, like the rest of the others, like sersi herself, that sersi’s powers only go so far? her powers didn’t begin changing until she was selected as prime eternal. if ikaris underestimated sersi so did everyone including sersi herself.

my take on why ikaris did what he did - he wanted to believe that his previous actions were justified/had a purpose. he lied to everyone, he left his wife, he told no one the truth for years because ajak had him convinced that his life’s purpose was to serve the mission. and then ajak calls off the mission at the last moment. he didn’t want to believe that he had hurt other people, had hurt himself, for no reason. he couldn’t accept that his suffering was for nothing. he had to go through with the emergence because otherwise none of it mattered. and he couldn’t deal with that. ikaris i can tell isn’t good at dealing with the fact that he makes mistakes. he told sersi he was sorry and then flew headfirst into the sun. he smacks of eldest child syndrome AND gifted kid depression.

ok for real this is the last bullet point. the writing was questionable. the editing was bad. the characters weren’t given enough establishing time - it was a bad idea to do such a huge story in movie format (it should have been a tv show). that said the actors put their whole actussy into this and you can tell chloe zhao tried her utmost best. it’s not a great movie but i still love it because i love this huge unconventional, complex family

#eternals #eternals 2021 #eternal spoilers #ikaris #sersi #thena #druig #ajak #sprite #makkari #gilgamesh #kingo #phastos

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elmelloill · 1 year

Text

i put this on twitter but what if i put it here too! my favorite lines (more like...sections) from the fics I wrote in 2022 :)

(with slightly more commentary than on twitter, perhaps) (edit: a lot more commentary than on twitter)

I included my aa4 zine piece on twitter but I don't think I will here, since I didn't actually write it this year and just happened to post it on ao3 in January after the zine released. So the rest of these are all Waver fics, because in 2022 I finally unlocked the ability to write about him.

i'm the one you can't ignore [rated M, excerpt is some implied nsfw]

So first, I'm so pleased with the concept of this fic. I didn't really take the idea seriously at first but the more I thought about it the more I realized that it's really the premise with the best of both worlds when it comes to the question of whether Iskandar remembers Waver in Chaldea or not. All of Waver's heartbreak and inner conflict AND the actual reunion all in one fic! One of the comments called it a "delicious little misunderstanding" and I love that. I know this is very much tooting my own horn but it's also my most popular fic of them by a Lot so it feels a teeny bit justified. And my goal this year was to write the things i really wanted to read so! I love everything I wrote this year a lot!

Anyway. Excerpt.

He had thought that, in this situation, it wouldn’t make a difference if Iskandar remembered him or not. It was purely physical self-indulgence, after all—what did it matter if Iskandar only thought of him as some attractive stranger to share his bed for a night?

But something in Iskandar’s touch was different now—they had never done this before, not remotely, but it was as though Iskandar had figured him out nonetheless, like he knew even better than Waver did what would make him unravel.

Actually half my reasons for this section being my favorite is because when I thought of it I felt like I unlocked the path to the end of the fic. It was simultaneously like "yes! this is it! this is the whole point!" while also giving me something to talk about through my sex scene that wasn't like, the actual sex, so i was able to get through it without my usual ordeal. But it's also my favorite because I'm just a sucker for the concept of Iskandar seeing straight through Waver, in any context. Being around Iskandar means being subjected to the mortifying ordeal of being known, for Waver, or at least I like to see it that way.

His Rightful Place [rated G]

But despite everything, when he raises his head to meet Iskandar’s gaze, an unassailable sense of reassurance overtakes him, and even though his heart is still pounding hard enough to echo in his ears, he feels as though something has slotted into place in his chest.

Waver Velvet, second-rate mage and stand-in Lord of the Clock Tower, should not be here in this alien place, trying to save the world, but at the same time, looking into his King’s eyes, he knows that he is exactly where he is meant to be.

I actually don't have much more commentary than the title itself. His rightful place! (Shameless use of the CE name because it makes me emotional and I'll never actually have it unless they rerun accel zero order just for me.) This one was fun though, and also sort of started from an idea I didn't take seriously right away. I definitely watched the entire Solomon movie hoping Waver would show up, but if my disappointment led to me writing something about it, then maybe that's fine.

Warmth [rated T, maybe it should be M?? i really couldn't decide.]

I really really wanted to write a kiss and (mostly) just a kiss. Making out is so often just a prelude to smut (in doujins especially. maybe I was flipping through too many doujins at this time lol) so I just really wanted to focus in on the kiss and that's probably why it kind of got out of hand. That and Waver's just so fun to write when he's a repressed gay 19-year-old.

All that said, my favorite part is just about Waver being Seen, again:

Waver hadn’t meant to look at him, but now he couldn’t look away. According to legend, Alexander’s eyes should have been different colors, one dark and one light, but it was hard for Waver to imagine anything more striking than the dark burning crimson that he was so used to. Had anyone ever looked at him the way Rider did? It was frustrating sometimes, how he seemed to see through Waver so easily, but that meant he was actually looking, when so many other people just dismissed Waver at a glance.

Waver couldn’t feign indifference to that gaze. Everything he wanted was laid excruciatingly bare, from his petty ambitions and his desperation for recognition, to the desire he had told himself had no place in the heart of a mage—Waver could hardly stand it, but at the same time…Rider was still looking, wasn’t he? Not with disgust, not with scorn…despite their disastrous first encounter, Alexander the Great was still looking at Waver Velvet with undeniable interest, as though he saw something of value where nobody else had, value that even Waver sometimes doubted was there.

And because I can't get enough of this whole concept, I wrote about it from Iskandar's perspective, next.

Bloom [rated G]

I loved writing this one. Giving myself an excuse to write about Waver's character development in Zero by making it into a fic! Iskandar POV was really fun and I hope to use it a little more in the future. While it isn't the excerpt I chose as my favorite, I really liked thinking about him getting excited about talking to Waver about the Iliad. I love when Fate points out (accurately) that he's basically a huge fanboy when it comes to Homer.

But I basically centered the fic around this metaphor so, it should be the chosen excerpt:

He’s changed.

He had the feeling of watching a desert flower burst into bloom after the briefest deluge. It was always a delight to witness the prickliest, most forbidding plants unfurl the sweetest blossoms after a rare rain, and Iskandar felt the same satisfaction now. His first impressions had not been wrong—Waver was weak and cowardly, overconcerned with frivolous matters, impatient, self-centered—but the spines and the flowers were of the same plant, after all, and it was just a matter of the proper conditions to bring out one or the other.

While this fic was largely just inspired by the thought of Waver wrapped up in Iskandar's mantle (shout out to the 4th hgw for taking place in February) I think I was also influenced by the scene right before Iskandar fights Saber (which I happened to be rewatching) because I hadn't noticed before how Waver stands next to him and just sort of...holds on to the mantle while he thinks about Iskandar's history and ideals. Prior to the scene on the bridge, it really felt like a point where Waver's attitude towards Iskandar is shown in it's final form, more or less, so I sort of wanted to place this fic directly before that scene and show Iskandar's feelings reaching that point, too.

Okay that's it! I had a lot of fun writing this year even if I didn't write a lot. My goal was just to create the things that I really wanted to see and I think I accomplished it, even if I still have things I'm working on that I haven't finished yet. If you read and enjoyed any of my fics this year, thank you!!!

#very sorry if this shows up in tags but hopefully the read more works #i'm only able to talk abt my thoughts on my favs in fanfic form and i was really happy to be able to do that w waver this year <3 #i don't know if i really made much progress with writing this year but i AM happy with what i created in the end #levblogging

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never-not-ever · 1 year

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The other day I was talking to a patient about their self harm urges and they said something along the lines of “there’s always urges and if I really want to do it I won’t tell you first cause then I’ll be stopped” and it terrified me because I completely understand their “logic” of thinking. I used to always think “if I truly wanted to hurt myself I wouldn’t tell anyone cause then I’ll be stopped so clearly telling someone is just looking for attention”. And like it’s taken a lot of years to try to understand what hurting myself was expressing to staff. Like in some instances I just wanted to hurt myself cause I deserved it and cause I could. Plain and simple. Other times it was for some acknowledgment that this is how much pain I’m in, can’t you see I’m hurting.

It scares me that I understand this patient because I know that no matter what I say or do at the end of the day if they want to hurt themselves they’re going to do it. Luckily they’re on a 1:1 and for the first half of my double today I’m their sitter (they’re sleeping right now). But even on a 1:1 they manage to hurt themselves until they get restrained. And I’ve tried to talk to them, like the other day, but I don’t want to push them and also don’t want to teeter into that therapist role and go out of my scope of practice.

