#well I spent two hours on this instead of my coding homework | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tsukiihime · 3 years

Text

Heartbreak (Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader)

Hey everyone! This is my first BNHA piece, something I wrote when I was bored and thought what the hey, I’ll post it! Feedback is appreciated!

Word Count: 3.4k

Pairings: Bakugo x Reader, Shinsou x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cyberbulling, swearing, breakup, angst, just kind of a sad piece overall?

Next Chapter

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

When you started dating the Explosion Hero Dynamight, you knew that you were throwing yourself to the wolves. The media is cruel and the fans even crueller - if they deem you unworthy for their Hero then you’re in for a hell of a time - and not in a good way. But you loved Bakugo - you’ve loved him more than you’ve ever loved anyone, and for two years of your life you’ve been by his side as he climbs through the Hero charts.

But recently, the media has been sniffing a little too close to home. Someone has tipped the tabloids off to your existence and ravenous fans have been finding your social media day after day. Your selfies on Instagram are being bombarded with hateful comments on everything ranging from your weight to your skin color to your fashion sense, while your Twitter messages are flooded with paragraph after paragraph full of venom and vitriol. You can no longer take the headlines, the hate, the disgust being dished out at you day and day out. You beg your boyfriend to do something, anything to make the media leave you alone. Which brings you to tonight - in a heated argument with the Hero Dynamight.

“All I’m saying is that if you address the media, if you tell them that I’m your girlfriend, they might back off. I can’t do this anymore Katsuki, I can’t keep waking up and seeing this shit on my feed!” You’re so angry you’re shaking, and it’s pissing you off even more that Bakugo stares at you, unblinking and unfazed, arms crossed in indifference.

“You know I can’t do that. I do that, and my ratings plunge.” Your eyes widen in disbelief as soon as those words leave his mouth, you can’t believe he even said that.

“Are you serious Katsuki? Is beating Deku and becoming the number one hero really worth more to you than us? Than me?” Tears threatened to spill over at any moment, your fists clenching until your nails left tiny red crescents in your skin. You stared at vermilion eyes refusing to back down, waiting with trembling lips for his answer.

“You knew what you were getting into when you started dating me. I don’t know why you need so much fuckin’ reassurance that you’re different from all those other damn extras.” That sentence sends you from angry to fuckin’ pissed in less than a second.

You jab at his chest, practically screaming: “Excuse me? When we started dating, I was promised that you’d protect me from everything, including the media. Do you see the shit they say about me Katsuki? What they say about my body, my family, my upbringing? How they call me a slut and a whore because my Instagram has ‘Toshi on it and now I’ve been spotted with you? I can’t even visit my parents because I’m afraid they’ll follow me. I can’t go and see “Toshi because they’ll shit talk me even more! And you sit there and do nothing. Say nothing. All I want is for you to tell them the truth, that we are dating and that we are a couple.”

Now, it’s Bakugo’s turn to bite back. “And I’m sayin’ my hands are tied. They know I’m with someone, and I lose fans. Which means, I ain’t gonna beat that damn Deku at the rankings next month.”

“Fuck the rankings Bakugo! Can you get your head out of your ass for a second?! How in the world,” you turn to go to grab your phone, pulling up the latest headline about you on the tabloid’s website, “can you let them say this about me? Don’t you at least care that I’m being attacked on the daily?” Tears fall freely from your eyes now, and Bakugo flinches for a second, but only a second. You laugh in anger, turning away from him. “I already know the answer, Katsuki. You care more about the rankings than me. I’m in the way of your dream if you say I’m with you, so let me remove myself from the equation.” You grab a jacket, an umbrella and your phone, and put on your shoes. “It’s over Katsuki. I’m done. If you won’t say that we’re together, then we shouldn’t be together.”

You turn to leave, and a part of you hopes that he’ll follow - that he’ll grab you and hold you tight and tell you that he loves you, loves you more than the stupid rankings and that he’ll stand by you no matter what the media says.

But he doesn’t.

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

You walk a couple of blocks to another apartment building, ring the doorbell and wait for the response to come from the other side. A deep voice responds, belonging to someone who had obviously been sleeping. “Who the hell is it?”

“‘Toshi, it’s me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? It’s raining idiot, get in here.” The doors unlock and you make your way inside. You know this building like the back of your hand, it’s the home of your best friend and your second home. You make your way to his apartment and he’s waiting for you in the hallway - purple hair tousled and messy, body heavy with sleep and dark undereye circles accentuating violet eyes as he scratches the back of his neck. It’s a tic of his, one you know well - he’s nervous.

“A fight huh?”

“Worse. I broke it off.” Shinsou immediately tenses at the mention of this, and if you weren’t so pissed and hurt by Bakugo you would’ve laughed.

“Shit...I’m sorry. Come in, tell me all about it.” He steps aside and lets you into his apartment, closing the door as he prepares himself to listen to you complain until the sun rises. He agrees to help you get your things when you’re ready to return, and says you can crash at his place until you find somewhere else to stay.

You return two days later, punching in the code to the apartment you and Bakugo share - well, you supposed shared was the better word. It felt so foreign, being here after everything. Memories of the last two years flooded into your mind - lazy days where you spent all day with Katsuki on the couch doing nothing but watching horrible horror flicks and laughing the night away, those early mornings that had you waking up at five o’clock in the morning to cook pancakes while the sleepy blonde wraps his arms around your waist while teasing your culinary skills. Even the late nights when schoolwork kept you awake well into the twilight hours and your exhausted body dragged itself to the bed you and he shared, breathing in the caramel scent of the man you loved as your head hits the plush pillows and you drift off to sleep. But now, all of those memories have disappeared into the wind, replaced with the fight you and Bakugo had before you had stormed out of the house that night. He’s been texting you like mad, calling you like there is no tomorrow, but you ignore his calls. He never leaves a voicemail, so you don’t know what’s on his mind.

As the beige door swung open, you breathed a sigh of relief that Katsuki wasn’t home. You had neither the heart nor the energy to see him after all that had happened and instead resolved yourself to get all of your things before his shift ended at his agency. You spent the next hour rounding up everything you owned - books, pictures, everything that you had room to take and that you knew you wouldn’t miss if you left it behind. When you had a breather you sent a quick text to Shinsou to let him know you were almost ready to go - and took a deep breath as you entered your bedroom. No, your former bedroom now. “That’s all it is now.” you remind yourself.

You start dumping all your clothes into trash bags and gather up pictures and toiletries that belong to you as you clean up the bedroom from one end to the other. As you grab a pile and place it on the bed, an article of clothing falls that you don’t recognize. You bend over and pick it up to inspect it closer.

You know your clothes, all of them. But this lacy lingerie set that is discarded on the floor isn’t yours, hell, it isn’t even your size. Your throat feels like sandpaper and your nose crinkles as you drop the clothes as if burned by a flame. You can’t help but stare at it as a million things run through your mind at once: whose is it? How long has it been here? Was this before or after you and Katsuki broke up? Did he already move on? The last thought is something you know you shouldn’t dwell on, it isn’t your business what he does after you’re the one that ended the relationship. You know this and yet the tears come anyways, endless and stinging without end. Your legs give out and you fall to your knees clutching your heart as sobs fall from your lips, as your emotions bounce all over the place. The molten hot anger you felt at first is now transforming into deep sadness, all the bittersweet memories racing through your mind now replaced by images of Katsuki holding another woman, another lover just like he held you. You can’t stop as your brain formulates these what if situations - what if he was waiting for you to end it so he could be with her? You start to imagine him kissing another with the same passion he held for you. You see another in your place, eating the food that he insists on making to spoil you after a long night of homework, running their fingers through his hair as he falls asleep on their lap, and seeing another wrapped in his arms as they fall asleep together under the moonlit sky.

“I can’t stay here” you whisper to yourself, desperate to stop the tears that won’t end - desperate to feel anything but this pit of agony. You’ll take numbness over this endless heartbreak, this disappointment, this feeling of self-deprecation that tells you over and over that you weren’t good enough. “I-”

The door opens and you hear Shinsou’s voice behind you, calling your name and making his way through the hallway at the front of the apartment. “You didn’t answer my texts so I came up to check on you and-” The purple haired man freezes when he sees you, sitting on the floor with your head in your hands, sobbing uncontrollably as a waterfall of tears spill from your eyes dripping onto your fingers. You can no longer hold back your sobs as everything comes to a head - your insecurities, the hateful comments left on your social media, Katsuki’s own dismissal of your feelings as you two fought that night two days ago. Shinsou immediately drops to his knees in front of you, wrapping his arms around your frame and holding you close. “It’s okay...let it out.” You peer up at him from tear filled eyes, lunging at him to wrap your arms around his neck as you bury your face in his chest.

“Hitoshi…” is all you’re able to say before another sob wracks your body, tears staining your cheeks and dampening Shinsou’s hoodie. You try desperately to explain why you’re crying, and why you’re so upset but you can’t find the words as your tongue feels heavy like a bunch of bricks. Indigo eyes drift to the underwear discarded behind you, anger seething in his veins as he puts two and two together.

“Bakugo, you fucking tool.” He thinks to himself as he holds you, letting you cry out what you can’t tell him but he knows. He knows you better than anyone, just as you know him better than anyone. He remembers the vibrant little girl he met on the playground all those years ago, who spoke to him without a care even with his “villainous” quirk. He remembers your ecstatic scream as he calls you to let you know that he was able to get into the Hero Course at U.A, and he remembers you celebrating his acceptance at getting into a Hero Agency by getting blackout drunk and waking up with you in snuggled in his arms as you wear his favorite hoodie. He remembers being the one to introduce you to Bakugo at a Hero Ranking after party when you accompanied him as his plus one. He remembers how breathtaking you looked that night - an obsidian dress that hugged your figure closely, long legs accentuated by black stilettos and your plush lips painted in a ruby red hue. He remembers being the man of the hour, the hero Mindjack accompanied by a beauty on his arm, the envy of the venue. He remembers dancing with you, his most beloved childhood friend, his most precious person. He remembers watching you stride to the bar, smiling as you greet the bartender with glee and and he remembers watching you bump into Bakugo as you apologize quickly to the blonde before making your way back to him. He also remembers Bakugo following you to him, prompting him to introduce you to the man who would eventually become your boyfriend.

“If only you hadn’t bumped into him that night”, Shinsou thinks to himself, “Katsuki Bakugo, I’m going to give you a piece of my mind when I see you next.” How helpless he feels watching you cry as your heart shatters into a million pieces, how powerless he feels as he holds you tighter than he’s ever held anyone before. “C’mon, let’s get you home. I’ll take what I can and I’ll get the rest another day.” he smiles as he looks at you, giving you a small grin that he hopes makes you feel a bit better. “Don’t worry, I grabbed your Switch and your laptop, so the lazy girl hours can still happen” you punch him in the shoulder playfully as you wipe tears away on your sleeve, pouting as you roll your eyes at his lazy jokes before he continues, “and I’ll send Bakugo a text on what’s happening. You won’t have to deal with him. I promise.” It doesn’t escape his notice how you tense up when he says Bakugo, but the small smile you give at his joke makes him feel just a bit better. You stand up and press your lips to his forehead, tippy toeing to reach. “Thanks ‘Toshi. I really appreciate it, truly.”

“Anything for my Animal Crossing buddy.” You cross your arms and give him a questioning look, eliciting a chuckle from the taller male. “I’m jus’ kiddin’. You know I’d do anything for you. And your Switch.” You laugh as you turn to grab your boxes and make your way to the front of the apartment, the lingerie that had shattered your world moments ago momentarily forgotten in the corner of you and Bakugo’s bedroom. “It’s only Bakugo’s now” you remind yourself as you walk out into the living room, “this place belongs to Bakugo only.” You take one last look at your home for the last ten months, and quickly turn on your heels to make your way to the elevator with your entire life packed into a few boxes. A small sense of regret lingers in you, but you quickly shove that aside to stop yourself from crying some more. Shinsou grabs the rest of the boxes left on the table, and places your key to the apartment on the counter next to a picture frame with the glass faced down. He then turns and follows you out the door to his car.

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

The next few nights are the hardest - Shinsou’s apartment only has one bedroom, one bathroom and the living room which means you’re on the couch until you find your own place. You’ve known Shinsou since childhood and you wouldn’t mind sharing a bed but you’re so distraught from your discovery in Bakugo’s room that you want to be alone to cry it out if you need to - you already feel like a burden to Shinsou despite his protests against the idea. He’s not home tonight - on patrol around the city as you sit in the living room wrapped in a blanket and wearing his favorite hoodie. You flip through the channels and stumble across the Hero Rankings red carpet. It’s been ages since Hitoshi attended one, becoming more of an “underground hero” and avoiding the spotlight if possible. In fact, the only time he attended one was with you around the time you met Bakugo. You cringe at the thought of him, trying quickly to remove him from your mind. The rational part of your mind wants to change the channel, to watch those documentaries you love so much and wait until Shinsou gets back home but you don’t. Instead, you decide to remain on this channel, watching as heroes come and go on the red carpet with their dates and hear the host gush about each one’s accomplishments. This is torture, you know Bakugo will appear since he’s the number four Hero, you know he’ll be there and yet like a train wreck, you can’t look away. Maybe you’re curious as to what he’s up to, or maybe you want to see if he looks as miserable as you know you do. In any case, you wait with baited breath to see a pair of scarlet eyes and ash blonde hair to satiate your curiosity. A flash of green catches your attention and you see Izuku Midoriya appear on screen in front of you. Deku is the number three Hero and on his arm is his girlfriend Uraraka, another Hero ranked at number seven. You’ve met the both of them at parties you attend with Bakugo - they both received a lot of hate from “fans'' when they announced they were dating, but the love they exuded for each other made the media change their tune really fast. They truly adored one another and didn’t care if their ratings took a dive. You had wished Bakugo would do that for you, but you weren’t a Hero and you didn’t have an impressive quirk, so his agency decided that it would be better for his ratings if he kept you a secret and he agreed. At first, you didn’t mind but the comments on social media and the tabloids made you feel as if he wasn’t yours at all - instead all you felt was that he was ashamed of you.

Then you see him. You grip the remote so hard it almost hurts, but you keep on looking anyway. There stands the number four Hero Katsuki Bakugo, wearing a red and black suit and looking as he always does - confident to the point of arrogance, a grumpy face that makes him unapproachable, arms crossed in annoyance. The cameras go off flash after flash, and the announcer goes over his stats - how many people he’s saved, his amount of solved cases, so on and so forth. You smile at his ranking, he’s gone from eleven to four in such a short amount of time, and you know he has his determination to thank for that. He works hard, that you can’t deny.

Then you see her. You recognize her, from the tabloids and the makeup commercials. The Illusion Hero, Maboromicamie. She’s tall, beautiful, and has a gorgeous figure as well as a comfy place ranked as the number ten Hero. Her arm is linked with Bakugo’s, and he has an arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her close for the photoshoot. The announcer raises their voice in excitement, as a headline appears on your TV: “Dynamight and Maboromicamie an item? Seen together getting close at the awards ceremony!”

You shut off the TV and close your eyes. What were you expecting? Why did you do that? You can’t help the tears that escape, but they do. There you sit, alone in the apartment with the image of those two stuck in your head, burned into your memory. When Shinsou gets home, he says nothing and you’re grateful for it - you know he’s seen the ceremony and he knows you well enough to know that you’ve seen it too. Instead, he showers, lays down next to you, and holds you close as you cry quietly into his arms.

#bnha #bnha x fem!reader #shinsou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha x you #hitoshi shinso x y/n #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bnha angst #mha x reader #my writing

189 notes · View notes

hepaidattention · 3 years

Text

denial

part 2

where Allison never died in s3 and Lydia and Stiles are still going strong in the flirting game but still stubborn, so Allison decides to set them up (with Scott’s help of course).

part 1 can be found here

Scott would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised to see Allison's name pop up on his phone screen as he played video games in his room. The names to pop up are usually Stiles and his mom. Seeing Lydia's name was a little more normal - he even got one from her earlier, telling him that Stiles was in the works of a terribly stupid plan and he needed to distract him from it. Hence the video games they were now playing together. Isaac was a little more regular, Isaac just wasn’t much of a texter. Point is, there were a lot of people in his life that he would expect to be texting him at 7 o’clock on a Tuesday night. However, Allison was not one he would expect.

There was a time in his life where Allison was the most common name to pop up. But now, now she was with Isaac and things have been especially weird and tense since her almost dying thing. She said a few things, they both said a few things that might have made things even more awkward now than ever. It was by a miracle that Scott was able to even heal her enough to get her to a hospital in time. Even Scott thought they had lost her forever that night.

Isaac was there in his room too, defeating Stiles in the game with a triumphant grin on his face. Stiles just looked like this gave him even more reason to hate him. Now that Isaac and Allison were officially dating, Stiles claims that Isaac broke some kind of bro code and he shouldn't be allowed over his threshold. Scott doesn't care though; Isaac's his friend. Besides the guy lived here most of the time, where else would he go?

Stiles, his attention now split, of course noticed Scott's uneasiness. Probably because he died a while ago and has shown zero interest in rejoining. Stiles was now frantically glancing from the game to zombie-like Scott, trying to catch his eye. It wasn't until his half baked attention span made him lose (Isaac cheering over his success) that Stiles turned to Scott and asked, "You okay there buddy?"

"Yeah, yeah," Scott locked his phone screen. He couldn't make himself open the text. He was sure it was probably something small, like 'hey do you have the history homework for tomorrow', but there was too much pressure for him to open it right now. He couldn't do it with two pairs of peering eyes now watching him. "Sorry, just started thinking. Got a little distracted. How about another round?"

"I'm down." Isaac tried to sound cool, but he sounded more enthusiastic about it then anything. With his permanently smug expression, he weaved his hands behind his head and leaned back, as if winning this game was a walk in the park.

"Of course you are Lahey," Stiles glared at him, his temper boiling when Isaac even breathed loudly. "Hey, why don't you do Scotty boy here a favor and go get him some water. He looks parched."

The weirdest thing about Isaac is now that he stole his alpha’s/friend’s ex-girlfriend, he did everything for Scott. Scott hated it. Stiles? Well he thoroughly enjoyed it.

Isaac shrugged. "Yeah, okay, I could use a drink." He got up and walked out, not even questioning it.

Scott waited until he left to say, "I'm not even-"

"Not all of us have a servant to wait at us hands and feet, okay now Scotty? Some of us, when thirsty, have to stretch a little truth to get even the simplest of things." He leaned back into the beanie bag and sighed. "Now what did Allison say?"

Scott's eyes widened and he looked behind them in case of Isaac before hissing, "How did you know she-?"

"You've been staring at her name on your screen for the past 10 minutes there, buddy. You're not exactly stealthy about it."

Scott smirked back at him and winced, it was this look that he gave Stiles a lot. Stiles knew it as ‘yeah okay well you don’t know everything thank you very much smartass’, but that was just general speculation. Nothing was set in stone. Scott looked back down at his phone fearfully as he said, "Like you can talk. You've spent all day staring at the clock, counting down the hours until you can go faun over Lydia Martin as she bosses you around again."

Stiles gave Scott that distinct look in return, this time it said 'you can't turn this around on me'. "Yeah, okay, whatever - I see what you’re doing. And I don't know what you’re talking about - I'm not seeing Lydia later."

Scott arched a brow, "That's not what Lydia said."

Stiles clearly wanted to ask what Lydia did say, but he was too smart for the bait. Scott knew it seemed to easy. Instead Stiles said, "So what you’re saying is you haven't even opened the text then?"

Scott puddled into the floor in shame, "Nope."

"C'mon man, she's probably just checking up, right? I mean, you've been really weird around her lately. Like borderline schizoid weird. Maybe she's just trying to clear some air so you'll stop dodging her every time you see her in the halls."

Scott frowned, "Have I really been that weird?"

"Scott," Stiles blinked, his face fallen, "yesterday she asked you for a pencil in class and you stared at her for five whole minutes before you gave her like ten. Then when she said she only needed one, you didn’t respond but instead you gave her like ten more."

"She loses her pencils a lot," Scott defended, "it was for later."

Before they could finish their conversation Isaac reappeared with the water. He handed it to Scott, which Stiles then took from his hands before he could even think about drinking it and took a long sip. Isaac flopped back into the beanie bag when Stiles said, "Hey, Scotty here's stomach is growling. You should go make your true alpha a sandwich, Lahey."

Isaac started to stand.

"Isaac, no stop -" Scott shot a glare at Stiles, clearly annoyed with his antics. "I don't need a sandwich, I'm fine."

"Okay," Isaac shrugged, "I'm gonna go make one for me then. I’ll make extra just in case." He walked out and Scott gave Stiles his 'I'm a disappointed mom' look.

"What? He’s hungry too, he said it himself.” Scott’s face didn’t change. Stiles sighed, “C’mon - Scott, he's like a puppy. He will willingly do anything the fuck I want for you and he doesn't even think twice. You could ask him to jump off a bridge for you and he'd probably do it."

"And that's definitely not something we're going to test." Scott gave him a warning glare before leaning back in his seat and looking back at his phone screen. "He just feels bad about Allison and he shouldn't, I don't have some kind of claim over her. We've been broken up for a while now."

"If it doesn't bother you so much, then why don't you just open the text from Allison?"

Stiles was attempting to make Scott admit something, but he actually had a really good point. Him and Allison were over, no matter what they might have said to each other that night. He needed to toughen up and read the text.

"You know what? You're right, Stiles." Scott unlocked his phone and clicked on the message in one swift motion.

"That's not something I hear very often." Stiles watched, trying to read the text over Scott's shoulder. "What does it say? Was I right? Does she need to return to you all the unneeded pencils now?"

To Scott's surprise, it was about Stiles himself. Stiles and Lydia, to be more precise. Scott locked the screen again, just in time before Stiles got a glance at it. He just shrugged it off and said, "She just has question about history homework. I'll answer it later."

Stiles knew he was lying. Scott could tell by the look in his eyes, he didn't believe a word he just said. "Yeah alright, sound like believable bullshit at least." He deadpanned. "Not any chance you're going to actually tell me what she said, is there?"

"It's just about homework Stiles, that's it."

Stiles sighed and pulled out his phone now, his eyes on the time again. "I knew it. She wants to return the pencils. No normal human being needs that many pencils. Why do you even have that many pencils?"

"I always come to school prepared." Scott was reading the text again, now that Stiles was occupied with his own phone.

Stiles raised a brow, the corner of his lips sliding up to the side. "You know, just in case you break all twenty pencils with your werewolf super strength before lunch?"

“Ha ha,” Scott said with heavy sarcasm, probably something he learned from Stiles himself.

The text said, "I need your help. Stiles and Lydia, as we both know, are in denial about being completely in love. We have to do something or I'm going to lose my shit. Meet me tomorrow morning at my locker. DON'T bring Stiles."