This patient is tricky and at one point a couple moths ago I felt myself caring too much. I’m a full time counselor and any 1:1 shifts with them would are extra shifts. Now I don’t pick up anymore and only do them if my supervisor asks if I want to swap a counselor shift for them (like this morning). Right now they’re dealing with the loss of one of their favorite sitters who was scheduled with them way too much and the boundaries were horrible. I actually sent an email to my supervisor to talk to him about 1:1 boundaries with a specific sitter and before we could talk in person they ended up giving their notice. So bad boundaries = this patient dealing with a horrible loss of a “friend” because at the end of the day that’s basically what it was and I hate that we all picked up on it too late.

Anyways to end a long random rant, I’m trying to keep my own boundaries and not care too much and invest too much into this patient and become their new favorite. I’m not trying to toot my own horn but I know I’m one of their favorites and everyone says they like me when they don’t like a lot of people. It’s hard because the self harm, self hatred and suicidality (to an extent, their SI is worse than mine ever was) is stuff I can relate to more than I ever have with other patients with the same stuff. I get them,m and I understand them when a lot of staff are getting burnt out with them and don’t understand why they do certain things. I get it… but I need to accept that I am most likely, 99.99% am not going to be the one to save them and turn around everything. For now I can just be a counselor and their sitter, keep my boundaries and offer check in’s just like I would any other patient…

Ugh thank god I’m mostly off the next 4 days (picked up Sunday morning for a coworker)…. I need a much needed break.

#personal

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rachelianello · 8 months

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Officially six months seizure free!...Again. I won't ever drive again. I just don't want something to happen while I am driving and harm anyone that is on the road near me. I don't like driving anyways. I also have neuropathy. Pins and needles in my legs and feet times a million at first. I couldn't walk the pain was so bad. I couldn't even stand. Three weeks later after being in the hospital for a week a fucking MRI with some drug that calmed me down I was diagnosed with neuropathy which I already said. I was transferred to a in patient physical rehab facility for two weeks. The rain was still so bad and standing hurt. I couldn't even shower myself. Those two weeks with those therapist meant more that anything to more. Yes did I have to use a walker and a wheelchair after I got out? Absolutely. It has been a year not and I don't need to use my walker and I use my wheelchair to walk/jog around my neighborhood with my little puppy dog Otto. I went so long without being able to do anything like that. I just use my wheelchair for balance. I am not trying to walk around my neighborhood and fall down and scrape my knees. I mean, lets be real, I am not a ripe banana anymore just one with a lot of brown spots but more yellow. ALSO, IF I EVER HEAR ANYONE TELL ME THAT THEIR LEG FELL ASLEEP OR THEIR ARM AND THEY FEEL PINS AND NEEDLES AND IT HURTS. WHAT A JOKE. MY FEET WILL FEEL THAT WAY FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE AND I AM USED TO IT. MY MEDICATION HELPS BUT IT DOESN'T MAKE IT GO AWAY. My bad but don't be a little bitch, bro. Anyways....THANKYOU MOTHERFUCKING MISSOURI FOR LEGALIZING MARIJUANA.

I was very close to getting my medicinal card but my dealer always hooked me up. They still do but there is nothing better than walking as slow as I can into a dispensary and picking out what I want. My primary care Doc and all my other specialist ask if I smoke and I tell them, "Just Mary Jane." They look at me and say, "Well, its not illegal so I can't tell you not to and your oxygen/breathing is great. I am glad to helps." My gynecologist, neourologist, seizure doc and all the other docs I see say the same.

Still take my meds. Honestly, The first time had a seizure was the scariest. Not because I was in pain but I was at work and fell down and hit my head so hard. I can't believe I didn't break my glasses. Luckily I had so many employees around me to help. Not trying to toot my own horn but I was a pretty badass Kitchen Manager. I thought anyways. I tried my best. I was carried out for my first ride on the ambulance and the only thing I can remember was my General Manager asking me to call my best friend Kamryn and I said yes. My General Manager never stopped taking food orders. More than half the staff walked out that night. Saturday, February 19th 2021 9PM...Buffalo Wild Wings. My best friend was at the hospital before I even was even though I was rushed on the ambulance. I had covid to haha. If I knew that I would have never went to work but I needed to be at work for that seizure to happen. What would I have done if I was at home where I lived alone and that happened to me?

That was long. I don't care care if anyone reads this but PLEASE STOP MAKING FUN OF PEOPLE THAT HAVE SEIZURES OR ANY OTHER MEDICAL CONDITIONS. IT'S NOT FUNNY. IT DOESN'T ONLY MAKE SOMEONE FEEL BAD ABOUT THEMSELVES..ESPECIALLY SOMETHING THEY CAN'T CONTROL BUT IT IS SO SCARY FOR ANYONE AROUNT THEM TO WITNESS IT.

I PROMISE, NO ONE IS LAUGHING ABOUT YOUR IGNORANCE. IF YOU REALLY WANT TO KNOW HOW IT FEELS BEING IN THE HOSPITAL..GETTING POKED BY MULTIPLE NEEDLES, (EVERY HOUR..ESPECIALLY RIGHT WHEN YOU FALL ASLEEP AND INSTANTLY WAKE UP AGAIN) HAVING SOMEONE WATCH YOU SHIT, WEARING A DIAPER AND PEEING YOUR PANTS, NOT ALLOWED ANY FRIENDS/FAMILY TO SEE YOU, NOT BEING ABLE TO SHOWER FOR A WEEK, LET ME KNOW. IF YOU WANT TO TAKE MEDICATION FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFT THATS PRETTY FUCKING AWESOME. IF ONE DAY YOU DON'T TAKE IT YOU WILL IMMEDIATELY HOPE THAT WHO WONT HAVE A SEIZURE THAT DAY. I have dreams of anyone that I am helping someone having a seizure.

Moral of this post. Please, be a kind human. You never know what someone is going though.

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sleepingintheflowers · 9 months

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I am going to shut up about meeting this man one day but it is not today.

Heartwarming but overly detailed story from today behind the cut.

I mentioned that Danny told me that my children were set up for genetic excellence and how that was a big ego boost. But I left out the context because I just didn't want to get into it.

He was referring specifically to how they're a mixed hodge podge of things and since he is a half Indian half Polish man he was as much tooting his own horn as he was being cordial towards me.

It was very much something I needed to hear though. Growing up half Jewish was rough. No one ever knows what to make of you. I KNOW he relates because he made a whole ass movie about this same feeling.

I'm down at the in-laws this weekend. They're always big helps with the kids and we get to sleep in here and it's glorious. I come down this morning and my FIL shows me this LED spinning top he got for Leah and gave her earlier this morning. He says "she saw this and said OH!! A DREIDEL!!" and usually I would just give a sheepish "oh yeah well I'm jewish." and drop it. But idk I felt the pride in the full story thanks to this silly little zoom call and I was telling my FIL about my upbringing about how we always got dreidels in our Christmas stockings and he was very amused and even said "that's wonderful. if only the whole wold was that accepting."

Like..... jfc Danny.... are you magic? Really a true positive force in the world.

#natalie's exciting life

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criticinlove · 1 year

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2022 Favorites

I want to write about favorite things because I am such a negative nellie but when stop for a second I remember I am such a lucky duck and am constantly obsessed with so many things around me.

my belly: like everyone, I think, I am ~on a journey~ towards body acceptance and true peace with my relationship with food. losing the structure of school and living alone has been harder for this than I was expecting, and both my ability to maintain healthy habits without much stress and my confidence in myself have taken a big hit. that said, this is the first year I have ever looked in a mirror naked when I "look bad" and found some beauty in the strange shapes it takes over time. it really is a journey, and my belly is coming along with.

the IRA: wow. Manchin made this a rollercoaster that it really didn't need to be, but when it finally passed by surprise... I haven't felt anything like that ever. Amidst so much shitty political activity this year re: repro rights, LGBT rights, COP27, etc, this was such a BOON and it relieved a pretty huge psychological weight I didn't even realize was there. Having imperfect but real legislation at the federal level is a dream come true for me and so many activists and is so motivating. It has also been gratifying to use my intimate knowledge of this bill in my work. sweet.

art class: haven't had an art instructor since freshman year of college when I took my animation class, and it seems like one of those things that only gets better as you get older, because you can really appreciate advice but you also understand that art and taste are personal. having a structured amount of time to create art with others was nearly euphoria inducing some weeks. one week I walked the half hour home with a shit-eating grin on my face the entire time feeling like the luckiest person alive. another week I was really freaking out and had to step out to cry in the academic building bathroom and thought I couldn't take it but then I went back in and listened to music and drew for two more hours and felt so much better. art is therapy, as they say.

killing my move: it is uncomfortable to toot one's own horn, but looking back I am impressed with how I managed my first two-ish months in the bay. I am proud that I just put myself out there like an animal - it brought me into so many weird social situations, and it was gratifying to make peace with the fact that some worked out and some didn't. that's not me being fundamentally unlikeable, it's just that some things connect in life and some don't, and that's a good thing. it has given me so much hope and inspiration to broaden my horizons outside of the east coast and ivy league lifestyle and mindset, so shoutout to relentless socializing and everyone who was subject to it.

alcohol: I drank out of obligation in college and smoked weed for pleasure, but these days I'm not ingesting much THC at all and kind of loving alcohol. I think I forgot that drinking with people is genuinely hilarious, fun, and makes spending time with others easier. This makes it sound like I drink a lot when I really have like 3 drinks a week; I just mean that I really appreciate the social function it serves and the joy of imbibing together

my thesis: after submitting, I was sad with my time management over the final few weeks and really wished I had done a better job because I felt it could have been a lot stronger. But with some distance now, I think it's really cool that I found an academic niche that really suited what I loved to learn about and produced important original research on something that matters to me a lot. How cool is that?

no more leg/pit shaving: It was been truly pleasurable to see wayyy more women letting their leg hair, armpit hair and I presume bushes grow out on the west coast. Sometimes all it takes is some other people doing something for you to realize it's ok to do (a good general lesson!) and I am over leg and armpit shaving for now. It has been a great process to feel more acquainted with what my body hair does on its own and confront my own internalized misogyny when I sometimes catch my armpit hairs in the mirror wearing a tank top or worry about wearing a skirt. I realize I have it so easy in this department because my hair is light and most people don't notice. still, a revelation!

learning an instrument: I finally bought a guitar this past month and got an app that is teaching me to play. It scratches a long-untouched part of my brain (as in literally feels like scratching an itch inside my head). so empowering and fun to do something new from square 0

cuenca jacket: I love the jacket I got in high school for my uniform when studying abroad in ecuador so much and was just marveling at how weirdly good it is an how much it has stood the test of time for me. perfect design. I wrote it an ode.

workout classes: sometimes what you really need is a weird woman leading you through a yoga class in person, together with some other people you don't know.

deleting instagram/being a little mysterious: another psychic relief which is so obviously not good for me.

realizing the social stuntedness that comes with growing up rich: an overdue reckoning.

friendship: they call it the best ship, but to be honest I think I've neglected it over the years, often partial to romantic connections. as time goes on, cultivating friendships only seems to get harder to keep up at the same number and pace as was possible in school. Also, trying to make new friends from scratch leaves me feeling renewed gratitude for my friends.

volunteering: it is WILD to me that more people (especially in my situation in life (young professionals in new places with office jobs and no student loans)) don't do this more. I have spent the last few months volunteering on alternating saturdays at Creative Growth's youth program in oakland and my neighborhood church's Friday night meal which we serve to mostly unhoused people.

The first few weeks I caught myself feeling like it was just another job, but then I just remembered that I am electing to do this and it is such a powerful experience to get to know more communities around you and more people. I have loved getting to know the artists in CG's youth program, literally supporting their work and feeling inspired by what they create. It has also just been fun! Sometimes there's not a bigger lesson! I have loved finding a friend in a very old fellow church volunteer named Fredora; hearing about her life and laughing with her. There are so many ways to participate in community and while there's always something to critique about the ways nonprofits and churches give aid and do their work, for me the wonderful awkwardness of showing up somewhere just to show up and doing it over and over again has been a marvel.

mushrooms and korean food: yum. my palate has reached new heights because this is the year I finally started craving mushrooms and loving korean food. I also think it's the first time I've lived somewhere with great korean food.

the bay: the culture shock of the west coast has been wild, and I am enthralled with the megalopolis that all the cities around the bay make up. I am excited to keep taking it in.

tilden view: along with the culture shock, the natural beauty shock of the west coast seems to overwhelm my little bluegrass pea brain every. time. Recently I went on a bike ride as the sun was starting to set up in tilden park (about 2 miles from my house up the hills) and as I was climbing, every few hundred meters there was a new view and every time I looked back out at the expanse of the bay and layers of cities and hills, without fail, tears would just spring to my eyes. the perfection of beauty is creepy, like someone took what is most pleasing to a human and just turned it up to 100, but it also just knocks my socks off, and I can't stop feeling amazed by that.

cassis: Rex and I spent a few days in Cassis between our time in Venice this summer and visiting my family in Provence (what a sentence!) Anyway, it was one of those strange experiences which was so undeniably and unbelievably pleasant -- sopping up bouillabaisse with crisp bread, watching the french tourists amble in the heat, renting a dingy to cruise by the Calanques and their shimmering beauty, the outrageous sweetness of the sun setting from our Airbnb's window. We knew then, I think, just how good it was, and it is impossible not to feel a wave of fondness still for that perfect vacation.

stuff on the street: in berkeley and oakland people just leave stuff out for other to take. usually it's junk from their house or clothes or books, sometimes kitchen supplies or food they grew in their gardens. one of the reasons they do this is because it never rains and so people leave everything outside and have no awareness of the constant covering and protecting everyone does around the world instinctively. but it also has a wonderful feeling of people just turning out their pockets un-self consciously and I love looking at it

having love: really caring for people who aren't so much in your life is one of the best heart-achey good, sad feelings. shout out to my exes!

writing: I finally want to write again (see this blog etc.)- makes me feel like a kid and so good

worst person in the world: this movie is so good. I rewatched it later this year which I almost never do. just wonderful

Laguna Beach: this show is epically good. Never saw it when it aired and it is deeply curious and hilarious. on netflix now

lying: I've had a few lie-based evenings this year, and it's especially fun to do with someone else/new without any mean deception. It's good to try on different answers sometimes!

craigslist: always trawling. always a happy customer. best finds this year include my apartment and my cheap guitar.

anonymity: there has been so much freedom and free feeling leaving cambridge and a place where everywhere you went you were kind of seen. I've found it so much easier to trust that what I'm doing is really coming from me internally because there is no one to see it and have thoughts who knows me. I have slowly begun running into people who I know now when I'm out but man, what a blissful few months

babysitting: another fun way to get to know the people who fill the physical space around you, and to encounter child brain, which is always good. and you make some spending money. I am already sad that this is something that gets weird in a few years

landlords: landlords have gotten a bad rap this century and for good reason. but I love the strangeness of cohabitating with the weird hokey couple I live with and I especially love overhearing all their arguments. I know them intimately and not at all and venmo them at the end of every month and occupy their home! How weird and fun.

"how good is this?": saying this in an australian accent in my head a lot (see gratitude practice)

Debby ryan: Rex and I saw her on the beach in puerto rico. awesome.

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reddy-reads · 2 years

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Solstice Wood, Patricia A McKillip

Okay I finished the book!

Thoughts (and spoilers) under the jump

1. I wasn’t sure I was going to finish it. I bought it months ago, possibly even a year ago, and it sat about 1/3 read on my nightstand for months--that usually bodes ill. Then, of course, I decided to make it the November book so that, one way or another, it’d be taken care of by the end of this month.

2. I picked this book up more-or-less at random after seeing it discussed in a thread about “books that have a magic system that hinges on something ordinary/everyday rather than Great and Obscure Spells” (a la Tamora Pierce’s Circle of Magic books). In this case, the magic is worked through needlework and threadcraft--the witches’ coven in the book is the local Fiber Arts Guild. They work their magic through sewing, quilting, crochet, knitting, macrame... and they use it to maintain and defend the boundaries between the mundane world and the Fair Folk.

3. The magic system is awesome! What we see of it. It’s not explained much, but it does get some description, and I loved that. The plot is... okay? Like I said, I plowed through a little less than half of it and then didn’t feel the need to finish it. Normally my favorite books get their momentum up before then. But more on this in a second.

The chapters are have varying character POVs, but it’s not really used to a super amazing extent (for the most part). If it wasn’t for the chapter headings like “Chapter 2: Steve” I’m not sure I could have told you who was narrating which chapters? Not to toot my own horn but I think even I have stretched myself a lot re: having the narration be really flavored by the POV character, and I think the characters’ voices could have been more deeply developed.

3b: Plot: having damned with faint praise re: plot and pacing just now, I will say that when I did pick the book back up again, the book did start to snap along pretty well. When the changeling appears, things really get moving. I think I said something like “oh man I hopped off too early this is actually kinda good,” so if you can get over that hump, it’s easy to finish. That said, I really don’t think authors generally intend for their books to sag in the early-middle.