Scott was grinning to himself, something he wasn't aware of until Isaac with a mouthful of sandwich said, "What's got you so giddy?" He entered the room and dropped a plate of sandwiches at the floor in front of all of them. "You look like someone sent you that video of that dog who helps people cross the street again."

Stiles was now suspicious, looking away from his evident Lydia texting so he could check over Scott’s shoulder again to see the screen. Lucky for Scott his phone was back to being locked. Both boys were looking at him like he was up to something and he needed to change the subject. He decided on casually smiling as he picked up his remote control and said, "Who's ready to get their butts whooped?"

Stiles, taking a big bite out of his sandwich said, "Let's hope that answer is you."

As Scott royally got his butt handed to him in the video game, he looked down to see another text from Allison. When Stiles wasn’t looking he opened it, glancing down in between rounds to see it say: Take it back. Tonight. 9pm. Pick me up.

Scott had to keep his heart from racing the rest of the night.

read part 3 here

#teen wolf fanfiction #Stydia fic #Stydia au #allison argent is alive fic #issacs still around too #this is a series of them #i just write it when i get the next idea so lol bear with me #I have a plot but not any details yet #I know how its gonna end tho don't you worry #denial stydia series #next is gonna be allison and scott basically stalking stydia as they walk around the forest and flirt/talk about trauma #stydia #my stydia fics

24 notes · View notes

emersonfreepress · 3 years

Note

okay so is there content that you had planned for the ROs and story in general but then scrapped cause there wasn’t a good place in the story to stick it in? and if so, can you share what it was? 👀 👀 👀

yes, definitely. *rubs hands together* oh man, you done asked THE question today xD I can't wait to get into this 😁

Academics. I almost decided to have classes and grades be a minor part of gameplay, but the more time I spent designing it the more I realized I wanted nothing to do with it 😂 I haven’t really enjoyed academic gameplay in other interactive fiction because I 1) hate having to choose between studying and interacting with awesome characters, 2) have terrible short term memory, and 3) hate school in general!! So instead I just opted to have the MC be really good at school, point blank period so I could focus on social drama and relationships instead! 😆

Physical skills. I spent literal months crafting the catering scene around setting up stats for stamina/endurance, dexterity, and strength instead of just magnetism, confidence, and persuasion. They had their own backstories with the MC’s parents being overly invested sports parents instead and I think the background choices were like... martial arts, gymnastics, and track? But yeah, I ended up scrapping it all because I was spending hours on research about those individual sports so I could integrate them into the MC’s narrative organically but like... when I tried to think of what use they would be in the actual story, I came up blank. Best decision yet, esp since it means a lot less coding!

Skin tone customization. For one, I noticed that a lot of my favorite IFs don’t offer that customization and it hasn’t impacted my experience at all. For two, I originally realized I might as well not implement it since I am striving real hard not to introduce any customization that won’t actually be mentioned in interesting or meaningful ways in-story. I don’t think it’s really all that common for real life friends (esp in high school?) to comment or compliment each other’s skin and like... when it comes from someone who doesn’t share a similar complexion or ethnic background, that type of commentary gets... d i c e y. So then I wanted to be sensitive to that but what’s the pay-off? An RO mentioning how they love your skin tone once? Awkward sentences with the MC referring to their own skin color? Idk, just wasn’t vibing with it. I’m open to revisiting it in beta or something but for now it’s scrapped.

Singing, Rapping, and Gaming as Hobbies/Talents. I feel bad about scrapping these, honestly 😂 They’re great and I really wanted to incorporate them but it just came down to already having a lot of stuff to code. Plus, I know I can write the Hobbies/Talents I stuck with far better. And for Book 2 purposes, as well!

Leo. as @sourandflightypeaches asked me about a long while ago, I had to scrap an entire RO 😢 His name is Leo, he was the nephew of wealthy west African diplomats residing in Emerson, and I love him dearly! His backstory was largely based on my mother’s childhood and the circumstances she lived through after immigrating to America. and... ok, i’m about to go on one hell of a tangent so buckle up and bear with me if you can 😅

my intention with this story, aside from writing things that I personally enjoy (graphic violence, spooky woods, social drama, romance, conspiracies 😚), is to explore greed, wealth, and how the ways people and families interact with those two things influence young people and who they grow up to be. here i go sounding pretentious af 😝 and here’s where I apply a cut for those who want to preserve a little mystery to the main characters!

With Gabe, we’ve got someone who grew up with very little stability or financial security but who has found unscrupulous methods to gain status and money, with both noble and selfish motivations.

Kile has some of that childhood experience in common with Gabe, having been in the foster care system since infancy, but they lucked out when they were adopted into massive wealth by a caring, loving couple—a couple that uses their wealth and privilege to be far more lenient and protective of Kile than is actually reasonable or responsible.

Jack comes from a prestigious wealthy family on his dad’s side who he loves dearly but there’s no getting around the fact that they love him back as much as they despise his working class mom.

Jessie is a spoiled sweet heiress (being the baby of her family and the only girl) and while she lives blissfully ignorant of the harmful source and impact of her father's income and career, she bears the weight of the expectation to fulfill very traditional gender roles, including her behavior and appearance, but also extending to her career and life plans.

Rain's wealth led to them growing up sheltered and isolated but also extremely accommodated, giving them maximum freedom and opportunity to discover and develop their personal talents and interests. However, they have almost no positive relationship with their parents who have essentially decided to give up on a kid that couldn't be exactly the accessory they tried to mold them to be—both in terms of their identity and personality.

Rupan/Rohan, at their very core, rejects everything about conformity, self-importance, and excessive luxury—which means they have never, ever truly fit in with their peers. Going full non-conformist, however, has resulted in them becoming alienated from much of their family, as well, despite them all loving each other very much. Their history with false friends and betrayals has led them to over-indulge in their vices and reckless behavior to compensate for that isolation. Sometimes, they just get in over their head and many times, they know better. Every time, it's just that the feeling of finally belonging is utterly intoxicating.

Vivian/Vincent has two extremely successful parents who didn't inherit but instead built up their wealth and they aspire to be just like them, to a degree that is well and truly unhealthy. Their mother specifically is an over-achiever and applies mountainous pressure for them to follow in her footsteps, especially academically. Vi is completely capable of achieving what their mom expects of them, but they were already an extremely sensitive perfectionist so this has made them intensely critical of themself. This is a large part of why they are such a rigid, no-nonsense person and that in turn has made them one of the most disliked people among their peers—which is a huge personal failure to them since their father is a very well-liked and socially successful person in town.

And the Emersons are peak privilege: inherent high social status, brains, looks, charisma, athleticism, and massive wealth. They could never have been anything less than extremely popular, just by virtue of their last name and the nature of the town's social dynamics and politics. And they do enjoy that privilege (esp Curt lol). However, it should go without saying that being so high profile, even (or maybe especially) just in the isolated scope of your hometown, isn't always a boon. Their family's and their own perceived failings are widely discussed and privately mocked and/or celebrated. Real friends are scarce while fake ones and snakes are plentiful. Plus their dad is a gigantic dickhead who sees his kids as extensions of his own status and reputation and not much else. Public shortcomings make for an unbearable time at home and the world outside the estate is at once overly accommodating, full of assumptions, and even subtly hostile at times—all unrelated to their own actions or character.

And with the MC, I think the narrative will make it clear there are several ways that story can go. You start off with irresponsible parents that have lost their wealth due to their own mismanagement and material ambitions—how that affects any individual MC should differ based on choices and consequences!

So why bring any of that up when I was supposed to be talking about my cut OC? 😂😂

Leo was going to be the unwelcome recent addition to his uncle’s household, the son of a brother his aunt hates for (petty af) Reasons, and she took that resentment out on him directly by restricting his access to nearly every aspect of the family's wealth. Especially material goods and living conditions. He was basically treated like the help, tasked with playing nanny for his many younger cousins and burdened with doing the homework and providing academic cover for his dumb as rocks cousin in the same grade as you all. To sum it up, he was basically a victim of trafficking at the hands of his own family with his uncle out of town enough to feign ignorance to how bad his wife was treating his nephew and his aunt going out of her way to keep him busy, at home, and isolated. This is sadly a super common form of trafficking in Francophone African cultures (although I don't think most people view it as trafficking. and I’m sure the same is true of other cultures but I don’t want to speak outside of my purview). And like I mentioned above, it’s how my own mom's (and idek how many cousins') child/teenhood went.

It’s a perspective on modern wealth, privilege and greed that I really, really wanted to tell. I am confident in saying it hasn't been explored in interactive fiction yet (though correct me—and direct me 👀—if I'm wrong) and out of all the wealth/greed explorations I came up with, it's the one I have the closest personal ties to and the strongest feelings about. The characters and plans I had for it were detailed and I'm proud of them but at the end of the day... I just couldn't find a place for Leo in the story at large.

Leo was, in fact, the last main character I came up with, when I had already designed and fleshed out the larger story and started crafting the timeline of major events. I think the worst thing I could have done for a story and perspective that I care about this much is shove it into a plot that didn't have room for it at the very base level, regardless of how well the character or his story is written. Shoe-horned characters always stick out. I didn’t want to disservice Leo by having him be the character that did nothing or could be removed from the main plot without affecting it at all, y’know? That’s so much worse than just forgoing the indulgence, imo :((

ugh.... Leooooo 😭 I'm so sorry bb, I failed youuu 😥

#lovely anon #answered #hotmess #ok I am truly so sorry for going on and on like this #writing #ch design #ty for this question it was really nice to revisit this stuff 😃#and a nice reminder to not look back lol #scrapped

41 notes · View notes

annepikachu · 3 years

Text

MORSE CODE AND CHICKEN DRUMSTICKS (EXO Xiumin × Reader)

(FANFIC)

- Anne (Pikachu)

Note: Reader= Yn (Your name) (female)

13 chapters. Fluff. Lots of beautiful smiles.

(Also, there’s a small reference to Taylor Swift's lyrics because I love her.)

Happy reading!

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Yn sighed and plopped down on the seat in her favorite corner of the library. She has a painful assignment to complete. Yes painful because she has been procrastinating until the day before she has to hand over the assignment.

“Humm, lately this library has been bustling with so many visitors”, she observed. “What’s up? Are they giving out chicken drumsticks for free?” Her eyes wandered around trying to figure out the reason. “Aah, that must be it" as her gaze stopped and hovered over the librarian’s desk. There’s this unrealistically cute guy who joined the post of the librarian a few days back. His predecessor had retired. And since then the library is mostly housefull. “Okay Yn stop staring at him as if you’re looking at a pizza. You look like a creep right now. Do your homework”, she mentally slapped herself and put on her headphones, opened her favorite Playlist and focused on her assignment.

Kim Minseok was surprised at the drastic change in the number of visitors in the library since the third day of his joining. He had heard from his predecessor about the library being usually empty. He was actually relieved by this fact. He was happy to see that a puppy eyed guy and a Yoda eared guy who seem to be a couple, a guy who always wears a bear hoodie and sometimes accompanied by two toddlers, a pair of cute granny and grandpa, and a clumsy handsome young lady are the only daily visitors. But it seems that his relief was short-lived.

The library has turned into Dalian Beach these days. The girls come with the pretext of reading books here but end up gushing about how handsome he is. One of them didn’t even realize that she was ‘reading’ her book upside down and yet another straightaway came up and put a can of coke on his desk. But these don’t bother him much because he is used to the flood of compliments coming from people irrespective of gender and age. Thankfully the library gets quite empty an hour before closing.

“Oh that handsome girl is still writing. She must have a huge assignment. She usually reads some interesting books at this time of day”, he kept looking at her. “Later on I should suggest her some of my favorites as well". He resumed his work but was soon distracted by the sound of a continuous tapping. His eyes narrowed.

Yn was frustrated by the last portion of her assignment and soon found herself tapping her fingers to the beat of the music playing in her headphones. “Screw it, I give up.” She paused. “Oh well I’ll just do the rest after having my supper. Don’t wanna upset Professor Junmyeon.” She slammed shut her notebook and was startled to find the cute librarian standing right in front of her.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

“Umm sorry for startling you, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Yes?” Yn was confused. What could this cute guy possibly want to know?

“Did you miss your lunch? Or are you craving for chicken drumsticks just for the sake of chicken drumsticks?”

“Huh?”

“I mean I heard you saying ‘chicken drumsticks’ over and over just now, tapping, to be precise”

“I did not. Well I had thought about it a few hours ago but not now. What makes you think so?”

“Those tapping sounds you made just now. They kinda translated into ‘chicken drumsticks’ though.”

“Really? Are you talking about Morse code?” Yn replayed that portion of the song and tapped consciously, noting down the codes while Minseok looked at her with amusement. “Holy Guacamole!” She sprang up. “You are right. Wow this is amazing!”

“So you were just tapping to the beat that turned out to be saying chicken drumsticks?”

The next moment they collapsed on the floor laughing at this curious conversation.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

III

Yn couldn’t spare time to go to the library for a week but finally she was back on her usual routine. She waved back at Minseok and broke into a giggle as she remembered the conversation about ‘chicken drumsticks’. After sometime she got up to search for another book and almost bumped into Minseok, shrieked and fell on her butt. She got back on her feet, “Whoa, you really do have a knack for scaring off people”.

“My bad. It was you who bolted in here though.” His pout made Yn's heart go UwU. “Anyway which book are you searching for?...This? Okay. Here you go"

Just as she turned and started walking back to her desk, Minseok suddenly asked “By the way Yn, you didn’t ask me my name yet".

“Oh right.” She proceeded towards him. “What is your name Mr Minseok Kim a.k.a Xiumin?”

“H-How did you know my name? Even Xiumin?” He stuttered.

“Doesn’t everyone in the college? You’re probably the only librarian who has a fan-page dedicated to him.” She chuckled in amusement.

“Wow, I had no idea", he whispered.

“They post your pictures from shooting range so I guess those are already pretty much on public domain. But you can check if they have posted any private picture of yours and maybe hit report", she suggested. “Anyway I’ll borrow this book for a week.”

“Huh? Oh right. I’ll issue it right away.” He was dazed from the information overload.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

“Earth to Minseok. What are you thinking about? And what’s with the occasional smile too? Did you inhale Nitrous Oxide?” Sehun asked puckering his brows.

“Uh just two weird conversations I had with a girl. By the way, do you know I apparently have a fan-page dedicated to me?”

“Really?” It was evident that Sehun was feeling nervous for some reason.

“It seems you know something about this. C’mon spill.” Minseok insisted.

“Err well it was I who created the fan-page. Because you’re undeniably the coolest one here in the range. I even added the tagline ‘that’s right, my type’!"

“You little rascal!” He flicked Sehun's forehead. “I had the shock of my life when I came to know about this!”

“But Xiu, who’s the girl you were talking about?” Sehun had a mischievous glint in his eye. “Is that why you were smiling just now? Tell me more about it!”

“Dude it’s not what you think! She is a regular visitor in the library and we had just two conversations. I was surprised that she knew my arcade name Xiumin. And it was she who told me about the fan-page.”

“You have a crush oh her, don’t you? How is she like? Did you ask her out?”

“Relax Hun. We just talked about Morse code.”

“Ugh that’s such a turn off.”

“But she’s quite interesting. She’s handsome yes. And cute too.”

“I knew it! You’re whipped for her! Ask her out.”

“Calm down Hun. I’m not sure about how I feel and I don’t even know if she has a lover. Or if she is at all interested in me.”

“Don’t you underestimate your charm Xiu. And she isn’t interested in you? You get so many love letters, did you forget that? She might be charmed by your smile but probably doesn’t show it. She has a set boundary maybe?”

“I don’t want to draw inferences” Minseok sighed. “But yes I’d love to keep talking to her.”

“Use Morse code.” Sehun chuckled.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Finally it’s FriYay night and Yn couldn’t be happier staying in her pajamas and being lazy for the next two days. But what the hell! She can’t find her headphones anywhere. And she doesn’t remember where she had last placed them. They were a gift from her cousin. Chanyeol would be upset. She will ask his boyfriend Baekhyun to calm him down and herself buy a new one in the meantime.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her phone ringing.

“Hey Yn, Minseok here. I got your number from the library register. Sorry to call your number without your permission but I just found your headphones in the library and thought I should inform you right then.” He sounded sheepish.

“Phew, I’m so relieved! I was searching for them everywhere and almost decided to buy a new one. Thank you Minseok! I’m glad that you found them.”

“Uh it’s okay. I’m relieved too. So do you need these urgently? Then I can wait in front of the library and hand them over to-"

“No no, I don’t need them right at this moment, but… Umm can you please keep them with you until Monday? I visit the library everyday anyway. I’m too lazy to step out now.”

“Hahaha, okay okay. Don’t worry about that. See you on Monday”

Yn rolled back on her bed smiling. “I’ll have to treat him to chicken drumsticks for real.”

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

“Thanks a lot Minseok." Yn took back her headphones and smiled with her heart eyes now making Minseok's heart go UwU. “Even if it’s not a big deal for you, I am really grateful to you and so I got something for you as a token.” She then started tapping on the desk. Minseok looked at her inquiringly but soon started interpreting the codes as she tapped away. “Got a box of chicken drumsticks for you. Hope you like them.”

He looked at her in surprise. “Who does not like drumsticks? You did not really have to do this though. Thank you for this.”

“Bon Appétit”, she said as she gave him the box. “Well, I need to hurry now. See you later.”

“Why is she so adorable?” He wondered while staring at the box in his hands.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

VII

Yn was having several bad days at a stretch now. She spent weeks without sleeping at night and watched FIFA world cup instead. Her favorite team was eliminated in the semifinals. And now the lack of sleep was taking a toll on her. She barely managed to complete all her pending assignments on time. Professor Junmyeon was still upset with her because she omitted a portion of her assignment carelessly. Her neighborhood cat disappeared without a trace. She avoided a freak accident but witnessed several persons getting severely injured. She has grown tired of her menstrual cramps which were being very cruel to her this time. And the last nail in the coffin: she had a quarrel with her bestfriend Jongdae today. Physically and mentally exhausted she placed her hand on her stomach and sat on a bench behind the canteen of the college and started sobbing silently.

Minseok was leaving early today because the library was practically empty today. Even Yn didn’t come. He suddenly spotted someone sitting hunched on a bench at a distance. It seemed that the person was hurt in the stomach. He rushed over there.

“Yn? What happened to you? What’s wrong? Why are you crying? Are you hurt somewhere? Tell me what’s wrong.” Minseok sat beside her worriedly, held her shoulders and turned her towards him. She buried her face in his chest and burst into loud sobs. He instantly engulfed her in his hug and patted her head. “It’s okay Yn. Let it out.” Over the months he grew close to her. They both had a lot of friendly banters and of course some crazy conversations through Morse code. Seeing her cry now tugged at his heartstrings. “Breathe Yn. Take deep breaths. Yes. Do you want to talk about it?”

“I hate crying. I-I don’t want to be like this.” Yn said between her sobs. “I had way too many bad days to handle and-" she paused abruptly. The cramps were back again. She curled up in pain.

“And you are having cramps?” He finished her sentence. “You’ll be fine. Yn. Just endure a bit, okay?” Still holding her tight in his hug he reached out for his bag and took out a heating pad. “Here, Yn. Take this.” He kept on stroking her head and occasionally rubbing her back while she tended to her cramps.

“You okay now?”

Yn pulled back from the hug when the cramps subsided. “Thank you Minseok. Yes, I feel better now.”

“I’m glad.” He handed her some tissue paper. “Now wipe your tears and come with me” He led her to the canteen.

“Here, have a cup of hot chocolate. You’ll get relief… That’s right yes. Drink slowly.” He sat beside her and stroked her head. “Done?... Okay"

Yn started sniffling. “Yn, is everything okay?” Minseok panicked.

She nodded her head. “I’m just touched by your gesture. Thanks for making me feel better.”

Minseok smiled. “That’s what friends do. Well, it’s pretty late now. Let me drop you off at your house. Let’s go.”

“I have an extra helmet and I drive pretty well and my bike is well maintained.”

“I didn’t say anything.” Yn giggled.

“Well I just made a declaration so you don’t feel threatened. Just don’t fall asleep that’s all.” He was relieved to hear her laugh again.

“Aye aye Master Xiu.”

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

VIII

Yn saw that Jongdae wasn’t present in the classroom. She decided she’d visit his house later today and sort out the misunderstanding. She walked out of the classroom during recess hour. Suddenly someone hugged her tight. She smiled and hugged him back. She knew it was Jongdae. “I’m sorry Yn. There was a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have reacted that way. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It’s okay Dae, I realized that. And I would have anyway barged into your house had you not come to college.”

“So, are we good now?”

“Of course!”

“Okay then pretty please! Help me pick out a pendant for my girlfriend. I’ve selected some of them but couldn’t finally decide among them. Come with me to the shop later today.”

Yn scowled. “This is why you rushed to patch it up with me huh?”

“Gosh! No no no that’s not it! I’ll treat you to ice cream. Okay?”

“Okay. Deal"

Jongdae sighed. “The way you react to food, I’m pretty sure you’ll drop me in a heartbeat if someone offers you food.”

Suddenly Ji-eun appeared out of nowhere and fake punched Jongdae's face. “How dare you make my Yn baby upset? Yes Yn drop him right away. I’ll treat you to a truckload of ice cream.”

“Guys!!” Jongin appeared and walked towards them making the corridor his runway.

Yn couldn’t deny once she had a tiny crush on him.

“Guess what? Kyungsoo cooked Spaghetti for us!” Jongin screamed. And the four of them dashed to the canteen.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Yixing was already there with Kyungsoo when they reached the canteen. “Dig in guys", Kyungsoo said as they huddled around the table.

“Okay guys! I’ve some tea to spill", Ji-eun announced while looking at Yn intently.

“Spill! Spill! Spill!” They chanted in unison.

“Apparently Yn has gotten herself a boyfriend and decided to conceal the fact".

Yn almost choked. “Wha- when? Even I don’t know I have a boyfriend?”

“Oh yeah? I saw that cute librarian dropping you off at your house yesterday night. You turned to hug him but you seemed shy.” Ji-eun added with a glee “And friends don’t feel shy Yn.”

Yn protested. “I had my reasons. He’s not what you guys think.” She remembered that she hugged Minseok out of gratitude towards him for taking care of her. She had hesitated initially thinking whether it would be appropriate. But she hugged him anyway.

Suddenly someone put their chin on Yn’s left shoulder and yet another put their chin on her right shoulder and both said in unison, “Well well Yn, you never told us anything about this!”

Yn almost fell from her seat. She turned around to see Chanyeol and Baekhyun smiling mischievously at her.

“So is he or is he not-” Chanyeol said while taking a seat. “Your crush?”, added Baekhyun.

Yn shrugged. “I am not sure. I’ve way too many crushes at this point and you guys know that.”