4: Philosophically speaking, I did like the conclusion. Instead of ending in a big battle or dramatic sacrifice or big violent orgy, the book wraps with the matriarch of the family (and the head of the Fiber Arts Guild)... changing her mind. She has a perspective change, and she changes her previous stance of “the Fae must be kept out at any cost, they can never never never be allowed in our world” to “maybe we can see what happens if we stop reinforcing our spells. Maybe we can see if they’re as dangerous as we always believed, or if they’re only as dangerous as human people.” She doesn’t do a full 180 and suddenly embrace Them, but she does realize that maybe, in keeping out what she is afraid of, she is also keeping out too much. (Also, a great number of people she cares about turn out to be either part-fae or in love with a fay, so she changes her mind largely for them because she doesn’t want to drive them away any farther than she already has.) And I do love a book that has that sort of shift at its heart.

5: In conclusion: I’m glad I read the book, I’m glad I stuck with it and finished it. It definitely has some good points, and I think they largely outweigh the so-so things about it. But I’m not keeping the book, and I’m not sure I’d recommend it. It feels like a “if this seems like your kind of story, go for it. But if you’re not quite sold on it, maybe just see if you can get a library copy.”

And that’s November’s book: Solstice Wood, Patricia A McKillip.

#solstice wood #book #book of the month #november book

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warmthintouches · 2 years

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Me: can I ask you something?

Him: sure

Me: You for sure will 100% say no but I need a date to a reception on the 3rd of next month...and I just thought id ask you before I ask someone else. No pressure, just wanted to ask you first

Him: okay, so 🥺 1) idk if I have to work that day or not... 2) if i don't work that day I have to go to a family reunion which will be hell for me im sure

Me: okie dokie 👍

Him: sorry

Me: Nah its cool, I didn't really expect you to say yes 😂 doesn't seem like your thing.

Him: honestly its not, mainly bc I know it would be a bunch of strangers and then you..

Me: yeah i get it.. lol

Him: 😘

Me: It won't like...bother you if I take someone else tho right? Bc I might, which is why I asked.

Him: not at all

Me: okay 👌

Him: Just dont go fucking whoever you take lol jk jk

Me: I won't lololol

Him: I don't care if you do, but thanks lol

Me: LOL you're so charming 😭😂

Him: or just take a girl and fuck her all you want

Me: thats a double standard for sure

Him: I know im sorry lol

Me: turd

Him: But seriously if you wanted too you could, i dont care.. im not gonna control you... in that way 😈😈

Me: I most likely won't, ill just take a friend, but good to know you don't care, I guess? Honestly not sure how I feel about it but 🤷‍♀️

Him: We arent exclusive really, so i dont wanna tell you couldnt do it if you wanted.. i know it sounds weird

Me: Yeah I know what you mean, I think? ...just kinda.. weird. I can never tell if you actually like me, like even just to talk too.. and you never really want to spend time with me, which makes me feel stupid somehow. But I also want to fuck you really bad so...🤷‍♀️

Him: I get it, its my fault in a way.. im just not a super social person even when I like the person, the living at home and always getting questioned shit ruins a lot of my drive to do much of anything...

Me: I get it, just kinda...idk...idk how to explain it. Like, sometimes I want attention from you and you don't seem to want to give it? And I know im worth it...so it just kinda bums me out sometimes. But I understand not wanting to be questioned and stuff bc I hate that too...I just..idk?

Me: Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up a whole thing.

Him: It's fine

Me: Okay, see...this is not the case where "its fine" covers as an answer to all that I just said....😂

Him: Sorry, i wasnt meaning that for the whole paragraph.. just the last part

Me: 😂😂 okay....

Him: I 100% understand where your coming from and I wish I was better about that stuff

Me: Its fine, just kinda want to hang out sometime...but I know you don't really want too. And...not to toot my own horn or nothing... but im a cutie....and it doesn't seem like you think so half the time. You gotta give me a compliment every once in a while or something. Or like...actually want to talk to me besides when you want to naked...

Him: understood

Me: 👍👍Im sorry to come at you with all of my ~feels. I was just finally feeling brave enough to voice them to you.

Him: You need to speak on this stuff, its not a problem.. i guess im just not as committed to whatever this is or maybe it is my introvert self idk at this point

Me: I don't like speaking about it bc im always afraid it'll be awkward. Its not even that you have to commit or whatever. I still don't know what I want either, but...I just need some reassurance that you actually like talking to me or want to be around me at all. I require some attention at the least. Heck, sometimes I second guess whether you even think im cute bc you never tell me unless its trying to be spicy. Like, I look cute at work sometimes, you could give me a compliment when no one is around 😂

Him: Okay you do have a point on the compliment thing, i guess im keeping it down-low even when no one is around lol

Me: Yeah..I understand keeping it on the dl, I hate everyone at work gossiping about every little thing. But sometimes we're alone and you still ignore my presence and that hurts a little 😅

Him: Understandable, I will try and work on that...I promise...

Me: 👍👍

Him: *sends a video of a super comfy chair that rests your back while you read.

Me: I would totally buy that

Him: for reading right?

Me: of course 😊😉

Him: 😈😈

Me: 😘

Him: 😘

Me: you're so fucking hot, not fair

Him: oh come on 😊, you know you're the sexy one in this convo

Me: nope, not at all 😉

Him: stop lying 🔥🔥

Him: omg ☺🥰

Me: never 😘☺

#produceboy

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slasherscream · 4 years

Text

just a small blurb but i can’t stop thinking about -

BILLY LOOMIS FT. A HILARIOUS READER

they don’t know how to act! no brain to mouth filter whatsoever. it’s the wild, wild west whenever they decide to move their lips.

imagine that reader with mister. stick up his ass billy loomis. can you GET what i’m laying down here?? the age old riddle of unstoppable force meets immovable object. whomst will win?

you may you run within the same general circle as billy and stu but you aren’t close to them or anything. you’re just so funny that everyone loves having you around. you could sit at any table during lunch and be greeted with smiles and eye-rolls, everyone already trying to guess what you’ll come up with next.

it’s easy to not get caught always watching you when almost everyone is doing the same thing. you draw the eyes of anyone who’s talked to you, even if just for a little while. your personality nothing short of infectious.

it drives billy a little crazy, actually. how you tell a little joke and he wants to look up and see the way the punchline shaped your mouth. how he hears your laugh in a crowd and has to stop himself from trying to find you so he can watch you be so caught up in being happy-

at one point he’d thought he wanted to kill you. he’d never focused on another person so much without wanting them dead, frankly.

but when he and stu were picking their next victim he bit down on his tongue to stop himself from saying your name. if he said it he’d follow through on it just to prove a point. so he didn’t say your name, and he admitted to himself that maybe he liked you a little. maybe even more than liked you.

he still can’t bring himself to do anything more than stand a little closer to you at a party, or catch your eye and not be the first one to look away.

stu is no idiot though and he’s billy’s guardian angel of “bro you’re capable of human emotions”. it just takes one time of billy slipping up while you’re around. you make a dumb joke, not even one of your hilarious ones and billy scoffs quietly but not the way he usually does when stu tells a joke that doesn’t land. it was soft and there was the hint of a smile as he turned away from watching you. a real smile, too.

now that stu is involved all bets are off. he loves to see bullshit play out!!! even more than that?? he wants to see his best friend HUMBLED by the human condition of pining and having to regularly interact with the Person You Are Pining For™.

so he “casually” tells you he’s never seen billy really laugh ( a lie. he’s seen everything billy has to offer, for better or worse ).

now billy has the full force of your comedic talent focused on him at all times!! because that’s so sad!! not even his best friend has seen him laugh? the person who he spends every minute with?? this is an emergency!!!

( stu thinks it’s kind of cute how easily you believed him. he thinks it’s cuter that you’ve decided it’s your life’s mission just to make billy laugh. some days you look like you found a hundred dollars laying in the street just because you get a smile out of him. he’s been the only one caring for billy for so long it guts him to see someone else finally do the same thing. and lord knows billy doesn’t make it easy- )

everyone needs a laugh!!! you are the laugh doctor! please hold still for this exam billy you are obviously sick and in need of healing.

suddenly billy has two shadows instead of one. one of his shadows follows him around like an overeager puppy ( and it’s overwhelming - after so long of watching you from afar - to suddenly have every ounce of your attention. it’s like walking through a blizzard for miles, never wanting anything more than to be back in your warm house. then you get there and open the door and you’re home but the warm air hits your face and it hurts. that’s what it’s like when you hang off his arm rambling like you wouldn’t want to be anywhere else but with him even on the most mundane days. ) and the other shadow is looking oddly smug recently.

this all goes on for so long that you’re starting to get discouraged even as you also, incidentally, start bonding with him because of the sheer amount of time you spend following this man around for No Good Reason (according to him).

the boiling point of it all? the anniversary of his mother leaving.

you know his mother is gone, of course. and you might even know the reason why (it’s a small town and people will always talk) but you didn’t know the date. you don’t have it etched into your memory the way it’s been burned into billy’s.

stu has been walking on eggshells for weeks but you’ve ignored billy’s prickly mood, thinking he’s just getting into one of his funks.

in fact you doubled down on giving him attention. on teasing him. touching him. talking to him. staring at him. him. him. him. him. him -

as if you don’t have anything better to do or anywhere else to be.

the closer it gets to the day his mother up and left him without so much as a goodbye the more your constant presence starts to make him feel sick. you seem to be none the wiser as with each passing day the way his eyes settle on you gets more and more unhinged.

( stu is nearby, painfully unable to help either one of you. a helpless onlooker that’s praying billy doesn’t go over the edge and kill you, or worse - push you away. )

and you’re doing it because you care so much it hurts but billy is insecure, at his very core, and he loves you and maybe he’s loved you for so long it’s pathetic. and some part of him can’t believe that you actually care about him. that this is anything more than a game to you when every little fucking thing you do means everything to him.

it comes to a head when you invite yourself over the night of the anniversary. billy had seemed off the day before and you wanted to make sure he was okay or make him feel better if he wasn’t.

( the funny thing about being so caught up in how you feel about someone is that it’s easy to miss the way they feel about you. because you love billy. you love him when he’s ranting about the complexities of the horror genre. you love him when he’s moody. you love him when he’s happy but thinks it’s not cool to show it. you love him when the sky is black as night or when it’s the brightest blue it can be. billy’s obsessed with the way you fill up a room just by being you but you can’t get over the way he invades every part of who you are. you can’t remember who you were before you first looked into those eyes of his, overflowing with intensity, and thought ‘ game on, tough guy ‘ )

he opens the door, already having half a mind to kill the person who has the nerve to bother him today of all fucking days - and there you are.

and he snaps.

he snaps and he says every hurtful thing he can think of to say. because he wants to see how far you can take your stupid act. because he wants you to walk away so he can have a reason to kill you and get it over with. because he can’t love anyone again just so they can leave.

when he runs out of words to say the rage subsides and he sees you. he sees you the way he’s never seen you before. on the verge of tears. and now he wonders if the one thing worse than you leaving him is you leaving him because he hurt you.

but you push your way into his house, close the door and tell him that he’s a fucking asshole and that you’d beat the shit out of him if you didn’t love him so much.

he finally laughs. it’s a shock to the system. it’s explosive and messy, the way billy is whenever he lets himself feel anything. you don’t have time to commit it to memory before it turns bitter and verges on hysterical.

you’ll both always remember the way you rushed to wrap him into your arms and hold him close. the first moment when all the walls came crashing down. and even though you shouldn’t be, you were there waiting for him, ready to hold him together when he couldn’t do it for himself anymore.

you talk all through the night and you don’t laugh but you smile at each other, and even though the smiles are a little sad they mean so much. maybe all this time you were hoping that if you could just make him happy enough then he’d always be yours in a way that no one else could ever have him. it was so fitting of him - with his contrary personality - to decide to share the ache inside of him instead.

but you know this is so much more permanent and meaningful than his sweetest smile, or his brightest laugh. when he finally falls asleep in your arms, defenseless and vulnerable in so many ways, you feel like you could cry as the full weight of his trust sinks in.

you can share happiness with anyone. but sadness?? the kind that’s seeped into every part of you? the kind that feels like a rot in your bones? that burns at the back of your throat? that’s special.

and you do get to see him laugh the way you’ve always wanted to.

you wake up late the next day and he’s, dare you say it, almost shy when he first looks up at you, already trying to move away from the warmth and comfort you’re so readily willing to give him. and it’s so endearing to see billy in the aftermath of all his anger. you did that for him - gave him a different kind of relief that no amount of blood shed could substitute.

he tries to apologize, in his roundabout way, for either having human emotions in the first place or for burdening you with them. it’s hard to figure out since he’s so terrible at communication.

you shut him up by kissing him and for once he doesn’t have anything to say.

you kiss for a long time, the accumulation of months of wanting one another and ignoring it. and then you pull away to catch your breathe. as soon as you found it you tilt your forehead against his and look at him like he’s your whole world and it still makes him feel sick but now it’s in a good way. because now he can have you.

he thinks you’re going to tell him you love him again and this time he’ll say it back because you need to know. need to know that you’re everything. that nothing matters but you.

instead you say “it be like that sometimes” and the words hang in the air long enough that you start to regret them. until he starts to laugh. he wraps his arms around you and laughs so hard his shoulders shake. he presses his smile into your cheeks and says he can’t stand you.

but it sounds so much like an i love you that you don’t even need to hear him say it.

once he’s done laughing he says it anyway.

#billy loomis x reader #bet y'all weren't expecting angst in a reader story that's titled ft. hilarious reader :)))#im slowly getting back to writing confidence #covid really ZONKED my creative energy and then i got nervous about being out of practice #but then i realized ..... this is a family.....a family that wants to get brutally (redacted) by fictional murder machines #not to toot my own horn but if i said half the things that i think out loud?? billy would be down on one knee already #both to propose and because he got winded from laughing so hard #his laugh muscles are as weak as his hair is greasy #no editing or proofreading we die like fucking warriors #i either wrote everything down perfectly or god strikes me down for spelling errors

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friendandphoe · 3 years

Text

okay the formatting on this is gonna be a lil weird bUT!! have this figuring it out/something to last revamp that’s been sitting in my brain for the last few weeks @ahbonjour @museumlad @creativeskull95

There’s no way in hell she’s ever looking Professor Keelson in the eye again. “I’m sorry,” she croaks for the thousandth time, and finds a tissue being pressed into her hand.

“Quite alright, my dear,” Professor Keelson says soothingly, leaning back in his chair with his hands folded over his round belly. “Wipe your face, now, there you go. I’m — well.” And he rubs the bridge of his nose, just under his round wire glasses. “I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this, unfortunately.”

She nods numbly, ice trickling down her spine.

You ruined everything.

“I’m sorry,” she tries again, because it’s all she can think to say, but the professor waves her off with a weathered hand and pushes himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane as he makes his way to the mini fridge he keeps under the bookshelves.

“Now, now,” he says, almost scolding, and pulls out a clementine, a bar of chocolate, and a bottle of water. “Don’t you start that with me, Ms. Ochoa. This is not the first time I’ve had students crying in my office, I daresay it won’t be the last.” And he sits heavily back down in his chair, setting the snacks in front of her. “Eat, drink. Now, I won’t press on what’s been troubling you, but you know, these tired old eyes of mine do still catch a few things here and there, and I have seen you — well. I don’t like to use the word struggling, but you know, perhaps it is a bit more apt than anything else I could think of.” And she knows he’s looking at her, knows those beady black eyes well, but just focuses on unwrapping the chocolate bar as quietly as she can.

What makes you think we want you around?

“You’ve had a rough time of it, this year.”

It’s not a question, but she still finds herself nodding confirmation. “I don’t know what happened.” She says hoarsely, and reaches for the water bottle.

Leave us alone.

“I’ve been wanting this for years, I worked so hard to get into this program, I just—” and she has to press her mouth shut to keep the lump in her throat from escaping.

Leave us alone!

“Some… stuff. Uh, came up, I guess.”

They sit in silence for a minute, then softly: “The human mind is a wonderful, confusing little thing.” Professor Keelson says. She dares a glance up at him, finds him — thank god — staring out his office window. “It tends to block out anything unpleasant we might not want to hear, and often that negativity will build and build and build until, one day, the weight becomes too much to bear.” He sighs and scrubs a hand through his short white beard, messing the hairs out of their orderly style. “And then we must face the unfortunate truth that sometimes what we thought we wanted is, in actuality, not at all the path we should be taking."

She drops her gaze back down to her bouncing knee. “Is it stupid?” She blurts out, watching her leg blur under her rising tears. “I just — this is a good school, a good program, and I’ll have so many job opportunities when I graduate—”

A weathered hand stretches out across the desk, just reaching to where her pinky would've been. “And yet,” Professor Keelson murmurs. “It won’t make you happy.” He sits back in his chair, looking every inch the benevolent Santa Claus his students know him to be. “And given how miserable you’ve been this year, Ms. Ochoa, I daresay your ultimate happiness is worth far more than any graduating job offers.” His smile drops for a half-second. “Though I can’t say I won’t be sorry to see you go. You’re already one of my best students, you know.”

You're an embarrassment to my name and reputation.

A wet little giggle chokes out of her throat, and she wipes down her face one more time. “Don’t tempt me, I’m half-considering staying,” she admits. “Even with all of this.”

“Ah, but if you do, what sort of state will you be in once you graduate?” Professor Keelson says, raising a bushy brow. “All you young folk are the same. You’re young, you have that wonderful, limitless energy, but you must learn to take care of yourselves now, while you have the space to do so. Won’t do you any good to drive yourselves into the ground every night when you’re my age, you know!” He looks at her appraisingly, then smiles wide. “And you know, my dear, there’s great strength in being able to admit you were wrong. I’ve always admired people who are strong enough to chase their dreams instead of following the easy path. Do you have an idea where you’re going, yet?”