“The most recent crush is our senior Jessi, right", Yixing asked.

“Well yes but I can only admire her from afar”, Yn replied dreamily.

“Anyway get to the point guys.” Chanyeol took the reins. “So apparently it seems he has a soft corner for Yn. I’ve noticed that. And now we must root for Yn and make sure they end up together. So whats our plan?”

“How about kidnapping him and threatening him to date Yn"? Kyungsoo asked excitedly.

“No way!” Jongin protested.

“You’re going to get all of us in trouble, Soo", Baekhyun chuckled.

“Isn’t that the easiest way out?”, Kyungsoo pouted.

“That’s not how things work, Kyungsoo-ah", Jongin said while poking at Kyungsoo's cheek.

Yn could sense that everyone noticed something was brewing between Jongin and Kyungsoo but unsurprisingly they chose to focus on Yn today.

“Well even I agree that’s the easiest way out but we don’t want to get in trouble.” Jongdae said seriously, “so Yn you better speed up and ask him out. And don’t deny that you don’t feel anything for him.”

Yn was again reminded about how she felt fuzzy while being engulfed in Minseok’s hug. He’s definitely a good friend. But she didn’t want to rush things up.

“And Yn if you want to daydream instead of eating that last spoonful of Spaghetti”, Yixing got up and snatched her spoon and finished off the remaining Spaghetti. “Let me have it.”

“I swear to God Yixing!” Yn sprang up. “I’m gonna train Inzaghi to chase you!”

“Now who’s Inzaghi?” Jongin asked suspiciously.

“It’s the Vincenzo effect.” Baekhyun explained. “It’s a neighborhood pigeon and the naming courtesy goes to Yn", Ji-eun added.

“Don’t you guys dare to give out spoilers, some of us are lagging behind an episode or two”, the rest of them warned.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Minseok was standing in the balcony of the library replaying in his head the events of yesterday. He didn’t expect Yn to hug him again and make his heart beat erratically. Sehun was right. He is falling for Yn gradually.

“Hey Minseok are you alright?” Minseok heard Yn’s voice and realized he had zoned out thinking of her. “You seem to have caught a cold.” Yn was worried.

“Oh yes it was raining in my area yesterday and I got drenched".

“Uh oh I’m so sorry. You wouldn’t have gotten drenched had you not accompanied me to drop me off.”

“Well it was raining for quite a long time and I’d have anyway gotten drenched even if I had reached my place earlier. So blame the clouds Yn.” Minseok chuckled making Yn giggle at his explanation.

“But seriously though, you don’t look good. I think you have a fever too.” Yn put her palm on his forehead. Minseok was flustered looking down at her worried face. Yn didn’t realize she was standing at almost zero distance from him. Before he could utter anything Yn grabbed his wrist. “You need to visit the doctor right now", Yn said dragging him downstairs towards the doctor’s room.

“He’s running a high fever. I’m giving some medicine.” The doctor took out a file of capsules. “And I think it’s better if you lie down and take rest in the sick room until your fever goes down.”

“But the libr-" Minseok tried to protest but was cut off by Yn’s stern glare.

“Library can wait. Health first Minseok". Yn crossed her arms.

“Tell your assistant about your situation. He can handle the library for sometime.” The doctor suggested.

“You should head back to library Yn. You went there to read, right? I’ll stay here until my fever goes down. Don’t worry I won’t run away from here.”

“I can read later. Now you close your eyes and take rest.” Yn said sitting on the chair beside the bed while stroking Minseok’s head absent-mindedly.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

Yn could sense that Minseok was staring at her for a long time. The library was crowded as usual. She mouthed “what happened?” but he just smiled and shook his head and resumed his work. He seemed tensed for some reason.

She heard him tapping on his desk when the crowd thinned. Her eyes grew wide. He- did he tap “will you go on a date with me?” She saw him walk towards her.

Minseok spoke hesitantly, “I know I asked you all of a sudden, but I like you. I’ve been debating whether I should tell you this for weeks but I couldn’t hold back any further. You don’t need to tell me right now about how you feel. Take your time. And it’s absolutely fine if you don’t feel the same way. But can we maybe go on a friend date atleast?”

Yn thought for a while. “Sure. Let’s have a friend date.” She smiled. “Where are we going then?”

“I was thinking of taking you to my shooting range. We can play some rounds and have snacks later on there. How about this Sunday afternoon?”

“Sounds great!” Her eyes lit up. “But! On one condition.”

“And what’s that?” He asked cautiously.

“Bring me a bouquet of chicken drumsticks that day.” Yn replied with a wide grin.

“As you wish.” He smiled widely as he touched her nose-tip with his forefinger.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

XII

“This is such a cool place!” Yn ran around inside the shooting range, looking at everything in awe. Minseok watched her with an amused smile. Yn picked up a gun and aimed at the target.

“Wait.” Minseok came up behind her and held her arms. She felt her back against his chest. Her heart started thumping. “Focus Yn. Keep your arm straight while holding the gun. You don’t wanna hurt yourself when the gun recoils.” He adjusted her arms. “Now fire.” She hit the target.

Yn was ecstatic. “Minseok let’s play a round then. I’ll go first.”

He kept on smiling and hyped her up every time she aimed with the gun. She was just unbelievably adorable. And a sharpshooter too. She missed the target only once. He fell for her deeper every time she flashed an adorable smile at him after hitting the target.

“It’s my turn now. And I’m going to beat you in this round.” He winked at her.

Yn gaped at him while he shot the targets one by one. He looked darn sexy in that pose. He got ready for the last target and was just about to press the trigger. “I like you too, Minseok!” She blurted out. Minseok was shocked and turned his face towards Yn. The trigger went off and he missed the target.

“It’s a draw! It’s a draw! You didn’t beat me!” Yn jumped and danced gleefully around him.

“So, you- you said that just to make me miss my target? And nothing more?” Minseok looked at her sadly and turned his back to her.

“No! Oh no no you got the wrong idea.” She tugged at his sleeve. “I really meant it when I said I like you.” Minseok turned towards Yn in surprise. She went on, “I have been thinking about it ever since you told me about your feelings. I had already decided I’d tell you about my feelings today. But I couldn’t just suppress the urge to fool around a bit when I got the opportunity to.”

“You’re such a cheeky girl!” Minseok exclaimed and chased her.

“You won’t catch me that easily! I run fast.” Yn shouted while running ahead of him.

“Well not faster than I!” Minseok wrapped his arms around her waist, lifted her off the ground and spun round, making her blush.

“It’s getting late, Yn, let’s go now.” Minseok said tugging at her.

“I’m not able to handle this gun properly.” Yn pouted.

“It’s okay, I’ll show you how to. But later, okay? It’s getting really late now.” Minseok couldn’t stop chuckling at her antics.

Minseok and Yn bumped into Sehun outside the shooting range. “Yn, this is Sehun, one of my teammates in the shooting range. And a TMI, he’s the one who created that fan-page.” Minseok gave Sehun a fake glare. “And Sehun, this is Yn, my date.”

“Nice to meet you, Yn.” Sehun gave her a warm handshake. “Do you like this place and my bro here?”

“I love it here! I’m gonna come here often now.” Yn replied. “And yes I like him too.” She said looking at Minseok shyly.

Minseok blushed. “I’m dropping her off at her house. I’ll see you tomorrow Hun.”

Sehun smirked and managed to whisper into Minseok’s ear, “you are lucky that she’s into Morse code. So did you confess to her using Morse code?”

“Don’t give me that look you cheesy little brat.” Minseok whisper-yelled at him.

Yn stopped by her gate. “I really had a great time with you. Thank you for today Minseok.”

“I’m also glad to spend some time with you. See you tomorrow.” Minseok stopped before turning back to his bike. “So are we dating officially now Yn?”

“Yes. A thousand times yes.” Yn smiled.

He walked closer to her, leaned close to her lips and locked his eyes with hers seeking permission. She nodded nervously while standing on her tiptoes and placed her hands on his shoulders. Wrapping his arms around her he pulled her in and she was a little more brave. It’s the first kiss, it’s flawless, really something. It’s fearless. Yn didn’t care now if Ji-eun was sitting by her window and keeping an eye on her. Yn would tell her group of friends everything tomorrow.

But the thing is, Ji-eun really saw Yn with Minseok. She had a triumphant smile on her lips.

^_^ ^_^ ^_^

XIII

Yn saw that everyone in her squad was giving her a cheeky smile while swarming towards her. “Guys, I can explain. I wanted to tell everything face to face. That’s why I didn’t text anyone.”

“And I saw them kissing too!” Ji-eun said excitedly and made a kissing gesture towards Yn.

Yn had a flashback of yesterday. He was very gentle with her. She absolutely melted in his kiss.

“I bet Yn is having flashbacks of that moment.” Jongdae smirked. “Look at her. Her face is a beetroot now.”

“You guys!” Yn stomped her feet.

“Okay, okay calm down Yn. Let’s have a lunch together today, shall we? Tell Minseok to join us.” Chanyeol spoke.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, call him.” Everyone shouted in unison.

“Okay. Okay. Chill.” Yn giggled while dialing Minseok’s number.

Minseok blended well with Yn’s noisy and cheeky friends. Yn was glad how things turned out.

“So, Yn and Minseok. Tell us how did you two end up together. What was the catalyst? The squad wants to know.” Yixing said holding up a spoon as if it were a mic.

The couple turned to each other and smiled. They both knew what they were about to say. Minseok and Yn turned again towards the squad and said, “not just one. There were two catalysts. Morse code and Chicken drumsticks.”

-----(The end)-----

_____________________________________________________________

P.S. Those who are wondering how did Minseok know Yn’s name (in chapter III), I leave it to your imagination. ;-)

He might have seen the library register, or might have noticed the name on her notebook when she shut it, or maybe her headphones were customised to bear her name on them and he noticed that. The choice is yours. And why did Yn not get surprised? Well she’s quick-witted too.

I hope this wasn’t too boring. This is my first time writing a story. Thank you for reading :-)

If you wish you can take a look at my fanart account on Instagram. Here's the link.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Anne 🇮🇳 (@baekhyuns_pikachu)

instagram

Thank you Ayushee for hyping me up. She has written a fanfic too. Check it out.

8 notes · View notes

dropsofletters · 4 years

Text

the perks of loving in return

title: the perks of loving in return pairing: wong kun hang/reader genre: childhood friends!au/bridesmaid!au/groomsman!au summary: kun hang has always bled into her life, imprints of images in the back of every moment she has lived. something about him is always present in her, purely stuck to her soul in the most mundane of ways—two strangers united by fate. perhaps, it goes in hand with the fact that he is her cousin’s best friend, but their relationship has never gone past simple conversation. fate takes care of that along with her cousin’s rushed, out-of-the-blue wedding, basically pushing the bridesmaid and the groomsman together once again. type: fluff/romance/humor word count: 12,025 ⚠️ disclaimer: this is part of the love diaries, my valentine’s day project with wayv, if you want to read the rest of the members’ stories, you can click here and find the masterlist for it.

In her life, the concept of time is so tight that she barely had time to breathe. Still, she is one of those people that continues to use watches, the accessory an excuse for her to continue looking down at her arm, rushing from one place to the other, living her life in such a hurry that she barely got time to stop and stare at the beauty that surrounded her.

January is as beautiful as she remembered it, with its mornings that feel like will never come thanks to the Sun taking a little bit more time to awaken and the breeze that clings to her clothes, the perfect mixture of warmth and coldness. Then again, the heat may come from the fact that she is always running around from her campus to her workplace, forgoing the taxis and the helpful car rides to simply take a walk to whatever place she needed to be. She’s punctual, over all, loving when the clock indicates that she is ten or fifteen minutes earlier, indicating that she is even faster than responsibility itself—it brings her pride, taking the few minutes she has to take a break. This eventful morning, she gets to lean against a wall and look at the beauty of the city, how people seem to be slower in this time of the year. Everyone is still dizzy from the holidays, or perhaps putting their health first in the first month of the year, but it is rewarding in every possible way.

Waiting for ten minutes is one thing, but waiting for twenty becomes unbearable for her, growing tired of the glances people thrown her way and the ache that now settles on her fingertips thanks to the coldness around her. After all, being in front of a wedding venue in the middle of her busy day is not exactly what she had envisioned to be doing on her Saturday morning. She could have taken this time to rest before she had to go to her shift in the record store she worked at, or perhaps her fingers could have picked at the edges of her textbook, getting ready for yet another test…instead, she was there, staying after such a long while thanks to her cousin’s quickened and utterly pointless decision of getting married to high-school sweetheart. Surely, she is happy for them…but her back that is now practically glued to the closed door of the wedding venue they were supposed to be checking out is telling her to simply leave as is.

To hell being a bridesmaid. The weather is perfect to sit with a cup of hot chocolate, coated in marshmallows and ready for her to sip on as she thinks of her duties of the morning. Her agenda must welcome her with something new to do and the pleasure of crossing an activity with a bunch of lines after finishing it could never compare to anything else. She is a lover of organization, of color coding and planning the entirety of her life.

Speaking of lovers, someone who is the epitome of a million hearts drawn in a sheet of paper, red and palpitating even in its static figure, is nearing her with quickened steps. The black strands of his hair fell in wavy lines to frame his face, his most delicate features coming from his thin set of lips and playful eyes, like he is mocking the wind for not being able to stop him. Her mind recognizes the slim figure of him, the width of his nose, the shape of his smile when he sees her, one hand lifting up in the air to greet her with a wave, though it may as well be a warning for her to go. She likes to call him ‘lover boy’ with how loving and doting he looks, earning the appreciation of people for as long as she has known him—and it has been a big chunk of time since the first time she got introduced to him—. Life falls in love with him, people cannot figure out how anyone could hate him and she admits that she does not hate him, either, even though their conversations have always been somewhat shortened by reality.

She may call him lover boy in her head, but his real name is Kun Hang. The once youthful teenager that she had met in her cousin’s fourteenth birthday party, the same one that took the time to sneak snacks around during that fulfilling night for her to have and the one who whined when she had to go back home. From then on, she only saw him the year after that, on her cousin’s fifteenth birthday party and soon after, it became more common to see Kun Hang. Her cousin’s internet connection just happened to be faster and whenever she went over, she would be met by the sight of the sun-kissed boy that would always be worried about the amount of time she spent on homework or how she would hunch over when she was writing a paper, but other than that…the further away she got from her cousin, the less she heard from Kun Hang.

Though, she always knew everything that happened in his life—gossip of mouth coming from her cousins, or simply because she saw it on social media. Kun Hang, the ever loved guy, who had gone through a skating phase and fell in love once or twice before he fell to dull silence. Sometimes, when she saw Kun Hang in their spared time together, she wondered if he was part of her imagination, a memory that lingered on the back of every picture or the one voice she heard during birthday parties when she was helping up with the cleaning. Perhaps, Kun Hang came to her when time felt like it stopped, releasing her name in a breathy sigh when he stands in front of her.

He is significantly different, nothing she has not seen in pictures, but it has been well over eight months since the last time she saw him. Athletic in his clothing, his bomber jacket on top of his typical white t-shirt and jeans just exudes his name, it reminds her that Kun Hang has changed little to nothing since the moment she met him when he was just thirteen. If she is a lover of organization, Kun Hang adores to destroy it all—getting to a wedding planning meeting ten minutes late is so likely to be done by him, definitely unexpected from the couple who are actually getting married…but what else can she expect from her cousin?

“Is your cousin not here yet?” Kun Hang asks, trying to calm down his breathing by the time she shakes her head. She feels like she wants to run away, mainly because she has way more important things to do than being stood up by her cousin and his fiancé, but she opts to keep the man company for a little while, taking in the way he leans on the wall beside her. “Damn, and here I was thinking I got here pretty late. I had to park two blocks away from here and run all the way.” He speaks a little too quickly, turning to look at her before giving her a toothy grin. “Hi, by the way, I forgot to say that.”

Unlike her, Kun Hang has always been the calm type. Not exactly in the delivery of his jokes or in the way he dances when he is in the middle of a party, but with time. He thinks he has all the moments in the world to do everything and anything, even leaving some things for the last few hours he has before it needs to be delivered, but she is the complete opposite. “Hello,” She utters, crossing her arms over her chest after she says that. “I think it is the first time seeing you rush for something.”

“I am the groomsman and I can’t do my best friend dirty by not helping him out along the way.” In all honesty, she doesn’t think she has the most excellent of relationships with her cousin. They get along well, but she has always been a bit against his style of living. For her cousin, everything needs to be done and decided in just one second, and planning seems like a stupid way martyrs try to make their lives more difficult. Their argued words are respectful, but in the depths of her brain…she wondered if Kun Hang ever thought the same about her, that she had lived her life in such a methodical manner that she was merely existing. “What are you doing here? He didn’t tell me you’d be coming here.”

“He texted me last night. Said his fiancé wanted me as her bridesmaid.” She rolls her eyes, unaware of why she has to be one of those cupcake-looking individuals that stood behind the couple in the wedding pictures, but after giving it some consideration and being almost physically unable to say no to free food for an unlimited amount of time, she opted to come to this place and expected to get some planning done, as well as having the couple decide where their wedding party was going to be located.

Kun Hang seems delighted, though he quirks his eyebrows at her words. “You? As a bridesmaid? I don’t see you in the spot.”

“Ha! Me neither.” She scoffs out the answer, earning a laugh from Kun Hang. Something about her has always been funny, she found out earlier in her life, as if her imminent sarcasm is the newest of joking forms to him. Sometimes, she believes he just does it because he is like that—the Kun Hang that comes with no warning signs, the young man who will cage anyone in with his charms, and that almost caught her once or twice when she got a good look at him. Most of the time, she refrained herself from talking too much to Kun Hang; though a great man, she knows exactly what would happen with her brain if she got to know him better. It would find the charm in him and twist it to something that would linger fearfully in her heart, like a crush but worse.

Rolling on his side so only his left shoulder is resting against the door, he takes his phone out of his pocket before pressing down on the screen quickly, as if writing a text. “Well, I’m not sure, I haven’t seen you in long…” He comments and with a glimpse at his screen, she gets to see that he is texting her cousin. “Maybe, you’ve changed and now you’re into parties and formalities.”

A chuckle comes from the depths of her soul, feeling her stress dissipating to only a glimmering light in the back of her head. She turns slightly, as well, eager to get a good look of him when he finally lifts his gaze. “Never.” She claims, knowing full well that she would rather spend her free time snuggled up against her bed or simply catching up with music that she has yet to listen to, taking the time to relax rather than stressing out about clothing and talking in social events. “Besides, it has not been that long since you saw me last. It was eight, nine months ago…” The few lights in the sky shouldn’t touch his skin so marvelously, it shouldn’t make him see like he is in the utmost relaxed state, but he is. It shows in the way he simply enjoys the conversation, not even glancing at the time once.

“You keep track.” Kun Hang points out, his lips puckered up in a smile when she widens her eyes.

“Uh, not really…” She whispers, embarrassed from his words before turning her body away, looking ahead of her instead of basking in the warmth of his gaze. “I just know.”

“Right,” He adds. “Sometimes, I forget you really are a know-it-all.”

“Am not.” Argue is what she does, stepping away from the door to stand in front of him. She stretches her arms over her head, wanting to move a bit to feel like she is being useful with her time. From so much running and so much planning, she starts to feel like a marathoner, searching for a free day only to be met with more deadlines. She convinces herself that if she stresses out today, she won’t have to worry the next day, but it has been like that for quite a few years. She is used to it. “I just know that you are always there if I go to my cousin’s or anywhere he’s at.”

Kun Hang shrugs his shoulders, nodding his head at her words. “I am kind of his husband by now, that’s true.” He comments, moving his fingers as if he is playing a piano in the air or simply typing something in the breeze. “Don’t make me remind you that you are always in a computer like this. Last time we saw each other; you didn’t even greet me. That’s why it seems like it has been ages.” When he stops his motions, his talent of speaking as if he has a pout on his face when he is actually smiling surprises her.

“I— You didn’t say hello, either.”

“I am always the one to say hello.” The man indicates easily, a reminder that, indeed, she has always been too busy or embarrassed to spare him more than a glance and a simple wave, but the one that started the conversation was always Kun Hang. He is the party maker, a shade of red that is almost obnoxious, passion in human form. Even in his quietest of states, he manages to have people entertained by him…or at least, drawn to him. “Am I right or not?”

Keeping her mouth shut, she mouths a small: “I guess.” Before Kun Hang claps his hands together.

“I am so right!”

“…I am just so busy.” She comments, trying to defend herself with hard work and pointy facts, but her words are cut short when Kun Hang battles back with facts of his own.

“Do you ever plan to take a break?”

“I don’t.” She answers, a small smile displaying over her features. “I was just about to leave before you got here. I don’t have time to waste.”

“Ooh, sassy.” Kun Hang plays around with his tone, raising one hand in the air for her to high-five and once he does, she can simply bask on the sight of him. So happy, like he is genuinely glad that they get to talk without having anything interrupting them, or where she actually gives him more than one word answers. “Good thing your cousin is already here—” His finger points behind her and clearly, she gets to see the sight of her cousin’s old Volkswagen, obnoxiously yellow and bright, a shade that almost has her closing her eyes. When she hears Kun Hang’s voice, it is mostly teasing, though awaiting at the same time. “Well, now that you are a bridesmaid and I am playing the groomsman role, I feel like I can teach you a thing or two.” She looks at him, frowning at his words before huffing. “I am serious! I will teach you how to relax and enjoy life.”

Shaking her head, she greets her cousin with a wave of her hand. “Get over here, you’re late!” She exclaims, though she lowers her voice to speak to Kun Hang. Mischief is over his features, fixing the bucket hat on his head when she speaks to him. “Take me by surprise. I doubt you will get me to relax.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Hell yes.” She comments, nodding slightly before she pulls the sleeves of her coat down on her hands. Nervousness is brought upon her when she realizes just how much she had talked to Kun Hang in such little time, wondering if she made a fool of herself or if she came off too rude, but instead, lover boy takes his hat off, placing it upon his chest and holding it in place with one hand, closing his eyes thanks to his delighted thoughts.

“I swear I will, I swear over my own name.” He tells her, opening his eyes and quirking an eyebrow soon after. “You just watch.”

Thankfully, the sound of her cousin’s voice is enough to distract her from the promise Kun Hang had just made. In reality, it is probably a play of his words, something that he says to sugarcoat her like he does to everyone else. Maybe, she won’t get to see him until more months and this is just her fix of Kun Hang for the year. Wondering is not something she does, but she acts upon what she actually has planned, which is entering the wedding venue and seeing just how good it is. The only difference is that he has a man by her side, constantly trying to make conversation with her.

It is just one morning with him, she is sure of it. Kun Hang has never been more than just a yearly acquaintance; he won’t be able to actually relax her, take her away from her city-girl lifestyle…but he does an excellent job that day.

📹

On the second week after her first meeting with the soon-to-be-wed couple, she thought she’d be a little bit more lightweight, able to simply text her cousin’s fiancé about the dress and how against she is of wearing tight fabrics, or any skirt for the matter, but that is not the case. Instead, she finds herself in the middle of a dancing class, the sound of some salsa tune reverberating on every corner of the room, holding on to her fingers to keep her sanity. Her legs are constantly moving and not with the need to repeat the steps that the loud dance instructor had indicated, but with the need to run away. If parties are not her scene, much less is an entire dancing routine as the entrance of the groom and bride the passage that she wants to take part of.

She could have said no—but then again, there is something about her that pushes her to finish something that she has already started, like the fear of failure sticks so badly to her skin it is unbearable to keep it there. Think of working out for long hours, only to stop midway through it because she cannot do it anymore, that is simply not her style. Instead, she rushed out of her workplace and took the biggest t-shirt she owned and a pair of those yoga pants she never got to wear in the first place, entering the dancing class that her cousin had talked so excitedly about. At the beginning, everything had been absolutely peachy, two steps to the right, two steps to the left and one to the front. Whatever it was, it was easy enough.

Until she got paired up with Yu Yan’s little brother, the exact replica of her cousin’s fiancé but in male form and definitely more annoying. His height could give have led him to believe he was an adult, a smirk practically plastered on his face when the instructor indicated that they needed to dance together. He really thought that when her back is filled with sweat and her head is thinking of all the possible ways to escape such place—through the window, the door or even by hiding, she doesn’t care at this point—, she is going to stand his…ignorance, his incompetence, his smug face as he makes yet another mistake and they have to go over the routine once again.

The truth is…she is not in the mood. She never wanted to be a bridesmaid on the first place. She would have been fine without the free dinner her cousin had offered whenever she wanted…but her curiousness had won over her, her need to do everything and anything, and now she was stuck with the same annoying tune repeating on her head over and over again.

Pulling away for a brief moment, with the excuse of having to drink water, she pushes her hair away from her face, trying to remember the breathing techniques she once learnt from some online article. This is what wasting her time does to her, when she feels like she is stuck doing something that is not productive. Sometimes, she knows it is important to take a break or two—which she does whenever she can—but this is entirely ridiculous. For someone who spends her afternoons in between punk enthusiast and rock fans selling records in a mall, and who works her hardest in college to get somewhat acceptable grades—with the occasional cry from bad results—, this is the lowest blow to her ego. A reminder that it only takes a single salsa class and an ineffectual dancing partner to reduce her to absolute insanity.

When she twirls the lid on her water bottle, taking a sip of the remaining liquid inside, she notices she had just finished it. Great, exactly what she needed when her mood is going through a volcano and burning itself alive in so much hatred that she could scream. She doesn’t, luckily or not, she is capable of keeping her lips shut when she feels someone’s cold bottle pressing to the side of her arm. When turning around, her mouth is already opening to snap at the individual who had done such an atrocity, but her words die down in the back of her throat when she sees who exactly was trying to bother her.

And the sight of his innocent smile, though a bit mischievous, is enough to have her question if there is one good thing that can come out from this dancing class…

Only one, though. One in the shape of the lover boy that is always a pleasure to talk to.

He chuckles, so heartfelt that happiness suddenly feels to be defined by his name. Kun Hang was in her peripheral vision earlier in the evening, his footwork smooth but also funny when he needs to ease the tension around the air. Something about him makes her feel like there are a million worries in the world, but now—this present that she is living—is just a second. In the blink of an eye, something could happen, something could change, the world will look unaffected, but there are thousands of matters taking importance in people’s lives. For every worry, there is a smile, there is a new beginning, there is a person out there who is trying their best…there is joy. From the early mornings in which she craves coffee more than the sunlight itself, she takes time for granted, planning days ahead, years ahead, always thinking of moving forward and forward and forward. Kun Hang is one of those people that live the moment. “I have some bottled coffee, if you want.” He offers, earning a surprised gaze from the woman in front of him. “Or you can lick the edge of the bottle to see if there’s a little bit of water there. Whatever floats your boat.”

Giving in, she takes the bottle from his hands, almost untouched, the iced coffee nicely welcomed in such a hot day. Kun Hang looks at her when she takes the first sip, hearing her rough voice soon after. “Thank you.” She tells him, pressing her hand against her forehead before sighing. “I really needed the coffee. I feel like I am about to lose my goddamned mind.”

“Is dancing not your thing?”

She takes a glance at the groups of people there, all paired up and conversing, getting ready for the absolute embarrassment that they are going to go through once the wedding comes around and they do a whole salsa routine as an entrance. If outdoing celebrations deserved an award, her cousin and Yu Yan are getting first place. “I have nothing against dancing,” She starts, reminiscent of the moments she danced in her room to the sound of her favorite song or the times in which dancing with her friends just seemed like the only way to stress about something else that wasn’t being better at anything she did. “But fuck, it is difficult when I have a sixteen-year-old boy telling me how a million girls would like to be in my place for dancing with him.” Her nose scrunches up at those words, watching as Kun Hang’s eyes widen, comically but also sweetly. “My question is: do all teenagers have to go through that cringe-worthy phase? Because his is hitting strong, and I am not having it.”

“I didn’t go through it.” Kun Hang says, earning a muffled laugh from her…because she truly remembers that phase that Kun Hang had gone through, in which every videogame he played deserved to be printed in a t-shirt and worn by him until the logo was imperceptible. “I didn’t!”

“Yours wasn’t as strong as mine, I’ll admit that.” She recalls, looking at Kun Hang with adoration in her gaze. The reality is that Kun Hang reminds her of the happiest moments of her teenage years, when all the pressure did not build up with the idea of the future and not becoming a memorable person, but he was always there…static, greeting her even if she was having a bad day and smiling even when she was awestruck by some crush in her high school years. Kun Hang exudes so much whole-hearted contentment, like all he wants to bring to the world is a smile. “This coffee is so good, by the way.”

“Thanks. One of my friends is a barista and I always have him making me the best of the best.” He comments, taking a good look at her before she takes another sip. The bottled drink is given to him, his smile changing to a confused expression almost instantly. “Uh, no, you can have it all—”

“I feel bad taking your caffeine intake away from you.”

“You really think this is my first cup of coffee?” Kun Hang asks, giving her the bottle back before scoffing. “I have at least two cups of coffee floating around this beautiful body of mine.” So energetic, lively, yet so softened in his own way. In the eyes of the world, Kun Hang is the type of guy to love during the summer or to talk to during boring days. He is a party in the form of a nice looking guy, exciting, yet not…what she is used to.

“I didn’t know.” She comments, taking one last long sip before putting the lid on and twisting it around in a secure place. “Unrelated, but sometimes when I have too many cups of coffee, I end up falling asleep.”

“You do?” Kun Hang asks, only to have her nodding as they walk towards the center of the dancing room. “I think it’s just your hard work that is making you fall asleep.”

Chuckling, she responds. “You’re not the first person who tells me that.”

“But it’s true! I would be surprised if you even sleep for five hours.” Guilty, she shrugs her shoulders, earning a small push on her shoulder coming from the man in front of her. “You don’t?!”

“…I don’t.” She announces, looking over her shoulder to see that, not too far but neither too close, there is that stupid teenager waiting for her to dance with him again—stupid and young, taking everything like a joke, imagining himself like the young Leonardo DiCaprio of his generation. “This guy is so annoying, what a fucking imbecile—” She speaks lowly, only to have Kun Hang humming, trying to understand the piece of her mind she had just given to the world. An awkward giggle leaves her lips, wondering why in the hell her patience has to be so damned short and why she can’t keep her mouth shut when she really needs to.

“Bo Jing is the imbecile?”

“…Yes.” She sighs, wondering how long it would take her to have to stand such extravagance for a mere union, but there is still quite plenty of time for it to end. February is just around the corner, Valentine’s Day the moment his cousin decided to marry the woman of his dreams. Does that term even exist in this world? A dream is a goal, for her, what appears in her mind that seems to be appealing enough, she reaches—love has never been that important. Overrated, no one is perfect, no one should be treated as so.

“Hey, Bo Jing!” Kun Hang speaks loudly and her eyes widen at the thought of the boy who exudes the definition of love being naïve enough to talk to Bo Jing about her distaste for him. In reality, the teenager simply raises his head, the eyebrow with a shaved slit lifting up at the sound of Kun Hang’s voice. “I’m dancing with her. You’re taking too long to learn the steps.”

Bo Jing’s face falls at those words, laughing slightly though his face reddened. “I—Uh, I was not, it was her fault.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Kun Hang tries not to pick a fight—much less with someone who is clearly underage and has the ego of a damned celebrity. Instead, he opts to make him feel better, taking her by the arm as he speaks. “Is that so? Then, I’ll have to teach her the steps.”

“Okay, that’s good!” The instructor says, clapping her hands together to start with the class once again. Kun Hang gets in position along with her, though the closeness is unbearable. His breath fans over her face, eyes glistening when he smiles down at her. His grip was not strong, neither was it delicate, it just seemed to be like it was meant to feel like this—with his hand grasping hers at a certain angle from their faces, his legs parting slightly, crooking underneath his weight thanks to the dramatic concept of the dance. She tries to do the same, bubbling up with laughter when he tries to muffle his. The lack of space is not something she would have ever imagined could happen with Kun Hang, and though it is merely for entertainment purposes when the wedding does arrive, she knows that she shouldn’t feel half as affected as she is when his chest press to hers when his other hand rests on her waist. His knee bumps against her, fixing the movement of her knee.

“Thank you for saving me,” She replies, adding exasperation to her tone. The dramatics of her tone fit Kun Hang more than it would ever fit her; he has always been like that—not the type of person to demand attention, but that gets it naturally. Flowers bloom from him, in all shapes and colors, sometimes funny, sometimes beautiful, sometimes there to remind someone in the middle of their hectic day that there is youth in all of us. Immature, Kun Hang is, in the most delicate of ways—he is leaning more towards childishly happy than anything else. “And thank you for cracking all the bones in my body with this position. It really helps as a reminder that I’m getting older.”

“Chiropractor Wong Kun Hang at your service.” The comment sounds so oddly funny in his lips, making her throw her head back slightly as she laughs. Hearing the sound of the music starting, moving the moment Kun Hang starts with the steps. The fluidness is there, though there are still some moments in which they bump against each other or that they laugh when they steal glances and realize that this is way too serious. Unnecessarily so. With his hand now resting on her back and their cheeks practically squished together thanks to the dance, speaking to her even through the music. “Fourteen-year-old me would have screamed if someone ever told him he’d up dancing salsa with you.”

The meaning is ambiguous, perhaps because he truly just did such thing because he didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable with another person…or because he truly enjoys the pace, the natural enchantment, the weightless feeling of being around each other in such a different way. They have been acquaintances for as long as they can remember and still, there is still so much to peel and uncover from the other. “Fourteen-year-old me would have cringed.” She says after he raises her back up from leaning her against her back, the vibration of his laughter matching the rhythm of the music pumping through her skin, becoming one with her heart.

“You, right now, are cringing.”

“…You’re not wrong.”

Serenity settles between them, even if the instructor is clapping to a tempo, screaming for instructions, talking over the music. Even when there are other pairs of feet hitting against the same floor as them, moving with the same motions. Talking to him comes naturally, like he really does make time stop—as if the clock doesn’t exist when she is with him, lovely in everything he does.

📹

What is an instant?

An instant is the blink of an eye, if she’s not sleepy, wishing for nothing more than wrap herself up in her blankets and forget that there is even an alarm, that is. An instant is the breath she gives in normal occasions, reminder that she is a palpable being in the planet. An instant is the seconds in the microwave when she just needs to eat something, but when her stomach is twisting in hunger, it is an entire eternity. When people grow older, instants become more constant—years feel like months, some days feel like years, a moment becomes a blurry memory that feels like it existed but it also didn’t, the greatest of times are considered instants. Her life is full of stressful instants, those minutes in between every planned activity that remind her that the twenty-four hours a day gives are not enough, and will never be enough.

Right now, she feels like she can’t do all the things that she has to. Part of her knows that this just comes with the weight of the amount of projects he has to fulfill, this one professor taking his precious time to ask for specifics that could very well land her a job in the NASA with how picky, petty and meticulous they are. But, in her typical fashion, she has to find something even more stressing to cover up the anxiousness that settles within her when she finally finishes her project and still, still it doesn’t complete the checklist of expectations she had for it.

In her defense, though it may as well not be in her defense at all, she hasn’t been attending to wedding practices or anything of the sort simply because she is busy. She contacts the couple whenever she can, half-assed in her approach because she shouldn’t be caring about someone’s wedding, but there is not a lot of information she can play around with. That is her excuse for calling Wong Kun Hang at ten at night, simply because she needs to stress out about something else and a wedding along with a phone-call with the one lover boy that she has always felt attraction for sounds like the perfect hindrance.

Waiting for him to pick up feels like those mere seconds in which she waits for the water to boil when cooking pasta. Part of her wants to stop doing it, for too much work is not exactly what she needs at the moment, but at the same time—she wants to, but waiting brings anxiousness upon her and it definitely does not feel nice when she wonders if Kun Hang is just being nice and she’ll be able to take off that mask of charisma by calling him so late at night. Not even texting him, calling him.

“Oh, look who’s calling. Finally finished with the studying hibernation season?”

Studying hibernation season, more like her whole life. Though, Kun Hang already knows that. The most important matter right now is how she is laying against her bed, opting to speak lowly on the phone because if her roommate ever hears her speaking too loudly at night, she is definitely going to have to get through an earful of words in the form of a scold. Instead, she wonders what had gotten over her—looking for words is a hassle, going around from touching the hem of her shirt to pressing her palm to her eyes, in hopes of completely forgetting the shiver that runs down her spine when she feels embarrassment creeping up on her.

“Uh, not really. I’ve been working on a project all week, just finished it now…” The same week that she has been avoiding any kind of wedding preparations. She sits up on her bed, legs dangling from the side, fists tightening on the fabric of her blankets, gripping so tightly anyone would think she is having a call with someone of importance. “I was going to ask you how the wedding preparations were going. Did they find the venue? What about the dance, did they finally give up on that?”

“We wish.” Kun Hang adds softly, the rustling of sheets following his statement. Right, some people actually have sleeping schedules…and Kun Hang just seems like the type to have one. “To answer your question, though…” His voice trails softly, unlike his typical cheery tone. There is still happiness in there, threaded in between his sleepiness, but the difference in tone is spectacular. His range changes from cheery to the sweetest lullaby. “They found a venue after looking at a hundred more, but Yu Yan lost her ring after looking for a venue near the beach and getting inside the water.”

Gasping, she imagines the exact imagine in her brain. The waves clashing against each other softly, the scream that probably left Yu Yan’s lips and her cousin’s bank account asking for a break. After all, he likes giving himself a luxurious gift or two every once in a while, practically leaving him void of any money. “No way…”

“You should have seen her. Dude, I told her to not get in the water but then she just got in and honestly? It was expected, I’m not surprised.” Kun Hang’s tone is now more excited, as if he wants her to relive the moment with him. Nonetheless, she can only imagine how bad it feels to lose such a bright, big diamond ring. “By the way, you should totally come with us. In three days, Yu Yan is going to buy her new ring and she asked me to go with her.” The invitation is typical of Kun Hang; he wants everyone feel involved, to spend a good time with the people that surround his life, truly living the best times of his life with people around him. They are not friends, even though they know more about each other than some friends do, but even then…everything has fallen into place for them, not exactly because they seek each other’s presence in their lives.

“Sure. I’ll see what I can do. Is the time confirmed yet?”

“Not really. I’m sure she’ll talk about it in that group-chat she made.”

“The one no one checks?” She chuckles, hearing a laugh coming from Kun Hang.

“That one.” He confirms, though the dull atmosphere in between them is changed the moment a second passes by. Suddenly, she realizes that her previous train of thought was right—they have never actually looked or wished to spend time with the other or even text each other, but they still had each other’s numbers.

“How did you get my number?” It is a weird question to ask…because, well, she is the one calling him at ten at night, practically uncovering the fact that she did ask her cousin for Kun Hang’s number, but that was a childish thing she did a few months ago, just in case she needed it. One never knows when you need an ex-skater to help you out with something.

“Remember that one time your cousin and I were racing with bicycles when we were, like, seventeen?” The memory is engraved in her brain. The cuts that had covered Kun Hang’s youthful face, cleaned up with a cloth even though his tears were impeding her actions, coaxing him through the endless pain with some nagging of her own. At the end of the night, Kun Hang was spared the broken leg and instead, sported a few Band-Aids on his face, of his favorite videogame characters.

“Indeed,” The laughter escapes her lips, remembering the distress she felt when she was called to help Kun Hang out. “What about it?”

“I just knew I would need your number if I ever got in trouble. You know, you’re always so…on time to everything. It’s either calling an ambulance or you.” There is something appealing about being a person of support for him, even if in theory they are nothing more than two people who happen to be in each other’s lives more often than they intend to. “What about you?”

“…I…just asked for your number.” She confesses, leaning back down on her bed before sighing.

“Ooh, that’s so cute.” The compliment should have not brought heat to her face but there he is, being the charmer that he is used to being. It doesn’t surprise her that Kun Hang has one or two people head over heels for him—or fourteen, for the matter.

“What’s cute about that?”

“You didn’t even ask me. That means I make you shy.”

“It would be stupid to ask for your number years after we’ve known each other…to you, specifically.” She retorts, releasing a breathy laugh soon after. “Wait, that sentence didn’t make sense. Too much studying is frying my brain.”

Humming the tune of a song, he interrupts himself to give his response. “Take a break.” He tells her. “I know it sounds impossible to you and you think you’re going to fail if you take a five-minute break, but I promise you, with my knowledge of an average student, that nothing is going to happen if you just…rest.”

“If only it was that easy.” Her mind is trapped in the confines of her own imagination, earning a scoff from Kun Hang.

From his side of the world—his instants being longer than hers, in his own patient mind, Kun Hang believes in the power of letting time be, for a race against the least unintelligible concept of reality, thus only conceptualized by supposition, the Moon and the Sun must be tiresome. In the very end, she’ll end up tired…and she’ll realize she didn’t lose an instant, but she lost a lot of what she could have earned with the littlest moments of taking care of herself. “It is not.” Kun Hang reasons. “But it’s important.”

“Yeah, right. I’ll take care of it later.”

“Later is not now, but I’ll take it.” Kun Hang’s breath fans on his end of the phone softly, coming from the yawn that he lets out. “I’ll head off to sleep. I’ll text you later.”

And unlike anything she has ever said before, she answers with: “Later is not now.” Before realizing what she just said, hanging up in time to hear the sound of Kun Hang’s laughter, meddling with her little goodbye.

That definitely goes to the top ten most embarrassing things she has said in front of him.

In typical Kun Hang nature, though, she does get a text.

📹

You don’t notice the shade of someone’s eyes the moment you meet them, or most likely, you don’t. You don’t notice what they may be going true, if a smile is just there for the sake of it, or if their short replies comes from a place of chillness or simply because they are too shy and anxious to utter long sentences. You don’t know how much time they will take away from your life or how many times you’ll get to hear their laughs. You don’t know if they’ll break your heart or if five years from now, you’ll even remember them—

Right now, she knows plenty of things that she didn’t know about Kun Hang before, when she was merely a teenager. His eyes are so brown they may have been works of a chocolatier in their most inspired night. Kun Hang is not one for short replies, too hyperactive to even be able to keep up with anyone, and he is always trying to make everyone happy—though not perfectly, but that is his charm. He is so raw, just honest with the type of person that he is, that it feels like it is meant to be. Five years or more from the day she got to know him, she can say that she doesn’t hate him. She doesn’t love him. They are not friends. They are not strangers. They are and they aren’t, but what are they?

She can’t specifically answer that, though she knows what she wants to be to him—a friend, the type of friend that they have always been meant to be, but they never became. Actually, she can’t actually answer the title they deserve to have now, for it is far too complex, too long in its story, but she can say where they are and a jewelry store is just the perfect setting.

Pristine glass showcasing the most expensive of jewelry, loudly presented by the ever-charismatic worker there, some good amount taller than Kun Hang. It is far too elegant for people like them, standing behind Yu Yan with equally as lost looks. The woman is definitely more interested, elegant hands grasping the diamonds and the rings in between her fingertips, meanwhile she is trying not to look at the way Kun Hang moves, going from one corner of the shop to another, pacing back and forth, sometimes getting lost in looking at something before returning to his spot beside her. The consequences are almost nonexistent, though, she prides herself in her talent of not being caught when she is stealing one or two glances at him from the corner of her eye.

This is the time of her life where she really is not sure if her mind gravitates towards the action of looking at him because she is thinking of how much his shirt makes him look like he is dressed as ‘Where’s Waldo?’ or because she genuinely likes what she sees. Although, it has never been quite a secret that Kun Hang is naturally attractive—the guy next door type of attractive, where she can imagine him as the type of man most people daydream having as their first love. Charming, with that glimpse of too much youthfulness, like he swears to live under the ‘ride or die’ phrase.

Suddenly, she feels his breath cascading over her ear when he speaks to her lowly. “There’s a pizza shop right in front, you want to go there?”

Weighting the options, it’s either waiting there until Yu Yan finally decides on a ring—and that won’t be soon, really—or going to a nice-looking pizza place, neon lights and yellow along with red colored decorations giving away a nice vibe. “I would love to.” She whispers back, calling Yu Yan’s name softly, only to get a hum from the busy woman. “We’ll go eat some pizza while you…decide…”

“I don’t mind. Bring me some.”

That’s the cue for them to go out of the place as quickly as they can, either because looking around various jewelry places with Yu Yan is tiresome on its own or because they are really hungry. She takes the time to bask in simple conversation with Kun Hang, her hands in her pockets as she listens to him ramble about his favorite choices in food—he’s a wild card, going from the most expected of things to different pleasantries he has tried, not exactly minding the taste of a flavorful pizza. Kun Hang tries his hardest to make her feel at ease, like he has done for the past few years endlessly, and still, she can’t wrap her mind around it.

It’s too difficult to understand why he smiles at her when she tells him her favorite pizza topping, only to earn a chuckle from him. “Typical college student order.”

“Oh, excuse me, you’re calling me typical?” She asks, pushing the door open to see some black haired water, wearing a red cap and the most appealing smile when Kun Hang waves at him, though his attention quickly goes back to the person by his side.

“Not really, but your college should pay you for the amount of publicity you give them. All you seem to care about is that, which is amazing, but…breathe for a second.” His words are not meant to offend her, instead, he is trying to push the worries away from her. Working too hard is her brand, the clothes she wears every morning, afternoon and night. It is, indeed, fulfilling on the long run…but a single failed attempt at something is enough to tumble her down, breaking her to shards of the person she is. “I admire you for never complaining, though.”