Don’t ever come back here, you little—

“There’s a performing and visual arts conservatory,” she says hesitantly. “River Park, downstate. They’ve got really good photography and filmmaking programs, and, um.” She pauses, unsure how to explain how right it had all felt when she’d been reading about it online. “Well, I have an interview on Wednesday, so.”

Professor Keelson’s smile widens. “River Park! My partner studied illustration there, years ago when we were both young. You’ll do wonderfully.”

She can’t help but feel like his faith is ever-so-slightly misplaced —

I didn't want you.

— maybe it’s just the existential crisis talking, who knows —

Do you understand me?

— but she can’t quite bring herself to argue against the sparkling excitement in the professor’s eyes. She lets him press another chocolate bar and tissue combo into her hand as he shuffles her out of his office, with strict, cheerful instructions to come see him before she leaves for her interview.

You were a mistake.

Tuesday night comes in the blink of an eye; she’d barely dumped her meager wardrobe back into the suitcase she’d kept under her bed and her sticky notes are still haphazardly slapped to the wall above her desk. She’s not exactly sure where the time went — it’s not like she went to any classes. Or ate much. Or was sleeping, really. Granted she did try, but the third time in the same night she woke up sobbing because her blankets had twisted around her leg, trapping her in an all-too-familiar heat vortex—

window won't break it's too hot it hurts to breathe window won't break it's so fucking hot she can't think window won't break but it'll slide get out of this goddamn heat get out get out crunch fuck ow hurts hurts ow fuck hurts her toes shouldn't be ow fuck fuck fuck pointing that way hurts hurts fucking hurts can't feel her knee fuck fuck where's papá—

— she kind of gave up. She doesn't even bother pulling out her shitty, half-broken headphones to try and watch something on Netflix to try and pass the time, she just lays in bed and listens to Rebecca softly snoring five feet away. The ceiling is infinitely more interesting than anything else she could’ve been focusing on, anyway.

Except maybe her portfolio. Which. She hasn’t really. Looked at.

She’s so fucked.

Still, she drags herself out of bed nice and early at 7 am Wednesday morning, beating her alarm by the customary 4 minutes, and actually manages to gather the energy to sift through her remaining clothes to dig out something — well. She doesn’t really have anything “nice,” per say, but she does have an oversized sweater that’ll pass as a dress once she puts on some makeup and a belt and ties her hair up, and that’ll have to be good enough.

You show up to my door looking like that?

River Park is going to laugh her right out the door.

Everything she might need is already shoved unceremoniously into her backpack — wallet, keys, wrist brace, student ID, laptop, flash drive (in its place of honor in the tiny pocket), knee brace, fruit snacks, water bottle — but her eye catches on her DLSR just as she’s finished tying the laces on her most comfortable boot, and she hesitates. She hasn’t really looked at her portfolio much recently — she knows she’s got some old pictures from Manhattan, and maybe some from various campus events that might be good, but it’s been a little hard to go out and take nice shots when she’s been drowning in depression soup for the past four months. Four years. Whatever. Either way, she doesn’t have much to show for herself, and inspiration hasn’t really hit lately.

But River Park is — well, she has no idea, really, she hasn’t seen it in person yet, but the photos online are gorgeous, all glass-and-brick buildings framed by forests and gardens. Very much a college town, from what she can tell, the campus map isn’t really a map so much as a general directory pointing out which buildings were associated with the conservatory, but there was something that felt weirdly homey about seeing those pictures. Maybe it was the layout of the buildings, maybe it was the way they described their classes and professors, maybe it was just the simple fact that everyone in those pictures was genuinely smiling, but she’d gotten this weird, longing ache just below her collarbone that had made her close down all her other college-related tabs and email River Park’s photography and filmmaking department.

Something feels good about that campus. And maybe, if she gets there a little early, she can—

You don't get to come into my life and — and ruin everything I have here.

It’s only seven forty-two. Her interview’s not until one, and the train ride downstate should only take an hour. She’s got time.

Which is how she finds herself knocking on Professor Keelson’s office door, DLSR hanging around her neck, about two hours earlier than she’d been intending to be there, praying to who and whatever might be listening that he’s actually in and she didn’t just horribly fuck this up like she’s been fucking up, oh, who’s to say, just about everything she touches these past few months.

You’re not a part of this family. You never will be.

“Come in, come in!” She hears just beyond the door, and she cautiously peeks in to find the wizened old professor crouching over his printer, staring at it suspiciously as it slowly spits out some document. “Hello, dear. Wasn’t expecting you this early!”

I think you should leave.

“Sorry,” she manages, hovering in the doorway. “I just — change of plans.”

Professor Keelson nods, collects his papers, and creaks over to his desk. “Yes, very good.” he agrees, shuffling the papers into two piles. “Take a seat, I promise I won’t keep you very long. You look nice, by the way.”

She sits, already relaxing in the warm familiarity of Professor Keelson’s overstuffed office. Maybe this is why he’d wanted her to visit before she went, just to make sure she wouldn’t vomit on the interviewers. “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re very welcome. Now,” he says, stuffing one pile of papers into a folder. “These are all your important documents: transcripts, transferable credits, disability accommodations, et cetera. Pardon my overstepping, but you did seem a little, ah, frazzled, shall we say? Last you came to speak with me and I was almost positive that you wouldn’t have thought of pulling the paperwork together.”

Which is absolutely true, she hadn’t, and she can’t even bring herself to feel insulted that he’d assumed she wouldn’t. “Thank you very much,” she says, trying desperately to seem calm and cool and collected and not crush her very expensive, very precious camera in her white-knuckle grip.

A mess. You're a mess.

Professor Keelson’s face crinkles into a smile. “You’re very welcome. You’ll be happy to know that, since you’ve already completed all your core classes and general requirements, all of those credits will easily transfer between the schools. There may be a class or two you’ll have to make up, but you should be able to jump right in with your major-specific classes. Now, this,” he says, folding the other papers into an envelope. “Is your letter of recommendation. I’ll put it in the folder with everything else, but I wanted you to know that you had it.”

Oh, fuck, she might start crying again. “Professor—” she starts, but he’s already slid the folder across the desk to her.

“Ms. Ochoa, if I may.” Her mouth snaps shut, and he continues: “Our time together has been short, yes, but you have been one of my favorite students to ever come through these doors. Barring your obvious intelligence, passion, and work ethic, you’re also relentlessly kind, despite everything you’ve gone through.” His gaze fixes on her cheek for the briefest of moments, tracing over the lumps and bumps of her scars, but his eyes are as soft as they’ve ever been. “I don’t presume to know your history, but I know bits of your present, and the person I’ve seen would make a valuable asset to any school she goes to. If you approach your new classes and projects with as much determination as you did mine, I’ve no doubt your new instructors will be as proud of you as I am. I let them know as much.”

...

She numbly takes the folder, desperately blinking back tears. “Th-thank you, sir.” She manages, thick in the back of her throat. “I-I’ll do my best.”

Professor Keelson takes up his customary position, hands laced neatly over his belly. “You will.” He agrees, smiling. “Now, you should be heading out soon. I’d hate to make you miss your train, especially if you want to get there early.”

“Yes — yes.” And she gets up on autopilot, sliding the folder into her backpack as carefully as she can manage. “Thank you. Thank you so much, professor, I can’t — I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

She’s halfway out the door when she hears him call: “Ms. Ochoa, one more thing?”

She turns.

The professor smiles benevolently at her from his chair. “Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started.”

And with that, she’s on her way.

Get out.

So, update: maybe deciding to take her portfolio pictures on her way to her college interview was a stupid idea, but to be fair, a lot of her stupid ideas have worked out pretty decently before, so. It’s fine.

Probably.

She definitely doesn’t almost miss the train by snapping shots of the mostly-empty station, but in her defense, the morning fog hadn't quite dissipated yet, and the spooky air of possibility that the tracks had been extending and disappearing into was just begging to be captured. And she absolutely doesn’t continually hop seats throughout the hour-long ride to get different angles of the seats, the blurry towns and roads whizzing past, or even a couple of self-portraits here and there. It’s not like there are people around for her to bother, anyway, so it’s fine. (Probably.) It’s a little hard getting a satisfyingly dramatic shot of her staring out the window, but she thinks the one where they’re passing through a tunnel and she’s locked eyes with her shadowy reflection might be a winner. She won’t really know until she opens them up on her computer, which will probably end up being just before the interview, with her luck, so. Who knows, she might just be wasting her time and battery life.

It’s the most fun she’s had in a while, though.