Chuckling, she looks at the board that describes all the toppings for the pizzas and types of sauces, only to continue the conversation while doing so. “I do complain. Mostly mentally.”

“Why do you never complain to someone else?” He asks.

“Because I don’t want to bother anymore.”

“You never bother me.”

“That’s because you don’t actually talk to me that much. If I started to ramble about my tests and the topics I’m excited about, and the classes I love and hate and whatever, you probably wouldn’t listen.”

You don’t know how a person is going to react when you open up to them even the slightest. You don’t know if they’ll laugh, if they’ll remain quiet, if they are faking their reactions or they mean it. What she doesn’t know is that there are numerous perks to Kun Hang and they show in the way he looks at her, like she has just described his favorite fairytale, one that brings him memories from his past. In Kun Hang’s case, like she had reminded him of the videogame that he used to play when he was younger.

“I would listen to all of that. I wouldn’t get tired.” He shrugs, licking his bottom lip before biting down on it. Reaching for his wallet inside his pocket, he continues. “You know what? Let’s order something and sit down. Let’s have our first long conversation.” The sincerity and determination in his voice is quickly deleted when his voice drops slowly, eyebrows molding into an expression of insecurity. “If you want, of course.”

It sounds fitting after so many years, and for the first time, she doesn’t question what she knows or what she doesn’t, she simply lets Kun Hang lead the conversation, no matter of pointless of open it is.

📹

One day, everything becomes a pattern.

For example, she checks her phone when she gets out of class, most likely at around eleven in the morning, when she is moving from one part of the campus to the other, tightening the strips of her hoodie to keep it place, smiling at the messages Kun Hang leaves her, to which she responds as quickly as possible. But there are even worse routines, like spending every Saturday helping his cousin get to the aisle with the love of his life and having to deal with the impossibilities of being a bridesmaid. Dress trying is not supposed to be one of those hardships, but when Yu Yan had spoken about short, tight dresses, she had eventually weighted the options of simply leaving the spot at the wedding for someone way more fitting. Someone who, in this instance, is not her.

One of her habits, amongst many others like basically living with her face buried deep in a book and sometimes eating on her bed for being too lazy to even stand up, there is this one that she acquired once entering college. Any possibility of high heels was exchanged for sneakers, all skirts and dresses were pushed to the back of her closet, only purchased to wear once in her life before opting to wear her typical leggings instead. She had become quite lazy with style; she can sincerely accept that. When there are more important matters in hand, wearing a skirt is the least of her worries—beautiful they are, but not good for running around the campus to get to her classes.

Which is why she basically feels odd when she tries the purple dress on, the lilac shade appealing to the eye, but the skirt of the dress short enough for her to bend over and basically have her underwear displayed to everyone in the wedding reception. The more she looks at it, the more she wants to simply say it doesn’t fit her and put on her leggings, because as pretty as it may be, she has grown used to a certain version of herself, hard to battle when she remembers just how much exposure she will get from that wedding. Families and friends alike, all looking at her dancing to whatever song she had learned and wearing a purple dress and most definitely posing for pictures that she will hate in the long run. The only thing keeping this wedding somewhat acceptable is the food and, of course, her dancing partner.

Her dancing partner, Kun Hang, who was trying his suit on earlier and he had looked like the epitome of a prince. Someone like him is not expected to ever wear a tuxedo, but the black fabric and the white of the shirt that he tucks underneath matches him perfectly, wearing the same shade of purple in his tie than the one on her dress. The dress that has her locked up in a changing room, wondering if she will be able to get out without feeling like absolute shit.

The wedding is in two weeks. She better just get out there and be brave. It’s just a simple dress. That is what she promises herself, but the moment she unlocks the door, she releases a shaky breath.

Someone should have listened to her opinion of wearing pants.

Luckily for her, people are too tired with their own looks, fixing the smallest details and going around the shop to look for the shoes that they are going to wear, but a few steps away from the changing room lets her see that there is someone seated there, looking down at his phone with peace, his normal state of mind. Kun Hang still has his suit on, immaculate as in the beginning, but she is now aware of how right she is about the fit and the style, all made for Kun Hang.

Lifting his gaze at the sound of a door closing, Kun Hang barely acknowledges her before returning his gaze to his phone. It takes him around three seconds to look up again, a soft smile caressing his features when he realizes who it is. “Is there anything bothering you? You look like you’re going through it.”

“Trust me. I’m going through it right now.” She finishes, pulling down the hem of her dress before sighing. “It is way too short.”

“Huh, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with a dress. You don’t like them?” Kun Hang questions, not the most observant of men, but when it comes to her, he seems to know much more than she gives him credit for. It is as though she is not as good as she makes herself out to be when it comes to hiding her feelings, or Kun Hang just knows her too well. Shaking her head, she gives him the answer he expected. “You should talk to Yu Yan about the length, then. I’m sure she can get it fixed—”

Plopping down on the seat beside him, she imagined just how much of a mess that would be. This is one of her tipping points when everything in her life seems to be too much and accepting to be a bridesmaid, on top of all, just seems to succeed on breaking her apart. “I’ll just leave it like that.” She comments, watching as Kun Hang reaches for his backpack, taking his leather jacket out of its confines before wrapping it around her waist. “Uh, you don’t have to.”

“I want to.” He comments, looking up at her after tying it in a knot, the closeness long gone. “Besides, if you’re not comfortable with it on its own, then I’ll help you cover it.”

“Thank you.”

“I am here to help.” He comments, taking one look over his shoulder to see the drinking bridesmaids along with the groomsmen, hearing them chatter with incredible excitement, trying on glistening heels and jet-black dressy shoes. Everything seems to be perfect, like it comes out of a movie, and there are two outcasts in the background. Getting his camera, one that she has noticed him using to film the preparations of the wedding, he starts recording with a smile on his face, taking his time to get a good shot.

“What are you recording?” She doesn’t realize that she is practically pressing her chest to his back, resting her chin on his shoulder to see the screen that displays a moment to be remembered.

“The wedding preparations. I had to make a speech but I decided to leave that to someone else and edit a video.” He chuckles at his words, as if there is something funny in that. When his neck turns to have his eyes looking at her, she thinks there is so much care in them. Beauty is one thing, but feeling like he protects her from one gaze is something she is not used to. Her mind is set on doing everything on her own, a lone individual in between seas of people. “I just so happen to have a lot of footage of you.”

Smacking his shoulder, she argues: “I hope it is good footage.”

“The perks of having such a good filmmaker right in front of you is that they are very nice.” He conquers, pride blooming from his words before his shoulders shake slightly with his laughter. “…And…it is always good footage if you’re there.”

For a brief moment, she wonders if this is the time where they actually become friends or the moment she realizes that all along, this entire time, all she has wished for him is to…to like her. Like her how she likes him, absentmindedly and purely, from afar but also so close, having both worlds in their hands. Good and less good, because nothing is bad with them; Kun Hang is a memory she will remember on the day of her death, a man who’ll bring all the shades of him to the room with his blossoming excitement. However, she can’t express that, instead opting to go for the safest, quite lame response and it goes along the lines of:

“Thank you for the jacket. It’s very sweet of you to do this.”

What she means, though, is an entirely different thing.

📹

“Stop recording me as I’m eating a slice of Red Velvet cake.”

“Don’t break the fourth wall for the viewers.”

“What viewers, Kun Hang?!” Now, with her fork dangling from her fingers and her mouth trying to chew on the juicy, delicious, very colorful red velvet, she finally turns to look at him and that infamous camera that he holds in between his hands. It is directly aimed at her, now more shameless than ever, two days away from Valentine’s Day and also, the day of his cousin’s wedding. The getaway is simple, some dinner and dessert to celebrate the couple’s bachelor party. Weird, staged, completely their style and yet, she doesn’t regret cramping more studying in the afternoon to be able to have such delicious meals. “…Oh shit, I forget you’re actually going to air this at the wedding. Don’t you dare put this in.”

Blame it on sugar high, but Kun Hang is a thousand times bolder when his cheeks are red and he is eating yet another slice of those volcano chocolate treats that everyone has been talking about. “Can’t blame me for recording the most interesting person in this event.” He tells her as a matter of fact, with all the width of his chest like he is not even ashamed to say it. At this point, he may not; in between the constant pizza getaways, the texts, the shared smiles and the practices, she doesn’t think there is a line in between them anymore. It is insanely scary, not because of him, but because of the situation. One day, Kun Hang will mean more than he ever has—as a friend, as the person she lost after this wedding, whatever his title is going to be after that. It is the effects of talking back to someone, of returning whatever interest he has in her, friendly or not. “Anything to say about the Red Velvet? Did you like their last album?”

“Huh?” After taking a few minutes to understand his joke, she laughs softly. “Is that the best joke you have?”

“Yeah, sorry, don’t even listen to me.”

Slicing some of the Red Velvet, she feels like she is going to regret ever getting close to him, alone in their shared table while everyone else is dancing, chatting, doing whatever it is that this bachelor party is about. Or not, she may not even regret this at all. This is the magic of him as an irony, making her believe something before her own mind twists around its axis. She brings the fork closer to him, watching as his lips part when she feeds him, a little bit of the frosting falling on his lips before he licks it off. “There you go, now you can judge by yourself.”

“That’s the best cake out of all they gave us!” Kun Hang compliments, wrapping his hand around the camera before zooming in and out of her face repeatedly. “To be expected out of our best food critique—”

Placing her hand on the lens, she sighs. “Can you stop zooming in my face like you’re recording a wild animal?”

“Seeing you out of your dorm is already a rarity on its own.”

“Just eat this Red Velvet cake with me before I actually decide to go back to my hibernation.” Though, it is the only time she ever jokes around with matters like that with someone. Staying in her room has always been safety, four walls that understand who she is and never say anything about it—they are unable to, after all, but Kun Hang seems to look past that. As charismatic as he is, he would be able to easily go to the rest of the individuals in that room and bask in a relaxed conversation, hearty and light, but he decides to stay with her. Out of all subjects, he decides to record her.

That, on its own, is a compliment. A perk, out of the many he has.

📹

The sight in front of her may as well be part of her imagination. She is seated at her desk, probably, still daydreaming about the moment that nightly class finishes with a tender conclusion and no homework, enough for her to go back home and actually catch up with sleep, because the constant ache in her eyes is a huge indicator of her tiredness. Instead, the night welcomes her in such a breezy weather once she steps out of the campus, wondering why in the hell her dorms are not closer and why she should walk all the way there—or perhaps, she should take a taxi, but would that be considered lazy given that it’s just three blocks away?

Yet, the night spits him out magically, placed in front of her with each of his legs resting on the sides of his bicycle. In most occasions, people would have laughed—someone his age would probably prefer a motorcycle for the sake of an aesthetic, but Kun Hang is still hanging on to that old bicycle he got as some Christmas present. He shouldn’t have looked half as heavenly as he did, hair moving with the wind, wearing comfortable clothing for the somewhat cold weather and sporting the biggest smile. Through sunrise or sunsets, Kun Hang always seems to be warm, much more when she nears him as she grins on her own accord, trailing her gaze across the bicycle before speaking up.

“I didn’t know you still had that bicycle!”

“I am saving the environment and doing a work-out, I think I’ll keep it for a while.” Something about him different, like worry really made a home out of his brain and he had gotten to where she was as soon as possible. Earlier on the day, she had told Kun Hang her last class would be at nine at night, but she didn’t expect him to ever get close to the college campus. Some people are passing by, but she is concentrated in what he says next. “Get on. I’m taking you home.”

Scoffing, she looks at him instead of inspecting the bicycle. “We’re both getting on your old bicycle just so you can take me home? What if we fall?” She asks, all too serious about anything in life, but Kun Hang looks for the second helmet by his bicycle, tossing it at her so her hands catch it.

“You’re just lucky I am one with speed.”

Maybe, it is stupid. The fact that she gets on the bicycle, hands grasping for him in order to keep herself in place, smiling when Kun Hang actually goes a bit slower to keep her safe, or at least to make her feel like she is so. The wind knocks the air out of her lungs, a huge smile taking over her face as she extends her neck slightly, only to look at the city surrounding them. Kun Hang speaks over the noise, asking about her day and this may be a warning sign from life, telling her that they are far too close now and she is starting to get lost in the feeling of having him there—

But it is not life that is pulling them together anymore, they are in the same space at the same time whenever they want to. The warning sign should be that this is her decision now, no longer letting everything go but simply deciding to stay by his side. Where are the perks in that?

📹

I procrastinated. Sorry I can’t give you your gift today.

What?

Just…what?

This is not the message she should be getting when she is walking to a beauty salon with the rest of the bridesmaids, when her stress is up the roof with how Yu Yan is basically screaming to everyone’s faces, complaining about even the smallest of things. The messages stare back at her with confusion and the question previously asked definitely goes back in the form of a text. Valentine’s Day is at its peak, people going around with big bouquets, chocolates and busy lives, probably uniting a day between professional life and love. On the other hand, she is living romance through the mind of a petty bride that does not want her hair to even look remotely tussled in any single way, basically having the worker re-do everything they had done before. Everyone else is at the verge of insanity, too.

For a few hours, she doesn’t even check her phone, but she does wonder what kind of gift she could get from Kun Hang. Valentine’s Day is not necessarily…for friends, though it can be, and she is trying to make herself believe that it is something Kun Hang wants to give her for their new connection, not something that lingers with a warm feeling of the culture of love. But it is there, the anticipation, the wonder of what kind of gift she could be getting from him and the message remains unanswered to when she gets out of the salon, hair done and now ready to get her dress on and fix the case of runny lipstick if necessary.

It is when she is nearing her dorms when she hears her phone going off with a text, not once but twice, but then again, she has more important things to do than sit down and reply to the text. On the other hand, it could be a very important e-mail for a project, but she tries to ignore it as she goes up the stairs. Her thighs are aching, head thumping and worries booming with the need of going back home, slipping in the covers and forgetting this wedding even exists, that in five hours to be exact, she is going to be in a wedding and an hour after that, she is going to be dancing some salsa song with Kun Hang.

...The name immediately makes her check her phone.

The grip on her phone is too clammy, too tight, instead opting to click on the video he sent her after saying ‘Finished it!’ in a text. If this is his gift, then it may as well be a long one, over seven minutes of a recording making it look like tough work. Her eyes focus on the filter on top of the recordings, all things that they had gone through for the past month. The way she laughs is what is presented first, cringing at the sight of her laughing at one of the groomsman’s jokes, and Kun Hang was far away to perceive it. Soon after, their conversations are the ones that are being recorded, from the ones they had in the changing room to many they had during practice, where his camera would just gravitate towards her. In there, she notices the adoration in his voice, the sweet tone in which he starts his sentences and how it never dies down.

What she doesn’t expect is to see some pictures scattered at the end, places in which they had been at the same time but they had never connected. Birthday parties, to be exact, in which Kun Hang was leaning over the couch she was seated at, trying to get a glimpse of her work only to have her smiling. They were far too young, too lost in their own thoughts to even wonder what it was that united them…and now, she really sees that Kun Hang has always wanted to be there, desired to get closer but never needed it. Unlike her, whose roses of love bloomed from a textbook, whose favorite romances came from movies, someone who has only thought of the warning signs of crushing on someone, the downfall, knowing how bad it is on its own, but she has never seen its perks.

The perks of liking someone in return. Softly, decidedly, like she means it with her entire heart.

It is cheesy, definitely, she cringes when Kun Hang goes as far as asking her out with simple text at the end of the video—a simple date, he asks for, and she hates that he has gone to this extent to get her attention, but he did. That’s just his style. Obnoxiously charming.

Just…that’s Wong Kun Hang, the utmost form of himself, and she wouldn’t trade him for anyone else. A lover boy, he is, and now it seems he is one for her.

352 notes · View notes

koko-bopp · 4 years

Text

Hyung — jeon jungkook

jeon jungkook x fuckboy!male!reader

word count – 3K

genre – Mature | highschool!au

warnings – SMUT, bottom!jungkook, Hyung kink, handcuffs, riding, the reader goes from being submissive to dominate all in the same hour.

synopsis – hey babe can you do another bts x male reader? i was thiking about one where jungkook is falling in love with a fuckboy older than him... there are like i dont know fuckbuddies??? like taking stress away together 🤔 you know what i mean lol

"Jungkookohmhgod! You're dating [Y/N]–!!"

Jungkook immediately covered his best friends mouth with both of his hands, stopping him from exposing such damaging information despite the fact that nobody was around, "Jimin! For fuck's sake!" He whispered, "We're not dating!"

"You might as well be!" Jimin insisted, "He's like a whole year older then you! And you went to his dorm room! Oh my god, did you bottom? Did you top?!"

"Jimin!" Jungkook whined, putting his head in his hands, "Please concentrate, this is a real crisis."

"Dude... Sorry, I'm just really shocked and... I don't know, " Jimin admitted, clearly calming down at the news, gripping his own arm in thought, "...How long has, you know, all this gone on for?"

"Four and a half weeks? Give or take." Jungkook confessed.

"Damn. Kook, you sure about him? Just based on first impressions, he's really different from you, " Jimin said, "Like, I heard he slept with his entire gym class at his last school, I'm just surprised he's your type..."

Jungkook flushed a light pink, you really weren't his type. Initially. He thought he wanted the kind of boys who looked like they were going to get into the most prestigious universities, the type that looked like bought you flowers on weekends and took you on cute dates. That's why he had the biggest crush on Taehyung, his close friend, but as soon as you transferred high schools, you became the talk of the school. There was nobody not talking about you, he even heard rumours entering the damn teachers' lounge.

Jungkook was whipped for you as soon as he saw you during your first lunch break. You were also friends with Taehyung's brother, Seokjin, so he heard so much about you anyway and vice versa.

Then came the day where Jungkook spent an evening in detention for breaking the dress code on showing your shoulders. He'd worn a white t-shirt that exposed his collar bone. Of course, he didn't do it on purpose, he was always such a good student. However, he wasn't mad at his decision, because you ended up being in the same detention room as him after school.

One thing led to another and as soon as the supervising teacher existed the room to answer a phone call from his wife, you had Jungkook pinned against you on the teacher's desk, lifting him up and dragging your hands all over his body. Jungkook's lips clashing with yours in such a way that you were addicted to the feeling.

This went on for weeks; making out in storage rooms, fucking in empty classrooms. Hell, Jungkook once gave you a handjob in the auditorium.

He was so in love with you, and he didn't know why, but when you skipped your class to take him out to lunch he was so whipped. He wouldn't stop taking about you, but only Taehyung knew such a fact, since Seokjin had no problem telling his brother such things.

It was only now that you were coming over to his house to... Relieve some stress, and Jungkook honestly thought it would be much easier to deal with if he just collapsed and died. You'd always done the dirty deed in other places, this was the first time it was at his house and it was because Jungkook accidentally let out that his parents weren't going to be home for the weekend.

"Jiminnnn!" Jungkook cried, "What do I do?"

"Can I be honest?"

Jungkook nodded.

"Play hard go get."

Jungkook scoffed, "That won't work. I'm honestly really easy to get, like way too easy."

His best friend raised a frustrated eyebrow, "Make him work for it, I mean. You're clearly bottom, but make it so that you have the upper hand."

Jungkook tilted his head, not fully reading between the lines of Jimin's suggestion.

"Ride his cock."

Oh. Oh. Jungkook looked at his kitchen counter for a second. Thinking about the idea.

It was a good idea.

Jungkook snapped out of his thought, shaking his head before putting his hands on Jimin's shoulders, "Regardless of what my plan is, you need to leave, he'll be here in half an hour."

Jimin rolled his eyes, "Just... Be careful, yeah?"

He nodded.

°•.°•°•.•°°•.

Jungkook's head perked up from the couch when the doorbell rang, he threw his homework on the coffee table of his living room, getting up to fix his shirt. He was wearing a simple beige shirt, one that fit him well. Along with a pair of grey sweatpants. It was nothing special, as if, they were going to come off, so it didn't really matter.

Jungkook opened the door much to his delight you were standing at the door, your signature senior jacket over your shoulder with your forearm resting on the doorframe. You had a smirk on your face, one that tends to make Jungkook melt, "Hey, Kookie."

Jungkook smiled, "Hey."

There wasn't a second thought, you entered the house, dropping your jacket onto the floor, immediately closing or behind you only to push Jungkook against the wall. He tangled his hands into your hair, your hands on his waist and your bodies flush against each other as you two made out like tomorrow was out of the option.

Jungkook took the chance to switch the position, with your lips still on his, your was back now roughly pushed against the wall he was on, much to your surprise. Jungkook took the liberty to roll his hips against yours, his crotch briefly grinding on yours as Jungkook pulled on your bottom lip with his teeth, "Damn, Kook. Feeling brave are we?"

Jungkook blushed, "I just... really, really want you so bad right now."

"Bedroom. I'll be there in a second, I want your shirt off."

He nodded obediently, heading to his room like a puppy, taking his shirt off, even putting the lube on the table so it would be easier for you to get when you needed it.

Half a second went by when a good idea popped into Jungkook's mind, Jimin had jokingly gotten him a birthday present last year, something he'd worn a few times and something he knew he had, but never got the chance to use it; partly because he was borderline embarrassed, and partly because he didn't have any sexual partners at the time.

Jungkook took out the choker that was dangling from one of the hangers from inside his wardrobe, then getting the something that made his lips twitch up slightly, putting the secret tool into the pocket of his sweatpants; instead, walking to the full-length mirror to carefully put the black lace choker around his neck.

"Jungkook, holy shit." You walked back into the room, your shirt was off and the zipper of your jeans were undone. You glanced at Jungkook's neck, the black material contrasting well with his skin tone, and just thinking about what you could do to the younger boy with such a thing prompted you to lick your lips. You approached Jungkook, hooking a finger underneath the fabric, pulling it so Jungkook was closer, "Is this for me?"

Jungkook giggled, he turned so his back was facing the mirror and your calves were facing the bed. He pushed you on the bed gently, climbing on top you, straddling your hips and placing his hands onto your chest, making sure you're not able to have a say in the position, "It's all for you, Hyung."

He knew the title had an effect on you. You placed your hands on his hips, pushing his crotch down against yours, earning a small whimper from Jungkook. "What do you want me to do to you, baby boy?"

Jungkook swallowed carefully, "Hyung... Can you put your hands above your head?" Jungkook asked.

You gave him a side glance, but you trusted him so you removed your hands from his hips, bringing them up to the position, "Like this, baby?"

Jungkook nodded, a cheeky smile painting his lips as had bought our his secret material from his pocket; a pair of silver handcuffs. "You said you were stressed, so I thought I'd make sure my Hyung feels good tonight."

You were still a little shocked, Jungkook was just always under your mercy, and this side of him was really different, so you didn't really have an idea of what to say.

And it made Jungkook giggle, he snapped the handcuffs around your wrist, making sure it stayed above your head. He leaned down so his lips were next to your ear, whispering with lust dripping from his words, "Please, Hyung," Jungkook moaned, grinding down so you were able to feel how hard he was, "Let me ride your cock, Hyung."

A gasp left your throat, earning an airy giggle from Jungkook. You pulled against the handcuffs, your hips bucking up with Jungkook continuing to grind against you. "Fuck, baby boy," you moaned. Jungkook dragged his nails down your chest, leaning down to place kisses along hour neck, holding himself back from leaving marks.

Jungkook kissed down to the line of your underwear, looking up at you to see you breathing incoherently and your eyes closed, smirking before moving off the bed.

You locked eyes with him, whining at the loss of contact, but giving him a shocked look when you watch him carefully take off everything else he was wearing, everything except the choker. You felt your boxers getting way too tight inside your underwear, letting out a groan.

You watched Jungkook smirk, he took the lube from the table, placing it on the bed before straddling your hips once again. He began to slowly pull down your underwear, letting your cock out from the fabric, but not taking everything off, just enough to no longer restraint anything important. He licked his lips, looking down at your length, then back up to meet your gaze.

He took two of his fingers into his mouth, sticking his tongue out so you could watch him. Taking a few seconds to coat his fingers with the natural lubricant before leaning down to place small kisses onto the crook of your neck.

He was fingering himself. Oh lord, he had placed two fingers into his ass while all you could do was pull against the handcuffs and listen to him moan. The noises he let out were short and sweet, he wasn't moaning loudly and desperate like when you would prep him, but it was just enough to drive you crazy because you couldn't do anything about it. "Jungkook, " You complained softly, "Jungkook, fuck, don't torture me like this. Let me touch you, c'mon– ah!" He cut you off with your own whine by biting down on the spot right under your collarbone, something he hadn't yet discovered.

Jungkooks moans got louder, the sounds making your cock harder. He was prepping himself to the point he'd added three fingers pushing in and out of his hole, and it took so much of his will power to not make himself orgasm just from his own fingers. He wanted to have you fuck him just about as much as you did. He extracted his fingers with a groan, looking up you with a knowing grin, kissing the pout on your lips, "A bit of patience, Hyung~"

You nodded, desperate and eager, your actions making Jungkook giggle like a school girl. He took a good amount of lube into his hand, carefully letting his hand glide along down your cock. He watched you arch your back as groans left your lips, noting that hed made you wait so long to even be touched properly. He pumped your length from the base to the tip but not letting himself move any faster, liking to watching your breaths get increasingly heavier with how easy his hand slid because of the lube, and it made his own hard dick twitch in anticipation.

Jungkook straddled your hips, placing his hands onto your chest as support while lowering himself on your cock, a loud moan leaving his lips as he did. It made you smirk, Jungkook whined softly, his ass was clenching around you already and he hadn't even put it in halfway. You chuckled, despite not having a lot of authority in the situation, "Aw, is it too big for you? Can't my baby boy take all of my cock?"

There was something about you saying 'my' that turned him on so much. Like he was yours to fuck, yours to touch, yours to hold, yours to kiss, yours to love. His mind was telling him he was reading too much into it, but the reason you specifically said the word wasn't wrong. Part of you wanted Jungkook completely to yourself, wanting to be the only one he thinks in such a romantic way and vice versa; Hell, you literally hated Taehyung at one point, and you still probably would if he wasn't your best friend's brother.

Jungkook pouted at you taunts though, gently scraping his nails down your chest to stop the clenching around your cock, getting himself to relax so he could prove you wrong. Fuck himself hard so it would even get you panting like a dog in heat.

Jungkook was bouncing on your cock. His hands were fisted on your chest into a ball and eyes were closed, but his mouth was open, burrying himself in so deep that the room was being filled with so many moans, whimpers and grunts from the two of you. Everything smelt of pure sex and Jungkook looking like a god with the yellow lighting from the nightstand making his skin look golden and angelic, a layer of sweat glistening as well. Jungkooks hair was perfectly messy with the hair covering his forehead and parts of his eyes. "Hyung, " He cried, "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, Hyung-!" Jungkook looked so hot like this, his cock was so hard, biting his lip as he threw his head back, the loudest moan coming from him all night leaving his lips, but you couldn't even run your hands on him.

You unintentionally bucked your hips up everytime Jungkook clenched around you. He was doing it on purpose, you knew that, but what was even more frustrating was that he would push your hips back down when you did. Your moans were so messy, and all you could do was watch him do whatever he wanted. "Jungkook, please let me touch you-!" You moaned, your eyes pleading with his, "Please, please, baby boy. Please, oh god, please uncuff me, I need to touch you so bad-"

"You wanna touch me, Hyung?" Jungkook asked, the fabricated innocence mixed with the moan making it so hard for you to concentrate. His pace moved to a roll of his hips, he was so longer riding you like he was chasing an orgasm, but he was slowly grinding on you with his nails digging into your chest, "Wanna fuck me at your own tempo? You're so impatient, Hyung~"

You arched your back ever so slightly with a moan spewing from your lips. He was so good at this, and you hated it. A month and a half seemed to be enough for him to know what you like. Your hips snapped up when Jungkook clenched around you, but he immediately pushed you back down with his hands, giving you a smirk. You pouted, "Jungkook, please."

"Only if–" He started, a his own shattered moan cutting him off as he did, but nonetheless continuing, "–Only if you promise me that you'll take me on a date."

You barely took a second to think, pulling on the cuffs and too fixated on Jungkook clenching around your cock, "I promise–fuck– I'll take you on a date, baby boy."

Jungkook grinded faster, and you felt his thighs clench at your agreement, "Are you just saying that to cum, Hyung? Or do you like me as much as I like you?"

You locked eyes with him, your worn expression had a smirk on it, "Uncuff me and I'll show you how much I like you, baby boy."

Jungkook leaned over carefully, taking the key from under his pillow to bring it to the middle of the headboard where your hands were. Your wrists had a clear contrast from all the pulling, making Jungkook smile a bit. He leaned to unlock the cuffs.

The cuffs were unlocked, but still on your hands when you flipped him over, an unexpected yelp leaving Jungkook as he was now under you. Your hands bouncing his wrists to the sides of his head with a smirk on your lips. "[Y/N]-"

"That's Hyung to you, baby boy." You said, leaning down to place rough kissed along his jaw, making Jungkook moan in delight, "Teasing me like that wasn't smart, baby. Are you even sure you'll be able to walk properly before our date?"

Jungkook whined, letting out an airy chuckle, "Depends. Are you gonna punish me, Hyung?"

#ahhhhh what did i do #jungkook x male reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #smut #jungkook x male reader smut #x male reader smut #bts smut #jimin #taehyung #bts x male reader #bts x male reader smut #jungkook smut

682 notes · View notes

sincerelyreidburke · 4 years

Text

won’t you lay me down

Hi, I wrote some CCU hurt/comfort fluff. I know that sounds like an oxymoron, but bear with me.

In which: Derek has a bad mental health day. Will has his back.

Also on ao3!

///

Will doesn’t see the text at first.

It’s not really his fault. Monday mornings are busy. After morning practice at 6:30 (Will likes that better than evening practice, and as captain he’s tried to keep the practice schedule relatively consistent), he has a meeting with Hall and Murray for thirty minutes while the rest of the team filters out to their respective morning activities and routines. It’s the last he sees of Derek until the afternoon, every Monday— because after Will’s meeting with the coaches, he’s straight off to his internship in Boston for the rest of the morning, then comes back to campus for his 2:30 CS 381 class.

So when the text comes in, he’s mid-transit from Boston to Samwell, sitting in traffic on 128. As a general rule, he doesn’t check his phone while driving. Also, why the fuck is there so much traffic in the middle of the day on a Monday.

He doesn’t understand Massachusetts drivers.

Anyway. It’s when he gets back to campus that he sees it, sitting in his lockscreen over the wallpaper of him and Derek.

18m ago

Derek: do u mind if i chill in the basement

Derek: can’t focus in my room, c is playing music

Oh. Will unlocks his phone, sitting in his student parking spot. He and Derek use each other’s rooms all the time, even outside of their constant sleeping-over in each other’s. Many a time has he returned from class, internship, or other obligation to find his boyfriend hanging out in the bungalow.

They have their own spaces in the Haus, but they do their fare share of, well. Sharing.

Sry just saw this , he sends back. Was drivung. Of cuorse you can use the basment

He looks at the text thread for a second, then sends a <3 after his message, and tucks his phone away again.

On to the next thing.

Class is sort of tedious today, but what’s worse than it is the actual trek back to the Haus from the compsci building, because it’s frigid outside, a chill that gets to his bones even in his winter jacket and the beanie he stole from Derek. In typical New England February fashion, it’s supposed to snow tonight, or at least that’s what he thinks he heard from someone at his internship this morning. He spent most of his shift working out a kink in his supervisor’s code, and he was lost in the numbers and symbols for hours.

He likes it. It’s satisfying to figure out a program.

When he reaches the Haus, finally , Whiskey and Ford are hanging out in the kitchen. He waves to them on his way by, then wonders if he should bake tonight. Maybe after his homework, he can make cookies. The pie he made this weekend is gone already, because all three of the freshmen were here yesterday, nothing he bakes lasts long in their presence.

Will heads straight downstairs, and the door to his room is closed; the lights inside look like they’re off. He eases it open, reaching for the light switch. Derek must have finished whatever he was doing.

Or— not.

Derek is here, and he can tell because he hears Dwayne Johnson singing. He freezes with his hand on the light-switch before he can turn it on, and steps all the way into the room instead, where he catches sight of him— or at least catches sight of what he knows is him, under several layers of cover.

Derek has burrowed himself into Will’s bed with his laptop, and he’s watching Moana , the light of the screen on his face the only source of any light in the room at all. He’s wearing Will’s Samwell hoodie, the good one with Poindexter and 24 and C on the sleeve, and its hood is pulled over his head, strings drawn to make his face look like a blue-lit mask poking out of it. He looks only half-invested in the movie, because he’s resting his face on his arm, scrunched up to the pillow.

Will’s stomach turns. Bedridden Derek in his stolen sweatshirt and Moana are a combination that can only mean one thing.

He closes the door, gently, behind himself. “Der?”

It appears that this is the first Derek actually notices that someone else has entered the room. Will hears the click of the space bar, and the Rock halts mid-chorus. “Oh,” comes Derek’s voice from his blanket cocoon, and it’s small and drawn, the opposite of his loud bravado. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi.” Will drops his backpack at the door, then goes directly to him, crouching on the steps that get him to the loft bed. “Hey,” he says, across the laptop. “Are you okay?”

Derek pauses. He purses his lips at his computer screen, then sighs and lowers it. “Ch’yeah,” he mumbles. “I’m alright.”

With the laptop closed, Will reaches for his face. He cups his stubbly cheek in one hand, runs his thumb across his cheekbone. Derek looks blank, drained. Will knows this demeanor well by now.

“No, you’re not,” he whispers. Without the light of the laptop, it’s nearly dark inside. The slivers of gray daylight from where Derek pulled the shade on the window are all that remain.

Derek breathes in like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. He nuzzles his face into Will’s pillow a little more.

“Der,” Will whispers. He kneels on the steps, pauses his thumb by Derek’s ear. “Gray day?”

Derek whimpers a little, like it pains him to admit it, but nods. “Yeah.”

Will keeps gentle. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks. “This morning?”

Derek bites his lip. “Didn’t feel it this morning.”

“Oh.” Will pauses. “When did it hit you?”

He closes his eyes. “When I got back to the Haus.”

Will frowns. “I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

Derek’s eyes are still closed. He shakes his head. “You couldn’tve known, babe.”

For a moment, the room is quiet. Will pushes Derek’s laptop aside a little. “What can I do?”

Derek takes his time, answering. Will is patient. He knows how to do this. He slides his hand into his curls under the hood; they’re matted, and they’ll be worse if he just lays in bed for the rest of the day. “You want to tie your hair?”

Derek takes a long breath.

“You don’t have to,” Will adds. “But if it’ll help you for later…”

“My scarf’s upstairs,” Derek mumbles, weakly, like upstairs is a continent away.

“It’s okay,” Will tells him. “I can get it, baby.”

Derek’s face contorts a little, like he’s about to cry, but he doesn’t; he just opens his eyes. His eye contact is distant, like he’s staring more into space than back at Will, but he’s trying, and Will knows that. “I love you,” he whispers, and then, “I don’t feel well.”

“I know,” Will hushes. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek groans.

“Never be sorry,” Will says. “Ever.” He kisses his forehead, feather-light, and then tells him, “I love you too. And I’m gonna go get your scarf, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Derek winces again, like something hurts. He nods, though, slowly, and rests his cheek on the pillow again. Will pulls back to go, but God, it’s hard, because he knows how much Derek hates being alone when he feels like this, and he’s already been in here by himself for God knows how long—

Okay, he’ll only be gone a minute. But even so, he feels the need to fill that space. He climbs down to his bookshelf, reaches onto its center shelf between Derek’s poetry books, and grabs hold of his oldest friend.

“Here,” he whispers, bringing Cromwell up so Derek can see. “Do you want a friend?”

Derek eyes the plush lobster, and though he doesn’t look like he has an ounce of energy to smile, his eyes soften. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Please.”

Will hands him over, and Derek engulfs the little red thing in his sea of blankets, resting him right under his nose. The visual would be cute, if Derek weren’t in such a bad spot. Will caresses his cheek again, then smooths the few curls that are poking out of the hood. “Be right back, baby,” he says. “Do you know where your scarf is?”

Derek pauses, then shakes his head.

“It’s alright,” Will assures him. “I’ll find it.”

This was hard, at first, being so new to this side of him, and not knowing how to help him. But they’ve been together for eight months, and Will knows Derek’s gray days by now, knows the tells for when he’s feeling down, knows a few remedies that help to ease the numbness.

He makes a beeline for Derek’s room upstairs as fast as his legs can carry him. The space itself is even evidence that Derek isn’t feeling himself; there are more clothes on the floor than usual, and the bed is unmade, and his desk looks like his notebook exploded. Will sifts through his dresser drawers, between Samwell shirts, pairs of gym shorts, random articles of Will’s own clothing that’ve been stolen, but there’s no sight of the green headscarf he wears sometimes to bed. He moves his search to the desk, and then to the actual bed, and he’s about to give up when he finds it tucked between the down comforter and the sheets.

Success. He heads back downstairs.

“Hey, Dex, is Nursey in your room?”

“Oh—” Will halts in the kitchen doorway. The question came from Ford; she’s still at the counter. “Yeah,” he replies, poking his head around the corner. Tango has now joined the kitchen gathering. “He’s just watching a movie.”

“Oh, cool.” Ford nods. “I just didn’t know if he was in the Haus. I thought I saw him go down there, like, two hours ago.”

“Yeah,” Will says, “he’s with me.”

Tango waves. “Hi, Dex!”

“Hey, Tango.” Will opens the basement stairs door.

Chowder knows this version of Derek as well as Will does, but the rest of the team doesn’t. It’s what’s buried under the chill, what he could never stand to let people know about himself.

Derek’s brain is awful to him sometimes.

Back in his room, he finally takes off his winter jacket and closes the door behind him, then climbs up the steps to his bed again. Derek is still snuggling with Cromwell, but his laptop has moved; he’s pushed it to the pouch adjacent to Will’s headboard where he keeps his phone, occasional book, and other random stuff while he sleeps.

Will unfolds the scarf. It’s silky smooth. “Gave up on Moana ?” he hums.

Derek rolls over and nods. Will kicks his sneakers off, then crawls onto the mattress, which squeaks a little under both their weight. He slides a hand under his back— Derek is very, very warm, but that’s the way he likes to be when he’s like this— and eases him up into a sitting position. “Sit up for me, babe?”

Derek moves with his touch, nice and easy, and when Will has him sitting up, he slots himself against his back, lets Derek lean on him. “You want me to talk?” he asks as he pulls the hood off his head. “Or do you like the quiet?”

Derek hums a little. “Talk. Please.”

“Okay.” Will combs through his curls, then pulls the scarf tight around them. He learned this on YouTube, after his third time hearing post-funk Derek lament that his depression was ruining his hair. “It’s supposed to snow,” he tells him. “Five inches.”

Derek groans. “Fuck that.”

“I know,” Will mumbles. “But if classes get cancelled, I’ll make cookies.”

“Mm.” Derek hums again, as Will pulls the knot at the back of his neck tight. “What kind?”

“Still deciding.” He hooks his arms around his neck, pulls him close, and kisses his cheek. “You can file a request, if you want.”

“Snickerdoodle.”

“Done.”

“Thank you.” Derek pauses. “For tying my hair.”

Will noses into his neck, drops a kiss there, and then moves back up to his face. “Of course, Der.” He turns him a little, cups his face in one hand. Derek still looks gray, and he looks, God, he looks so tired ; he always does when he’s like this, but it pains Will every time.

He wants to take every ounce of hurt away from him.

“What can I do?” he asks.

Derek takes a long breath while he thinks about it. His words, on these days, come slowly. “Um.” He nods to himself, like he’s thinking about it. “Do you have homework?”

Will shakes his head. “I have plenty of time to do it.”

“Okay.” Derek pauses, then, “Lay with me?”

“Yeah.” Will nods. “Ayuh. Of course.”

They wind up curled into the blanket pile, with Derek pressed tight against Will’s chest, a little further down the bed than him so he can tuck his face into his shoulder. Will presses a kiss to the top of his scarf, holds him as close as he can. He knows the pressure helps him, eases his brain a little. Cromwell rests on the pillow, somewhere near the both of them. He’s a little extra moral support.

“Thank you, Will,” Derek says, with an exhale, as he nuzzles into his chest.

“You’re welcome,” Will replies. “Always.”

“Mmf.” Derek wraps himself around him, arms and legs and all. His voice is muffled when he speaks again, but Will knows the words anywhere. “You and me.”

Will nods. “You and me.”

It’s a mantra and a promise. Hell or high water. Good days and gray ones.

“I’ve got you,” he tells him, and he’ll never let go.

#poindextears writes #ficlet #omgcp #omgcheckplease #omgcp fic #nurseydex #dexnursey #william poindexter #derek nurse #cromwell the stuffed lobster

125 notes · View notes

polymetis-23 · 3 years

Text

Diary Entry Sept. 26th, 2021

Day 1 - The hunt begins

I spent most of today working on updates to my hero gear based off the trial runs these past few weeks. First I removed the giant skirt from my costume and replaced it with a utility belt. Sure those might not have been the most iconic thing about steampunk but they tinkered a lot so I'm sure they were around plenty. I hope to make more gadgets as time goes on so this will be a good place to store them. For now it is a simple belt with pockets as found at hardware stores. I know, it's ugly and doesn't really fit and I wish I had time to be proper about it, but with The Eye out there it seems somethings will sadly have to be function over form.

In addition to adding the tool belt, I have been working on the wrist crossbows (told you I wouldn't forget about them). I've moved them down from the back of my hand to around my wrist and made the bow limbs out of a semi-bendable metal. They work like springs and shoot the dart out fairly fast … or at least that is the current theory, I've really only added the wrist strap, had to finish some homework.

As the sun started to set, it was finally time for me to find The Eye (seriously does anyone have a better name for this person?) I could've sworn I was in a movie. The sky was overcast but no rain and everything seemed eerily quiet. Without a better idea I started from where I last saw them, the eye was still on the wall and it didn't look like anyone had been home in a while, I hope she didn't kill him. Anyway, I wasn't about to break into someone's house because that is illegal so I sat on the roof and surveyed for any mysterious red lights. It may not have been the most efficient way to find them, but hey that red glow is the only thing I have to identify them at the moment, and well the eye. I saw a few flashes over the course of the night, and a few more eyes around the city. Some the crime was obvious, another breakin or general vandalism, but others a dark red eye was just on a wall, nothing around to denote why.

Day 2 - Uh yeah, exams are a thing

How, might I ask, are we in the third week of classes and I already have a quiz. Like seriously what are we supposed to have learned at this point? Even if they had taught us something, this is the absolute worst time, now I have to spend all day studying and I can't go out tonight. I was getting so close last night to actually catching up to The Eye. Sure I hadn't actually seen them, but I was getting quicker at navigating the city so the time between red flashes and my arrival at a scene was getting less and less, it was only a matter of time until I caught them.

Day 3 - Crossbow work

The forecast for today is rain, lots of rain all day and I don't really fancy going out and getting soaked or slipping and falling on my butt while hunting for Eye, so I guess today is a design day. It actually works out really well because now I will have the wrist bow ready for when I finally do encounter her. Next thing I need to work on is tranquilizer darts, I don't want to permanently hurt those I bring in, after all I'm not the judge, jury and executioner, I just bring people in to meet justice.

After today's tests the bow seems to be great … or at least manageable. I still need to improve the aiming, for some reason the bolts won't group together. And I need to make an automatic reloader attachment, I have plenty of darts held on the cuff, but it would be nice for the system to be semi automatic incase I miss a shot or more probably I am fighting more than one opponent and need to incapacitate them both in quick succession.

Day 4 - The Evil Eye

Finally a semi-free day. I was able to make a few small adjustments to my weaponry between classes then waited until dark to roam the streets. The clouds from yesterday blew by leaving not a trace and letting the nearly full moon illuminate the streets, although that could also be from light pollution … I guess it is good that I can see and not trip, but I would've liked to be able to see the stars.

The night started relatively calmly, I was finally getting used to the red haze that settled over the world when I used my goggles. If I ever learn how to actually code, I'll have to write a program to filter out the ambient light, but for now I would just have to let my eyes adjust. I got lucky in my positioning tonight, I hadn't seen any pattern in how The Eye chose their targets so I had decided to sit on a random tall roof top and was rewarded with a beam of red two blocks over. Although I had previously only seen an aura of red indicating The Eye's (this is gonna stick now isn't it?) presence, it wasn't hard to imagine that they had the ability to focus it.

I ran across the rooftops, which were thankfully connected, I'll have to figure something out for when they aren't. I guess I could run at street level but that is more crowded and less direct, plus heroes are known for leaping across roofs right? Regardless I soon arrived at where the beam had been and looked for the source. Below me on the street there was a fight going on and sure enough one of the combatants' hands were surrounded by an aura of red. Upon closer observation I was shocked to find out this wasn't a fight, it was a beating. The man The Eye was 'fighting' was just laying on the ground not even trying to defend themselves. It was clear to anyone watching that the fight was over and didn't need to be continued so why was The Eye still there? I called 911 and reported the situation so her victim could get some help. I doubted they would be moving by themselves any time soon.