And. Fuck, maybe it makes no sense, but she's still got that feeling in her chest. It's creeping up to her ponytail, at this point, tugging on the ends of her curls, ordering her to pay attention.

Capture this.

It's important.

Last time she felt like that, she won an award, so. Y'know. Fuck her if she's going to ignore it.

She cuts herself off when there’s ten minutes left in the journey, just to be sure she’s not scrambling to put herself together as she’s pulling up to the station, but ten minutes, it turns out, is both much longer and much shorter than she thought it’d be. Just enough time to run down the list of all the possible ways this could (and would) go wrong, but not enough to steady her racing heart before the train’s slowing down.

You're delusional. This isn't one of your little fairy tales. This is — it's not going to happen.

Don’t give up on yourself before you’ve even gotten started, she remembers, taking one last breath to steel herself, and swings herself up onto her feet and out the doors.

The station is nice enough, but not terribly different from the one she’d started in besides being a little cleaner, so she shoulders her backpack and makes her way down the stairs and into the town proper.

Which.

Wow.

Maybe it’s just a seasonal thing, maybe not, but all the buildings she can see are draped with hanging lights, and even the curving street lights have extra strands hanging over the sidewalks. She almost wishes she’d scheduled her interview later in the day, just to be able to get a shot of those lights against the dark sky, but contents herself with snapping pictures of the incredibly aesthetic sidewalk and shops. She spots an art supply store with a cheerful blue door sandwiched between a movie theater and an apartment complex that frames up nicely, and there’s a coffee shop with swirling, festive winter-y designs painted on the window with pots of poinsettias framing the corners that’s a — no pun intended — picture-perfect paragon of coziness. She stops maybe a little too long to zoom in on the red leaves and flawless paint, making sure to keep the actual inside of the shop out of focus, because as cute as the beanbags and mismatched armchairs are, she doesn’t really feel like going in to ask if it’s alright for her to take pictures of the small handful of people both in front of and behind the counter.

One last shot of the poinsettias and she moves on, turning her lens to the last few, dying flowers in their garden beds, then to the display window of a bookstore that proudly announces its support of the LGBT community with various painted flags, then to the churning river that cuts through the town and the elegant bridge that arcs proudly above it.

There’s not a lot of people walking around right now, but she can definitely see kids around her age up the street, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as their breath puffs out in front of them. A cute dog bounces over to say hello before its owner tugs it away with a sheepish smile, and even without their leaves, the trees interspersed along the sidewalk stand tall, proud, and lovely.

She’s got that weird ache in her chest again — stronger this time — that indiscernible pull that draws her to stay, and she puts her camera down, puffing out a shaky breath.

What made you think we want you here?

“It doesn’t matter.” She tells herself sternly, leaning up on the sides of the bridge. “It doesn’t matter unless you get in.”

Speaking of. She pulls her phone out of her pocket, fully intending to double check the email she’d been sent with instructions on where to go, but her eye catches on the time.

Twelve forty-six.

So. Maybe not the best idea to go gallivanting around a campus she doesn’t know, especially when she has an extremely important interview to get to, but even as she’s scolding herself, she knows the pink flush in her cheeks isn’t just from the cold, and she’s got more energy now than she’s had in months, so.

Worth it.

Thank god E.A. Archer Hall is straightforward enough to find; Google Maps tells her it’s a seven minute walk in a mostly straight line from where she is on the bridge now, which she just about manages even though it’s cold and her stump is starting to ache. The building is emblazoned with the name right on the side, so it’s impossible to miss, but she needs a keycard to get in, and somehow she thinks her current school ID isn’t exactly going to fly here.

But someone, somewhere, is smiling on her, because she’s only just gotten to oh, shit before a tall woman with vitiligo and long box braids strides towards the door, pushing it open.

“Alejandra Ochoa?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she says as smoothly as she can behind her chattering teeth, and the woman smiles.

“You're right on time. Come on in, let's get started."

#I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ABOUT HOW DIFFERENT FIO/STL WOULD GO NOW SO IM REWRITING IT #i dont wanna spoil things bc i am in fact working on the next bits but here are some minor thoughts:#1: alexa starts out as an architecture major then switches schools to go into photography/filmmaking spring semester 2nd year #((not to toot my own horn but the way her major reflects her emotional arc is actually very clever of me if i do say so myself))#2: alexa and jaimey are half siblings through their dad and there will in fact be more Jaimey/Juno development than ive ever done before #((i have a lot of thoughts about their relationship and how it would grow and develop over time so. lowkey Jaimey redemption arc))#3: alexa obviously nails this interview and she hangs out on campus for a lil while afterwards to take pictures #((3.5: she does end up going into the coffee shop and there is in fact a Very Cute Barista and she gets Nervous))#4: the little interjections are things that have been said to Alexa somewhat recently but not all by the same person #thats about it i think anything else would be spoiler-y #n e way i cant wait to loredump all my new thoughts on yall im so sorry in advance for all the notifications you're about to get #im workin on some AU stuff too but lately ive been wanting to write about Normal Kids doing Normal Kid Things so here we are #i hope you enjoyed #movie house #alejandra ochoa #alexa darmond #my writing #shut up phoenix

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pies-writes-and-more · 3 years

Text

ex-boyfriends are a pain

Warnings: ex boyfriend being a dick, referred to as Asshole, some swearing

Pairings: Sugawara Kōshi, Ushijima Wakatoshi, & Bokuto Kōtarō all with a Fem!Reader

A/N: this was originally written for @thisnoodlewritesao3 because ex-boyfriends can suck shit but how much do you wanna bet that the Haikyuu boys would have your back no matter what? Kinda threw this together so I hope you guys enjoy!

haikyuu masterlist

Sugawara knew you could fight like the rest of them. Hell, it was the first time you fought with Tanaka that made him go wow okay I need to hang out with Y/N more.

You could be so feisty when you wanted, so sweet other times. It all depended on your mood. So when he saw your ex-boyfriend walking your way, Sugawara watched your body language first. Did you seem like you wanted to deal with this on your own? Or did you want some help? He never wanted you to feel like he wouldn’t let you fight your own battles, though this was a little harder knowing that this Asshole had hurt you for so long.

Sugawara wanted nothing more than to make the guy hurt like he had hurt you... but no, he restrained himself for a moment, Daichi also watching as if ready to back up his best friend if he got himself into a scuffle.

Maybe if Asshole hadn’t caught you off guard and in the middle of your thoughts, you would’ve been fine, but instead he had grabbed you and dragged you off to some secluded hallway.

“The hell are you doing?” You glared at him, trying to wiggle your arm from him. Your eyes frantically searching for anyone or anything to help get you out of this situation as he pulled you away.

“We need to talk,” Asshole huffed, standing a little too close for comfort. “You’ve been ignoring my calls and my texts and now what? You’ve blocked me?”

Your insides turned uncomfortably, shifting your weight as you tried to find a way to at least step away from him a bit, “We’re not together anymore, there’s nothing that needs to be said-”

“Y/N! Daichi’s looking for you!” Sugawara’s voice was a welcome surprise. Your eyes shot over to where he was standing, his hands on his hips and a smile on his face that didn’t quite reach his eyes. He knew. You could tell he knew how uneasy you were just because his eyes met yours and his head tilted slightly as if to ask want me to kill him?

“She’s busy,” Asshole grumbled, not even bothering to look up from your eyes at him.

Sugawara didn’t move. For a moment he just stood there with his fake smile on before walking closer and pushing the guy away from you gently, “Hey! You look real familiar,” Sugawara beamed up at him, holding his chin as if in thought. “Have we met before?”

“No?” Asshole just glared at him and then his glare turned to you, “Who the fuck is this? Your new boyfriend?”

“Aha! Boyfriend! You kinda look like that crazy EX-boyfriend that Y/N used to have. Now that was one weird dude. Imagine leaving your girlfriend at some restaurant cause you got caught up with your friends and forgot about your anniversary,” Sugawara’s forced a laugh, flopping his arm around your shoulders playfully. “Thank god you got rid of that guy right?”

Even you had to question whether or not Sugawara was being funny or serious. He definitely knew this guy was that ex-boyfriend... didn’t he?

Asshole just huffed, standing up straighter and puffing out his chest slightly just to exaggerate that he was, in fact, taller than Suga.

“It’s funny. It was after that breakup that the Karasuno High School Volleyball team vowed to never let Y/N get hurt ever again.” Suga’s eyes drifted over to where Asahi was just slightly in view, standing tall as ever.

It would only work since Asshole had no clue who Asahi was, and couldn’t see that the muscle-y third year was almost in a panic attack over the upcoming game. All Asshole saw when he followed Sugawara’s gaze was the scary tall third year that everyone seemed to gossip about at every game. Your ex turned back to Suga, as if thinking that would be any better.