After placing the call I turned my attention back to the street to apprehend The Eye myself, but they were already gone, an eye left on the ground above the injured man's head. I could already hear the sirens of the ambulance and knew he would be okay. I waited until the paramedics started treating him, then left. I spent the rest of the night searching for another sighting of The Eye to bring them in, but they seemed to have gone silent for the moment. I suppose I will have to try again tomorrow now that I had seen they were not only bad, they were straight up evil. Attacking someone for no reason at all.

Day 5 - The Conversation

So classes were normal today and nothing special happened except well, I finally got to talk with the eye. I went out a little earlier than I usually did planning on scoping out some of the roofs on campus. Although I was currently preoccupied taking down The Eye who seemed to operate across the river, I knew I would be coming back to stop crime on campus eventually. There is a really nice iconic roof space above the main lobby of campus where I was planning to start. Up there you can see all around campus, sure it wasn't the tallest building, but it did have a great view.

Anyway, I was up there planning to see what was what and keeping an eye out for any red flashes in the city when from behind I heard:

"I thought they blocked off all entrances to the roof" they had, I have just been practicing picking locks. Yes I know that skill is rarely used for anything good, but sometimes it can come in handy, like tonight with the door

I turned around expecting to see some other student, while it wasn't a common hang out spot, people definitely still came up here. Instead I was confronted with The Eye herself, what was she doing on this side of the river and at my school no less. Of course I immediately confronted her about her illegal activities and she scoffed at me. I mean she literally scoffed and called me naive, how am I naive when I saw her commit those crimes? Like seriously? It quickly became apparent that she wasn't remorseful at all and needed to be brought in. We had a brief altercation which I definitely nearly won if she hadn't taken a cheap shot and knocked me on my butt I would've had her. As it was I landed with a loud smack and was slightly dazed. The only sound I heard was "stay down, this isn't the world for you" When I got my bearings again, she was gone and I was alone on the roof.

I layed back down and stared at the sky. This is going to take more work than I thought, but I'm sure it can't be that much more.

Day 6 - A day to relax

Not much happened today, I ended up sleeping through my alarm which I guess is a natural consequence of staying up into the early hours of the night every day for a week. I did my laundry, bought a few groceries and sloughed through some homework and … that was about it.

Day 7 - Coding is still the worst

So I have a problem set due for my coding class and I swear this class should be worth twice the amount of credit listed on the syllabus based on how long it takes me to write a 'simple' program. I guess I am learning some things because I can follow the code examples given in class, but I definitely can't recreate them. I'm gonna need to find another way to code my goggles or get someone to do it for me. Superheroes have a man in the chair right?

I eventually got the problem set turned in and started to draft ideas for the semi-automatic wristbow, still very rudimentary though.

#fiction #oc #writeblr #writing #vigilant series

1 note · View note

firewoodfigs · 4 years

Link

Summary: Roy thought this was fine. Perfectly acceptable, in fact. Stolen, furtive kisses over daybreak and evening-time tasting of ginger tea and caffeine; the occasional quiet embrace or two filled with warmth and suppressed ardour. Little indulgences like these were enough to keep them hanging on to each other, to their shared resolve.

“... her eyelids flutter, her breath hitches, and Roy thinks there’s nothing more exquisite than the taste of her. Her morning coffee lingers within. Two spoonfuls of sugar, but it is the indiscernible hum in her throat that sweetens the kiss.”

(for @royaiweek day 5: picture prompt - lovers at sunset; part 6 of Royai Week 2020. thank you mods for the wonderful week! 💕)

~x~

It happened once, on Miss Hawkeye’s thirteenth birthday. Roy had overheard from some of her peers as he was making his way back from a trip to the nearby grocer’s that it was that strange girl’s birthday, and did you see, she didn’t receive any presents - does she even have any friends?

In truth, it wasn’t difficult to figure out why she was friendless. From the little time he’d spent with her in the Hawkeye’s manor she wasn’t the nicest person around. Roy had tried to approach her a few times in the spirit of the good Samaritan, but any attempts at friendliness had been met with hostility. Like that one time he saw her swinging alone on the makeshift swing in their backyard. He had offered to push her on the swing, but she’d pushed him in the chest instead before disappearing back to her room. Or the other time he’d offered to help her with her chemistry homework when he saw her struggling with a permanent scowl etched on her features, in which she had merely stormed off after remarking angrily that she didn’t need an arrogant city boy like him rubbing it in her face.

… Like he said, Miss Hawkeye wasn’t the nicest person around.

Nevertheless, in spite of her antagonism, Roy liked to believe that she was an inherently good person somewhere deep down, if one looked hard enough. Really hard. He’d seen her feed leftovers to the dogs that visited their backyard occasionally though she barely had enough to eat for herself. The Hawkeyes’ abject poverty also meant that food was scarce, but even then she always made sure he got the bigger portion instead.

(Of course, he had tried - multiple times, in fact - to insist otherwise, but any resistance he put up was only met with a baleful glare and a stiff upper lip.)

For the most part, therefore, he was content to leave her alone, and she generally seemed to prefer dogs to people anyway. His days were filled with studying and thick tomes and incomprehensible codes, and Roy was focused on becoming a remarkable, respectable alchemist. One that his aunt would be proud of. Any spare time he had was typically dedicated to trawling through the awfully dusty library in the Hawkeyes’ estate for research and reading.

But this was different.

Birthdays were special, sentimental, as his sisters had indoctrinated in him from the time he’d learnt how to count. Enough to count their birthdays, they claimed. Roy therefore felt terrible at the thought of her spending it alone, without so much as a single gift or birthday wish. From the little he’d gleaned from her relationship with Master Hawkeye it was clear that the man didn’t pay much attention to her, and he found himself wondering if his Master even remembered that it was his daughter’s birthday.

Sadly, his theory was proven right over lunch.

As usual, Miss Hawkeye had been the one to prepare their meals. While he wanted to help, the kitchen felt a little like Miss Hawkeye’s untouchable holy ground - except for the fact that even the removal of his shoes wouldn’t permit him to enter. He ended up waiting awkwardly in the living room, pretending to be engrossed in a thick alchemical tome for the rest of the afternoon amidst sizzling pans and fragrant spices.

When lunch was ready, they ate together as a trio, but neither Master Hawkeye or Miss Hawkeye made any mention of her birthday.

It was just like any other normal day - tense, quiet and sombre.

Afterwards, he returned to his studies, an uncomfortable feeling settling in his gut, but not from Miss Hawkeye’s cooking. Lunch had been fine - great, in fact. Her culinary skills were fantastic, second only to his aunt’s and sisters’. Miss Hawkeye didn't seem to react well to compliments, though, so he smartly refrained from singing her praises.

Alone in his room, the mangled mix of emotions only multiplied tenfold. He'd tried to distract himself with the textbooks strewn across his table, on his bed, but it failed. Nothing could pacify the guilt that had been gnawing at him.

Roy sat upright on his bed, pillow to his chest as he thought long and hard about Miss Hawkeye’s birthday.

He didn’t even know what she liked, and he most certainly didn’t want her to feel like he was lording his money over her. Ordinarily, he might have gifted his sisters with a handmade card, but he didn’t know her well enough to know the words to write. Saying thank you for being so kind and loving all the time didn’t seem to sit well for some reason, and given how sharp she was she would probably see through the lie.

So perhaps something that didn’t cost him anything, and didn’t require him to pen down his thoughts (because really, it was hard to have that many thoughts about a person who barely said much to him) would work best.

A piece of driftwood, or flowers plucked from a nearby bush, maybe?

But those sounded absurd, even to him, and he failed to see what purpose Miss Hawkeye had for those things. Maybe a place he could bring her to?

Then, it hit him like an epiphany. Of course.

He had recently discovered, during one of his recent trips to the forest when he’d been tasked by his Master to collect firewood, that there was a secret hideout that lay within. Oddly enough, that particular corner was unshrouded by trees, and the sunsets there were exceptionally breathtaking - especially when the sunlight refracted off the clear, emerald lake in the middle of the little sanctuary. Occasionally, Roy would take a short break on the abandoned bench to admire the view and empty his mind of the vicissitudes of life that plagued a fifteen-year-old. But the bench was large enough for two, and he sometimes yearned for a companion who could enjoy the scenery with him…

And now, Miss Hawkeye could.

He grinned excitedly as he sprinted over to her room, though when he arrived the wooden door suddenly seemed rather... intimidating.

But Roy was determined to make sure that Miss Hawkeye had a decent birthday, at least. Such occasions were not meant to be spent in isolation, in bitter solitude.

He would not falter.

Taking a deep breath, he mustered all the courage in him and finally knocked on her door, mentally rehearsing what he was going to say. Why am I getting so nervous, anyway? It’s not even a date -

She opened the door to stare at him quizzically. “Uh… hi,” he stuttered. Words eluded him.

“May I help you, Mr. Mustang?”

“Ah, yes... Would you mind taking a stroll with me?” With that one question the look of curiosity on her face was quickly morphing into scepticism, distrust.

“What for?”

“It’s your birthday, right?”

Now she was most definitely suspicious. “... How did you know?”

He gulped. “I… overheard some… things…” he finished lamely. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you a little gift, that’s all.” The large, overbearing grandfather clock in the hallway signalled that it was about five o’clock in the afternoon, and if they went now the timing would be perfect. “Nothing weird, I just wanted to show you a place. If you don’t mind?”

Miss Hawkeye scrutinised him carefully, as if searching for any hint of deception. He kept his palms open, pupils dilated in earnest, and gave his most charming, sincere smile.

When she was finally satisfied that he was being honest, she relented. “... Okay. But not for long, I have to be back to prepare dinner.”

He smiled sunnily at her in response. “Of course, Miss Hawkeye. Shall we go?” She nodded in agreement before following him quietly, and he was thankful for the relatively comfortable silence that had settled between them as they walked through the forest.

Miss Hawkeye was quite a sight to behold, he realised. The sunlight that crept through the dense crowd of trees cast a charming light on her stoic but pretty countenance, and in the forest she seemed a lot more relaxed; a childlike innocence and joy twinkling in her golden eyes. Her skirt billowed gracefully along with the falling leaves that frolicked in the autumn breeze, but despite her attire she moved lithely; feet shuffling through detritus with disconcerting familiarity and ease like she’d done this before.

Eventually, they arrived at their destination. A light sheen of sweat was beginning to form on their foreheads, but they found, much to their delight, that the sun was starting to set in brilliant shades of aureate and tangerine. Roy tugged at her wrist gently to lead her to the bench, to which she shyly obliged, settling them both onto their respective seats. “Here we are. Lovely, isn’t it?”

“It is. I’ve been here before, actually,” she said, fingers fiddling idly with the hem of her skirt as she gazed at the picturesque scene ahead, lulled by the sighs of the water and the gently rocking waves before them.

Roy was a little taken aback by this new revelation. “How did you know about this place?”

Miss Hawkeye’s fingers continued to pick at the threads, and he wondered how they hadn’t come loose by this point. “My mother used to bring me here, too, a long time ago,” she murmured softly, a brittle sort of reverence in her voice.

He stiffened, fervently hoping he hadn’t offended her in some way by bringing her here. “I… I’m sorry, Miss Hawkeye, if this place brings back bad memories.”

She shook her head, but though her lips were beginning to curve upwards in a small smile there was a poignant look in her eyes, like she was reminiscing a distant memory that could never be recreated. “No, it’s not like that. I just… it’s a nice place.”

“It is,” Roy echoed. The silence that had dawned upon them suddenly felt very awkward to him. He swallowed nervously, but decided to ignore the thoughts swimming in his head. Instead, he continued to stare at the sunset that was unfurling in front of them, silently hoping that Miss Hawkeye enjoyed her birthday gift.

“Thank you for bringing me here, Mr. Mustang,” she whispered, legs swinging in tandem with the water’s rhythm.

It broke him out of his reverie. Roy was delighted with the small affirmation that she did like her present, after all. He turned to look at her again, and was mesmerised by how tender she looked, saturated in orange. “Roy.”

“What?”

“Please, call me Roy.”

“... Okay.”

“Can I… can I call you Riza?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t behead him there and then in the middle of the forest. She nodded imperceptibly while keeping her eyes ahead. Roy couldn’t tell if it was the sunset glow that painted her cheeks in the subtlest shade of scarlet, or if it was a blush.

Either way, he beamed, happy with the progress they had made. “Happy birthday, Riza.”

This time, the smile reached her eyes. Roy’s heart began to pulsate in his throat. He felt his breath being taken away, but he was unsure if it was because of the breathtaking scene in front of them or something else. For while the sunlight continued to scatter glittering diamonds on smaragdine, the sparkles dancing in her ochre eyes suddenly seemed infinitely more fascinating.

In front of them, their shadows began to lengthen with the sun’s movement, before slowly merging into one.

~x~

“What’s on your mind, sir?”

“Nothing, just appreciating the sunset,” Roy chuckled. After regaining his vision, he’d come to rediscover an appreciation for simple things that he might have previously taken for granted. But while the sight of the setting sun engulfing the tall buildings in Central was rather glorious in its own way, it paled in comparison to the warm, fulgent rays delicately kissing his Captain, painting her lovely visage in a warm, tender gold.

Roy often found himself wishing that he could be the one kissing her there and then instead during moments like these. Quite unfortunately, though, any semblance of a relationship they shared would have to remain strictly confidential. Their duty to make reparations took precedence over anything else, and in any case the anti-fraternisation laws were still in place.

Dating like two normal civilians were therefore prerogatives that they did not have.

But this was fine. Perfectly acceptable, in fact. Stolen, furtive kisses over daybreak and evening-time tasting of ginger tea and caffeine; the occasional quiet embrace or two filled with warmth and suppressed ardour. Little indulgences like these were enough to keep them hanging on to each other, to their shared resolve.

Anything beyond that - holy matrimony, domesticity and normalcy, perhaps a family of three - probably teetered dangerously close on the precipice of avarice.

This too, shall suffice. Roy ran a hand through his unkempt hair, as if doing so would quell his desires, before turning to give her a soft smile. A conspiratorial whisper, one that only she could hear. “And you.”

“I see,” she replied impassively, although the gears in her brain were already clicking as memories of her thirteenth birthday flashed behind her eyes. Speaking of sunsets and birthdays…

Of course, it didn’t escape her that Roy’s birthday was coming up soon, the same way his daily schedule was never a mystery to her. Birthdays weren’t a particularly special occasion to Riza, but Roy liked to make it so.

She smiled gently as she observed fire dancing in obsidian, suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that his schedule was mercifully empty for the next few days.

Perhaps a trip to Tobha is in order.

~x~

The train ride to Tobha was one filled with companionable silence as vast conglomerations of buildings faded past them into rustic fields and lush valleys of green. Roy picked indolently on a slice of cake that the train staff had kindly provided for their journey. Whether this was a surprise of sorts from his beloved Captain, he wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help chuckling at the memory of almost-begging a young girl to follow him somewhere on her birthday nearly decades ago.

The close proximity between them now reminded him of that memory - the first time he’d inched so close to her without a looming death threat. But now, sitting so close to one another felt like second nature. Wherever they went, his feet always somehow drew him subconsciously nearer to her, and vice versa; revolving around each other like planets in orbit. In some ways, he supposed their presence had the effect of pulling each other in like gravity.

Slowly, he encroached into her personal space to lean his head on her shoulder. Then, he took her right hand in his (hers were smaller, colder) and ran a thumb gently across her knuckles, committing every callused ridge and line to memory to reassure himself again that this wasn’t a dream. That she was well and alive before his very eyes; eyes that could see once more.

“What are you doing, sir?” Riza muttered under her breath, an accusation and a protest. She’s a little embarrassed by how overtly affectionate he was despite the cabin’s privacy.

Roy, on the other hand, could care less.

“There’s no one else here,” he whined, like he was fifteen again. “And it’s my birthday, so let me have this privilege, please?”

She doesn’t bother deigning him with a verbal response. But with a free hand, she cards through his unkempt hair, and Roy feels the faint thrumming of a quickening pulse as she does so. He grins triumphantly to himself before allowing the inconsistent rhythm to lull him to sleep. It’s the most peaceful slumber he’s had in months: he dreams of gossamer webs and sunsets in autumn, reliving a treasured adventure, a cherished memory.

It’s short-lived, though. Soon enough, he’s awoken by her shoulders shrugging against his neck. “We’re here, sir.”

Roy places a finger on her lips. “Please call me Roy,” he requests politely, mirth and nostalgia dancing in his eyes as she rolls hers.

“Fine, Roy. Shall we go?” Roy can’t help but let out an unbridled, wholehearted laugh. It feels a little like a fairytale told in reverse, he thinks. One that he doesn’t mind countless retellings of.

“Of course, Miss Hawkeye,” he replied, intertwining his fingers as they got off the train. She grumbled at his idiocy, but was nonetheless thankful for the lack of prying eyes in this isolated, raffish town.

Together they walk to the forest, hand in hand, and with a quick glance at his pocket watch Roy realises it’s five. The perfect time to watch the sunset. Roy already has a rather accurate idea of where they’re going, but nonetheless obliges - teasingly, of course - when Riza tells him to close his eyes as they pass through magnificent woodland. The smell of wood and damp earth makes for a cornucopia of childhood innocence, one that he’s more than happy to immerse himself in.

“Close your eyes, Roy.”

“Or what, you’ll blindfold me? I didn’t know you were into stuff like -”

“On second thought, maybe I’ll just knock you out myself.” Riza glares at him, feeling like he’s just ruined the magic of the moment with his predilection for bad jokes.

Roy laughs again before complying, lifting his hands to cover his eyes. As he peeks through the infinitesimal gaps, he sees her shaking her head in exasperation, but the slightest hint of amusement makes itself known in the form of a subtle smile.

“Okay, now follow me.” Riza says, and he does. It’s easy to follow her. Roy knows her so well by this point that he understands every change in pitch, every hitch of her breath, every tug at his arm like simple chemistry.

(There’s an electrifying chemistry in the air between them, and he wishes he could seal it with a kiss right there and then.)

Patience, patience.

“I’ll follow you into hell if you wish, Riza,” he opts for teasing her again, and though his eyes are closed, he can already envisage her scowl in his mind.

Regardless, she’s still a sight to behold, as she’d been as a thirteen-year-old.

“We’re here,” she announces a little excitedly, breathily. Instinctively, Roy removes his hands from his eyes to cover her open palm instead.

Tugging at her wrist gently, he leads her towards a wooden bench that’s all too familiar. It’s a little weather-beaten by time and rain, but sturdy all the same: it supports their weight comfortably as they sit, bodies adjacent to each other. Their shadows merge once more as the sun bathes their silhouette in crimson and orange. Roy pulls her in with an arm and relishes in the contact, sneaking a glance at her every so often while she watches the sunset unfold.

Before them, the vivid blaze began to soften into a gentle lilac as the lake drowned out the final vestiges of the sun. Any worries and sins and tragedies that might have plagued them receded like a spectre with the setting sun to give them a moment of undisturbed quietude. It’s incredible to watch, and Roy might have been fascinated by the show if he wasn’t so entranced by the way it reflected in Riza’s eyes; the scarlet mottling her cheeks (he’s pretty sure it’s a blush this time).

Lost in admiration, Roy doesn’t even notice that the enormous sky above them has turned a deep, dark blue until she points out that the first star of the night has appeared.

“Could be Venus instead of a star,” he muses out loud.

“You really have an uncanny ability to spoil things, Roy,” Riza frowns.

“Well, in Roman mythology, Venus was the goddess of love and beauty, and also sex and fertility...”

“... Let’s narrow it down to the goddess of love. Your point being?”

Her question is pure rhetoric at this point as she turns to look at him. Their noses bump against each other’s, but neither makes a move to withdraw. Roy leans in closer, nearer, the same way there was no distance separating their hearts.

Finally, their lips touch, and it feels a little like stars are being born in the enormous universe above them. It starts off tentative, gentle. Riza runs her hands tenderly through a crown of raven black to draw him deeper into the kiss, decades of pining and memories and love unfurling beneath them. It continues like a slow waltz, as though they had all the time in the world, but soon it quickens into a passionate, heated dance as they open their mouths to offer an invitation to explore charted territory. Her eyelids flutter, her breath hitches, and Roy thinks there’s nothing more exquisite than the taste of her. Her morning coffee lingers within. Two spoonfuls of sugar, but it is the indiscernible hum in her throat that sweetens the kiss.

“Happy birthday, Roy,” she whispers after they pull apart.

“Not Mr. Mustang?” Roy manages to quip, a little breathless himself.

Riza sniggers good-naturedly. Idiot. “No, sir.”

He flashes her a smile, one of bittersweet understanding, before leaning in to press his forehead against hers. “Let me savour this moment for a bit more before we get back to business, Riza.”

“Of course, Roy.” She supposed they could afford just this one moment of indulgence before resuming their roles as Brigadier General and Captain.

At the very least, we’ll have these hours of glory to keep our hearts alight, alive.

#royaiweek20 #royai #royai fic #young royai #secret relationship hehe #we're all saps for royai here #finally figured out how to share fics from ao3 onto Tumblr LOL #pls lmk if there are any grammatical errors my brain is not working anymore

33 notes · View notes

joaquinwhorres · 4 years

Text

The Fool (Ch. 2) {Fred Weasley x F!OC}

SUMMARY ››››› After getting tangled up with the Weasley Twins during the events of the Quidditch World Cup, Wren Collings’ life takes a turn for the chaotic. It threatens everything she has going for her, but she’s not convinced that’s entirely a bad thing.

PAIRING ››››› Fred Weasley x Female OC

WORD COUNT ››››› 7,000-ish

WARNINGS ››››› There is no depression or mental health issues in this story, but there are mentions of death, violence, abuse, some PTSD, etc. As most of the specific warnings revolve around major plot points or are found throughout most chapters, I’m just going to rate certain chapters on the movie scale. This is chapter PG-13.

A/N ››››› This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Emma. You KNOW why.

Series Masterlist | Read on ff.net

Wren wasn’t sure who was right, if it was Simon or the cards or her gut feeling about this year: all she knew for sure was that NEWT classes, and not the Triwizard Tournament, would be the death of her.

The last part was a bit of a disappointment, not so much that she wanted to die in a blaze of glory, but she would have at least liked the chance. Sadly, her June birthday saw to the fact that she would be a supporter and not a competitor.

Her small silver lining (more dull grey than a true silver) was that it was one less thing to worry about on top of her classes. McGonagall’s warning when passing over her time table that this year would have a “demanding workload” was apparently code for “grueling affair with death itself.”

Transfiguration, Charms, and Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed fixated on killing her through the traditional means of excessive school work, but the rest seemed to approach her death in a more “hands on” manner.

Herbology seemed intent on strangulation as Professor Sprout has decided to begin with snargaluffs and venomous tentacula. Dodging the slippery and spiky spines soon became second nature.