From the half of Suga’s face that you could see, it was really not something you’d want to be in front of. Suga could get really scary if he wanted and you imagined that right now, Asshole was experiencing just that.

Your ex grumbled something about “not being worth it” and turned on his heel, rushing away from you two.

You felt a breath leave your chest almost immediately, your heart pounding against your ribcage, “God Suga, thank you so much,” you smiled weakly up at him, quickly wrapping your arms around him and giving him a tight squeeze.

“Anytime love,” he smiled, pressing a quick kiss to the top of your head. “You know, I don’t like to toot my own horn, but I’d say you upgraded big time,” he smirked, tapping your nose lovingly.

You laughed and smiled up at him, touching his cheek gently and stroking your thumb along his skin as you admired his expression, “Absolutely. 100% upgrade. Would never even dream of going back.”

“Good,” Suga grinned, holding your hand against his face for just a moment longer, “cause I’m not letting you leave me that easily.”

Ushijima remembered your ex boyfriend, but not in any physical way. He couldn’t remember what the guy looked like - how tall he was, or what colour his hair was. But what he did remember is how you looked after every argument you had with the guy.

More often than not, you’d come over to Ushijima’s place or Tendō’s after yet another argument, tears streaking down your face and your whole body just crumbling into one of their hugs.

Ushijima had hated seeing you like that and he would hold you for as long as you wanted.

It was after one really bad fight with that guy that Ushijima told himself that he would confess to you eventually. He knew you deserved all the love in the world, and the only way to guarantee you’d be getting it is if he took it into his own hands.

You were far too good for him, but he knew he loved you enough to try.

Maybe he should’ve gone back and looked into what this guy looked like. That probably would’ve helped him in this situation.

“-you think I don’t know that you were trying to steal my girl this whole time?” a guy was yelling, up in Ushijima’s face (as much as you can be in a guy’s face who’s a few inches taller than you). “I should’ve known you two would get together after the way she was constantly talking about you.”

Maybe it should’ve clicked in Ushijima’s head that the guy who was angrily attacking him in the almost empty gym was your ex-boyfriend, but instead, Ushijima kept glancing around him to see if there was someone else that the guy was yelling at.

“What the hell are you looking for? She’s not gonna come save you or anything. I thought you were supposed to be some big man - ace of the volleyball team. What are you scared or something?” your ex cackled, hands on his hips all proud-like.

Ushijima finally caught on that this guy was talking to him, a frown on his face, “I’m sorry but do I know you?”

It hadn’t meant to be a question with any sort of malice to it, but the guy seemed so dejected hearing it. Here he had come all this way, built up all this courage to confront Ushijima Wakatoshi for stealing his girlfriend... and the guy didn’t even know who he was.

“I’m Y/N’s ex boyfriend,” the guy glared up at him, getting angrier.

“Oh.” Ushijima nodded to himself slightly, now remembering the guy’s face and starting to walk past him.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!”

“What’s there to talk about?” Ushijima asked, still walking ahead. “Maybe if you hadn’t been such a self-absorbed egotistical idiot you would still have her. But you don’t. Someone was bound to come and show her what she actually deserves.”

You hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but had just been about to come into the gym to make sure Ushijima was ready to walk home. Your fingers trembled a little hearing your ex’s voice and just how angry he sounded. You were annoyed, you were angry. you wanted to go in there and punch the guy in the face. How dare he act like you were some item to be stolen - you chose Ushijima. You loved Ushijima. There wasn’t anything to steal - you were his and he was yours and there was nothing about your ex in it at all.

But you couldn’t deny that you loved hearing Ushijima’s flat and blunt tone cut through all of your ex’s defenses. He stood there a stuttering mess, coming up with excuses after excuses as to why he hadn’t been a better boyfriend (news flash man, you were just an ass), even while Ushijima started to exit the gym.

“Oh. Y/N. You’re here,” Ushijima’s stoic face broke into a smile as he found you, immediately leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead and taking your hand.

“Have an unexpected visitor?” You point out, glancing into the gym to see your ex getting all riled up some more.

“Nothing worth our time. Come on, let me walk you home,” he said, taking your bag from you like he always did and leading you home.

You knew Ushijijma could’ve cut your ex down to pieces if he needed to, the ace of Shiratorizawa could be very scary when he was angry. But evidently, your ex didn’t seem to be worth the time and the thought of that made you very happy. Ushijima was right after all, that Asshole was not worth either of your free times and he certainly wasn’t worth getting into a fight with.

Still, Ushijima seemed to watch you carefully to make sure you weren’t upset that your ex had come by. He bought you extra snacks at the shop the two of you stopped at on your way home and listened intently to all the things you wanted to talk about while the two of you ventured onwards.

“Thank you, Ushijima,” you smiled at him as you got to your door.

He nodded, “I like walking you home, no thanks needed.”

“No, thank you for... saying what you did to that Asshole back at the gym,” you weren’t really sure what you were thanking him for, but just felt like it needed thanking.

The boy just smiled at you and pressed a kiss to your cheek as he handed you your bag, “You are worth 10 of him, Y/N. I won’t waste my chance with you like he did.”

You beamed hearing this, wrapping him into a hug before disappearing into your house and waving to him from the window.

Later Tendō would point out that he would’ve kicked held the guy up while Ushijima beat the shit out of him, if Ushijima ever wanted that but the ace just shrugged, “The greatest defeat I can do to him is make Y/N happier than he ever could. And I plan on doing that every day for the rest of my life.”

Bokuto loathed your ex boyfriend. He always proclaimed that if he so ever laid eyes on him, he would spike a volleyball into the guy’s face.

Now was his opportunity.

You had been working with the managers of the volleyball team to help set everything up before one of the tournament games, just filling up water bottles and bringing them to the court. You weren’t sure how or why your ex had followed you onto the court but he did.

“Y/N,” he called you from behind you, grabbing onto your wrist to keep you from rushing off.

Your eyes widened as you realized who it was, frowning and pulling your arm away from him almost immediately, “What the hell are you doing here?” You asked with a glare.

“We need to talk - I don’t like this new guy you’re dating. He’s an idiot.” Asshole huffed, shooting a thumb in the direction of Bokuto who was currently getting ready to practice spiking.

“Who I date is none of your business. You should get out of here before he realizes you’re here-” you tried to warn him. Really you did.

There was always a deafening sound whenever one of Bokuto’s blocks hit the floor - the kind that sent shivers down your spine. But hearing it land so close to you, right behind where your ex was standing, made you actually jump, your eyes watching as the ball bounced off and rolled further away down the gym. You and your ex both froze, staring as you watched the ball disappear, a ringing left in the air from the powerful spike.

Both of you turned to see who had almost attacked Asshole, finding Bokuto standing there with his arms crossed against his chest. Even Akaashi was glaring at your ex, chin tilted up in a defiant sort of way.

“Next one,” Bokuto pointed straight at your ex, a firm look in his eyes, “I aim for that ugly mug of yours.”

You could feel your ex tense up, fists balling up angrily at his sides. He opened his mouth to say something, but Akaashi quickly cut him off, “You should leave. Our ace doesn’t get angry often, but when he does, he doesn’t hold back on spiking power. Besides, if you want to talk to our Y/N when she doesn’t want to talk to you, you’ll have to go through all of us.” He motioned to the rest of the team, all of whom were glaring in Asshole’s direction.

You couldn’t help but smile. How lucky were you to have found a family like this - one who were so willing to stop their practice before a game just to make sure you were comfortable.

Asshole soon stormed off and you sent a smirk over to Bokuto who just sent you a grin, “Did you see that crazy spike?” He asked excitedly as you came over to press a kiss to his cheek.

“I did. If that had hit me, I would’ve died,” you teased, poking his chest.

“I would never hit you! I am an expert with aiming!”

“Didn’t you hit her like last week with a stray receive, Bokuto?”

“AKAASHI NOT NOW!”

You laughed, watching as Bokuto frantically waved his arms to his best friend, insisting that that was an accident and he really was very good at aiming.

“Thanks for getting him out of here,” you smiled up at your boyfriend, giving him a tight squeeze before glancing at the ref who was setting up for the game. “I should head up to the stands. You better get all fired up for me okay?”

“Anything for you, babe. I figured actually hitting him would’ve just made him angrier.” He laughed, pecking your lips. “Cheer extra loud for me!” He called after you, jumping up and down to warm up his calves.

“You ready, Bokuto?” Akaashi asked, raising an eyebrow.

Bokuto nodded, grinning to himself as he thought about how perfect that spike was, “I’m all fired up thanks to the prettiest girl in the world. Let’s do this!”

haikyuu taglist (let me know if you’d like to join!)

@al0ehas @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana

#sugawara x reader #ushijima x reader #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #sugawara koushi #ushijima fluff #bokuto kotaro x reader #pies writes

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