Hagrid has decided to introduce them to, if not venomous, exceedingly dangerous animals. Currently the class was in the process of telling jokes to Fwoopers as an alternative method to the silencing charm. Leave it to Hagrid to find out that they just click their beak when laughing. Of course, the untraditional method had already put Kenneth Towler and Amina Qureshi into the hospital wing to treat their minor insanity. But, all things considered it was a nice reprieve.

For its part, Potions had started off the year with poisons and their antidotes, which while extremely fascinating was somewhat nerve racking. Wren was fairly certain that at some point Snape would attempt to poison her as the lone Gryffindor in NEWT level potions. That minor fear, in addition to her particular love for the magic, drove her to devoting most of her studying hours to the class.

Which seemed to come in handy now as Snape began to pass out his unannounced quiz to the class. To Wren's surprise and mild relief, it was not a practical quiz but instead a written one. She assumed this was in an attempt to catch out students with trick questions which could otherwise be avoided as long as their potions worked.

In fact, as Wren reached question four, she was sure of it:

I am called in to the Hospital Wing once again because a careless Herbology student has failed to properly cork the juice of a Venomous Tentacula and has gotten some on their skin. What condition do I find him in, and how will I cure it?

She remembered this one as it had been a precaution Professor Sprout had failed to give them. She had simply instructed them not to let any get on their skin, and it was only in potions that Snape had revealed why. It had been more of a side comment in his lecture antidotes for the plant's other means of attack: bite, spike, and venom.

The student will be a bright shade of purple, and depending on how much juice he has come in contact with, complain of a faint burning sensation. The student should also feel quite embarrassed about their negligence. No antidote is truly needed except time which will hopefully make them more careful. Should you choose to cure them, however, the quickest effective cure would be a tincture of muddled fluxweed, shredded boomslang skin, and leech juice. The student will be extremely pale instead for a few days, but it might be preferable to the purple colour.

Wren reread her answer and felt that all loopholes were closed before she moved on to the next question.

A student suddenly collapses in the middle of class during last hour and slowly turns to stone. She has come into contact with no plants or creatures and eaten and drank of nothing since lunch. What were they poisoned with and what is the antidote?

Wren twirled her quill in her hands. Come into contact with nothing but suddenly turned into stone. They could have seen a basilisk? No, that only petrified people, it didn't turn them into stone. Could they have a Gorgon run into their class? Unlikely unless the student was in the Grecian Isles. And that was a sudden turning. This student slowly turned into stone.

It hit her, thinking of islands. Naghinbato Brew.

The student was likely dosed with Naghinbato Brew during their lunch. This poison is undetectable aside from its slight tang and it takes approximately four hours to begin affecting the person poisoned. If the student was lucky enough to fall over with her mouth open, a Wiggenweld potion with some Mandrake roots brewed in after the salamander's blood would reverse the effects. If not, an Adarna must be brought in to sing the student awake.

The remainder of the questions proved to be more and more tricky so that by the end Wren hoped for nothing but essays and practical exams for the rest of the year. The wording of each question proved difficult to navigate and at the end as she packed up her bag to leave for Defense Against the Dark Arts, she found herself casting a look at Snape who had begun to grade the quizzes and looked very much like he had just smelled something unpleasant.

Wren turned and headed out the door, eager to put the past hour behind her.

"Hey, Wren." Quick footsteps caught up to her as Cedric appeared to her left. As the only Hufflepuff in Potions, the pair had taken to sitting together as the sole representatives of their respective houses. Wren had to admit, she hadn't expected to see him on the first day of class. Nora had always claimed he was brilliant, but it had never quite shown through in any of the classes they had together. "How do you think it went?" Cedric asked, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

Wren shook her head. "I don't know. Has he even taught us any antidotes involving the dirt of a child's grave? Or was that just a veiled threat?"

Cedric chuckled. "They use it against Amnetias."

"Of course," Wren moaned.

"What combination of poisons did you list as the components for that last one. I got Angel's Trumpet Draught but what caused the vertigo?

"I said Syrup of Hellebore."

Cedric winced. "Missed that one."

"Your antidote could still work," Wren shrugged, making her way up the stairs as Cedric walked behind her. The two of them pressed close to the walls as a flood of nervous looking Hufflepuff first-years descended down the stairs. Poor kids.

"Not likely," Cedric said. "I used a creature-based remedy for the vertigo."

"Ah well," Wren sighed. "At least we'll all get D's together." Cedric laughed at this and they continued the rest of the way up. The two exited the stairwell, heading towards the classroom that had been the talk of the school recently.

Quite frankly, Dumbledore should have hired an ex-Auror much sooner. Professor Lupin had been good--loads better than Lockhart or Quirrell, or Merlin-forbid, the ghoulish woman Wren had her first year--but Moody, he had lived this. His very first lesson for all of the students 4th through 6th year had been showing the Unforgiveable Curses. Today they were supposed to be practicing resisting the Imperius Curse. This was real education.

Wren entered the classroom, peeling off from Cedric who walked over towards where Nora was sitting with their other Hufflepuff friends. Instead Wren sat at the desk across the aisle from her dorm mates-- Angelina and Alicia.

It was pitiful how quickly Wren had given into the Imperius Curse.

Unsurprisingly, Fred Weasley had been the longest hold out, beating George by a full twenty seconds. Wren suspected it had something to do with their natural inclination to ignore any given directive, but Lee Jordan hadn't done as well as Angelina, and she was by far the most rule-abiding in their friend group.

Wren spent a good portion of the rest of her week practising fortifying herself against being Imperiused so as not to embarrass herself the next lesson.

Her timing wasn't much better.

She largely chalked this up to mental exhaustion after the previous afternoon's brutal double Potions lesson. Snape had clearly been seeking retribution for the class's quiz scores. While Wren had managed to earn an E on hers, it seemed the rest of the class had not been so careful reading the questions if Snape's rant about their inattention to the finer details and nuances of potion making was any indication.

So, after that lesson on Wednesday, being Imperiused on Thursday, and failing to to transfigure her raccoon on Friday, Wren felt completely spent and ill prepared for the mountain of homework awaiting her this weekend.

"I'm not going to survive NEWT classes," Wren griped, laying her head down on her arm and giving her eyes a rest from her Charms textbook, instead gazing at a sideways Simon who looked up at her from across the table.

"You're not going to die," he shook his head, returning his eyes to his parchment. "Nora didn't read it in your cards."

Wren rolled her eyes at the sarcastic joke and propped her head back up on her palm. She might have been more annoyed at the lack of sympathy if it weren't for the fact that she brought up how busy and stressed she was each time he saw her. It was a miracle he put up with her, really. She doubted anyone else would.

"You're right," she agreed. "But, a study break couldn't hurt. We've got ten minutes 'til dinner. Plenty of time to pack up and go to our corner..." She dropped her hand and leaned towards him. Simon looked up from his work again, this time giving her a small smile as he came forward and kissed her gently and far, far too briefly. He sat back into his chair, leaving Wren hovering over the center of the table.

"I wish we could," he sighed, picking up his quill. "Truly." His eyes raked down her face to the opening of her blouse. Wren's face heated up, and she returned to her chair. "But I have to get this done. My weekend's packed as is, and they rescheduled Wizard's Chess Club to tonight so I already have less time than usual."

Wren pouted "I know," she said, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. "I just miss you is all. I haven't seen you all week."

It hadn't been that either of them was avoiding the other--this year it just seemed like their time tables filled up too quickly with barely enough room to squeeze in each other. Each of their classes seemed to meet at opposite times so they never had a free period together. Time after dinner was largely devoted to clubs, homework, studying, and prefect duties with the weekends looking largely the same with the addition of Simon's commitments to his Ravenclaw friends and tutoring of younger students. The only small bit of time they had together during the week was the hour right before dinner on Fridays.

"Wren," Simon said, his voice taking on a slight edge. "I'm doing my best, ok?"

Wren's cheeks grew hot with embarrassment. She hadn't meant to insinuate that he wasn't. She wanted to whine about how Hogwarts seemed to be plotting against them, not whine about him.

"It's my seventh year. I sit NEWTs in June. If you think professors are giving you too much, just wait 'til next year. It's all I can do to keep my head above the water. Between that and my duties," he paused, running a hand through his hair and breaking off the sentence. "When we meet to study, all I can do is study. I want to spend time with you, but I can't afford to just muck about this year."

Wren nodded, sinking back into her chair. She needed to stop complaining. She needed to make the most of their time together. She needed to remember the lessons she had learned from her parents' own marriage dynamic of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. That the Ravenclaw would always focus on the goals and achievements, but couldn't function without the Gryffindor by their side. He did need her. He did want her. She had to just get over this.

This wasn't last year.

For the remainder of their time together, the pair worked in silence. Or, at least, Simon worked. Wren re-read the same paragraph out of her textbook three different times. The silence continued even as they packed up to go to dinner and most of the way down the corridor.

Suddenly Simon tugged Wren by the arm to the side of the hall, the movement leading her to gasp in surprise. He stood before her for a second, looking down at his shoes. "I'm sorry," he apologized, dropping his hand from her arm to hold her hand. "I'm just stressed."

Wren nodded quietly, her eyes also on his navy blue and white wing tips.

"I already hate how little we get to see each other, and when you brought it up--it felt like you were trying to make me feel guilty. And it worked."

"I wasn't trying," Wren said, smally. "I was being honest."

Simon tucked a finger under her chin, tilting it up so he could press another kiss to her lips. This one was far harder than the one in the library, and soon his hands moved to her waist and behind her neck, pulling her against him. Wren's brain had just caught up with the moment, allowing her to tug at the front of his robes when he broke away and leaned his forehead against hers. Tingles still raced to her nerve endings as her body buzzed from the kiss. Simon's kisses always seemed to linger--or perhaps, echo was the right word. The sweetness of the library had lasted longer than the kiss, and the dizziness of this kiss…

"We'll figure it out, ok?" Simon asked. "It's the beginning of the year. Once things settle, we'll find more time."

Wren hummed in agreement, kissing him quickly and chastely before following him off towards dinner.

Weekends hardly felt like the weekend anymore. No time with Simon. No sightings of Nora. Even her dorm mates were out of the Gryffindor tower in various parts of the castle. Everything seemed to pass in a blur. One moment she was eating breakfast on Saturday morning, and the next it was Sunday evening and she was hunched over a stack of Transfigurations books in a corner of the common room. Wren sighed as a fifth year boy burst out laughing as an Exploding Snap tower blew up in his friend's face. The noise was getting too much for both her concentration and her nerves, so, gathering up her books, she retreated up to her dorm, spreading out the materials on her bed.

An hour later, she jolted awake to the door flying open. Wren's pulse raced as she extracted her cheek from the page of her textbook and blinked around to see what had happened. Alicia stood just inside, tears streaming down her face. She also seemed surprised to see Wren, half sitting up amongst her materials with her hair sticking to her face.

"Oh, hullo, Wren," she greeted, hastily wiping at her eyes while studiously avoiding Wren's gaze.

Wren lifted herself up to a seating position, her face creasing in worry. She wished she had Nora's natural instinct to know what to do in situations like this. Did she ask questions? Pretend like she didn't notice the tears? Leave?

"Hi," Wren said gently.

Alicia walked over to her bed, bending over to pull off her shoes. She succeeded in unlacing one and threw it to the floor with much more aggression than the shoe could possibly have deserved.

"Are you all right?" Wren asked dumbly, cringing the second the question came out of her mouth. It was exceedingly obvious, even to her, that Alicia was very much not all right.

"I'll be ok," Alicia brushed aside, fighting with the other shoe.

"Ok," Wren nodded, despite the fact that Alicia still refused to look at Wren.

"Is Angelina around?" Alicia's voice came out tight and high.

Wren winced. "I think she's in the library with Lee."

Alicia nodded, evidently not trusting her voice for a response.

"If you'd like, I'll fetch her," Wren offered. Because that was the decent thing to do right? That was the right solution? Before she could get a response, Wren hedged her bets. "But also if you want, I'm a decent listener."

"It's stupid," Alicia dismissed, despite the fact that her voice seemed to crack around the word.

"Given the fact that I haven't seen you cry more than twice over the past six years, I doubt that."

"It's just...boys are morons," Alicia sat down on her bed, and Wren got up from hers, humming in agreement with Alicia's statement as she crossed the room, sinking down into the bed next to her dorm mate. She lifted her arm to put it around Alicia's shoulders before moving to pull her hair back over her shoulder as if that's what she had always intended to do. She couldn't remember: was it Angelina or Alicia who didn't like to be touched? She had to be the world's worst dorm mate. It was a miracle they even tolerated her.

"And which boy in specific is the moron that made you cry?"

Wren had a sinking feeling she already knew the answer.

"Thom Spiro."

While she had expected it, she still had no idea what to say hearing the name of the boy Alicia fancied fall from her lips. Guessing what he did hardly seemed appropriate, but given the wide range of idiocy common in the teenage boys of Hogwarts, asking seemed to be a dangerous option too. So instead, she sat next to Alicia and tentatively looped her arms around her in what she hoped was not the most awkward hug to ever be given. Whether or not it was, Alicia fell into Wren, her crying picking up.

"I caught him kissing Louisa Finch."

Wren's spine straightened, but she didn't say anything.

"Last night--we were fooling around, and he wanted--" Alicia sobbed, seemingly unable to continue as she buried herself into Wren's shoulder. "I said no. I shouldn't have--"

"No," Wren said, firmly. "Absolutely not. You're not finishing that thought."

Alicia sniffed. "But--maybe--"

"No," Wren repeated, shaking her head. "You're not for his use. Obviously he doesn't want a companion, he just wants something he can stick his knob into. You're more than that."

Alicia let out a watery laugh. "I can't believe you said knob."

"What else do you call it?" Wren asked, and Alicia laughed a bit harder. Spotting a bit of success, Wren smiled. "He's a wanker. A tosser. A prick. A dickhead. A pants thinker. A broomstick with no lift. A magicless wand. I'm just guessing on the last two."

Alicia wiped at her eyes, extracting herself from Wren's hug. "I wouldn't know."

"Because you're smart," Wren said, grabbing Alicia's hand and squeezing it. "If you're not ready, you're not ready. It's better to wait than dive in too soon."

A pause settled between them as Alicia silently nodded seeming to think over the statement. "You're right, but--" she swallowed, and Wren could see the tears begin to gather in her eyes again. "It still hurts."

Behind her Wren heard the door to the dorm open and she looked over her shoulder to see Angelina.

"What happened?" she asked, the tone of her voice hinting that she already suspected exactly the story she was going to hear. Alicia filled her in quickly, adding a few more details that had been lost to sobs when she told Wren. All the while, Angelina listened, her face growing stonier and stonier. "Well, you know what we have to do now," she said simply.

Alicia nodded. "Can you?"

Wren looked between the two girls, her brow creased in confusion. "Sorry, I feel like I'm missing something."

Angelina turned her attention to Wren with an echo of amusement on her face. "We have to tell the twins."

It was impressive how much food Fred and George were able to knick in just a half hour. Crisps, popcorn, apple tarts, pumpkin pasties, oranges, treacle fudge, nut brittle, and butterbeer were all placed in the center of the floor of the boys' dorm. Wren and Katie had managed to scrape together a decent stash of other candies like Fizzing Whizzbees, Sugar Quills, Liquorice Wands, and Acid Pops while Lee had convinced the other sixth year boys to leave the dorm and done an impressive job cleaning. Either that, or the boys were a lot neater than Wren would have ever expected.

Wren reached forward, grabbing a new bottle of butter beer and tapping her wand to the top so the bottle cap flipped off.

"Alright are we going to keep avoiding it or should we get to the business of bashing Spiro?" Fred asked, rubbing his hands together. "I've got some excellent remarks on the spelling of his name."

"Come on Freddie, that’s too easy," George admonished, plucking up a handful of crisps. "Let’s get straight to the point that he's a disgrace to Ravenclaw House."

Wren choked on her butterbeer, and Katie reached over to pat her back some as she attempted to pull herself together. Angelina looked more amused at Wren's reaction than the comment, and Alicia turned rather glum as she twirled a sugar quill between her fingers.

"I'm sure there's plenty of boys in Ravenclaw who have done the same," Alicia sighed, lifting the tip of the quill so she could nibble on it.

"No doubt. Boys are horrid," George agreed. "But even amongst the ranks of Roger Davies and Hector Martín-Delgado, Spiro has a particular brain. One might even liken it to a troll's."

Fred nodded. "He's got to be the dullest of the lot. Not quite sure how he got in, frankly."

"No bloke in their right mind would choose Louisa Finch over you," Lee added, nudging Alicia with his shoulder. The corner of her mouth ticked up.

"That's one thing for sure, but the larger issue is--why snog in a public corridor if you're attempting to run around with as many girls as possible?" George asked.

Even Alicia laughed this time, spitting bits of sugar quill out of her mouth before clamping a hand over it.

"A fair question, George," Fred acknowledged, toasting him with his butterbeer. "There are plenty of empty classrooms for that."

"Or any of the not-so-secret passages," Katie added.

"Behind a tapestry," Angelina shrugged.

"In the woods at night," George suggested.

"Anyone on the grounds, really." Wren put in quickly.

Alicia smiled. "He's not exactly the best at finding spots for...rendezvous. Last time I tried to meet him, I ended up with you and Norah Randolph." Alicia gestured at Wren. This thought seemed to deflate her a bit. "It must be nice to have a boyfriend. You don't have to worry about the running around together bit."

“I wouldn’t know,” George quipped, popping some Fizzing Whizzbees into his mouth.

Alicia reached over and smacked his arm. George flinched away with a chuckle, his body slowly lifting off the floor as he tossed the rest of the sweets in his hand into his mouth. “I was talking to Wren,” Alicia corrected.

“You have a boyfriend?” Fred’s eyebrows shot up as he looked over at her, locking eyes. Her stomach flipped and she paused mid lick of her Acid Pop.

“Where was he at the Cup?” George asked. She felt more than saw his eyes on her.

Wren swallowed, clearing her throat of all sugar. This was not a conversation she wanted to be having. Not ever really, but particularly not now. “He was on holiday.”

“You may very well be on holiday, but you come back for the Cup!” Fred said, indignantly. As if Simon’s absence from the Quidditch World Cup was a particular affront to Fred’s own honor as a fan of the sport.

Wren returned her focus to the acid pop at hand. With any luck it would burn a hole through her tongue in the next twenty seconds, and she’d have an excuse to end this conversation before it steered into unwanted territory. “Well, he’s not particularly a Quidditch fan.”

“What particularly is he then?” George asked.

“Simon Chambers,” Wren answered, sticking the lollipop back into her mouth and deciding that she would not take it out under any circumstances.

“Simon Chambers? Really? You and him?” Fred asked. The shock in his voice was a bit offensive.

Before Wren could break her own resolve–which might have had something to do with why she couldn’t manage to stay un-Imperiused-- Angelina stepped in. “They’ve been dating almost two years,” Angelina looked between the twins. “How did you not know?”

The twins shared a look, and shit, shit, shit.

“Well, I just never would have seen it. You, George?”

“No, never.” No one asked Lee, but he shook his head.

Despite the small wave of relief, her stomach still felt as if it was twisted in knots, and she wished very much that all of the attention was off of her. “Look this isn’t about my love life, this is about celebrating Alicia for narrowly avoiding dating a troll’s tit.”

“Collings! Your language!” George gasped, holding a hand to his chest.

“You should have heard her earlier tirade,” Alicia said, grabbing a licorice wand from Lee’s hand.

Wren once again took the acid pop out of her mouth to defend herself. “It was hardly a tirade. None of the words I said were that bad.”

Alicia crossed her arms. “Would you use them in front of your mother?”

Wren opened her mouth but before she could get a word in, Fred followed up the question.

“Would you use them in front of McGonagall.”

Wren’s mouth snapped shut and the boys laughed.

Katie shook her head. “Never would have expected that out of you, Wren.”

“I never would have expected it out of Simon Chambers’ girlfriend,” Fred remarked.

Wren cast him a sour look, and he laughed loudly, but the subject was dropped, and they returned to eating unhealthy amounts of junk, devising new insults for Thom Spiro, and escaping all of the things that truly sucked about being a 6th year.

Despite the fact that she had to spend two hours, first thing in the morning, avoiding plants attempting to kill her, Wren found Herbology to be a bit of a reprieve. Even today as Professor Sprout taught them to wrangle with a Venomous Tentacula in order to effectively and moderately safely collect the plant’s juice, Wren felt as if she was able to breathe in the Greenhouse.

Part of this she attributed to her mother. Having grown up with a Herbologist of some note, a good amount of Wren’s childhood was spent in the gardens and greenhouses her mother tended. Of course, her mother had never let her get near anything quite so interesting as the plants at Hogwarts, but she’d always quite enjoyed tending to the honking daffodils and umbrella flowers.

Her young training had certainly come in handy during the early years of Herbology, but even now as she collected vial after vial of the juice. Wren backed away from the plant, casting an eye around the greenhouse. Many students seemed to still be struggling getting near the plants, while others, like Fred Weasley, seemed to have no issue getting near the plant but couldn’t quite figure out how to draw out the juice. She continued looking around, her eyes landing on Thom Spiro who was currently standing far too close to Caroline Purvis. She giggled as she held the vial up to the plant, and he stepped even closer, almost forgetting his role as a distractor for the plant.

Wren’s jaw clenched. George was right. Boys were horrid, and Thom Spiro was a special sort. He deserved a serious bit of justice.

As she set the vials in their holder to be brought up to Professor Sprout when class ended, an awful idea struck Wren.

It made her smile.

With one eye on Professor Sprout who was busy helping Arlan Summers and Tom Dalgliesh with their plant, Wren corked a vial, wrapped it in cloth, and stuck it in her bag.

Herbology ended soon after, some pairs, like Wren, scoring as many as four while others had nothing but a few tears in their robes to show for their morning.

Quickly, Wren made her way up the hill towards the courtyard where she could study before lunch. She had just picked out a spot lawn when something in the corner of her eye caught her attention. She turned, staring harder as if that would make things make more sense.

Alicia and Nora were….hugging?

It was none of her business. She should really sit down and open up a textbook and focus on her studies and not be walking across the courtyard right now.

"Hi?" Wren cast a look between the two girls.

"Hullo Wren," Alicia said, the words coming out a bit muffled because of the sweet she was chewing. Wren turned her attention to Nora, squinting at her cousin as if that would explain why she was suddenly such close friends to Alicia. Alicia, Wren's dorm mate, whom Nora had had maybe three classes with in her entire Hogwarts career.

As both girls looked at Wren somewhat expectantly, it hit her that she probably should have come up with some excuse to be coming over to say hello. "Hi," Wren repeated again, this time more as a statement than a question. "I just wanted to catch Nora, for a second."

"Yes?" Nora asked, tilting her head slightly.

Shit.

"Mum said to ask if Aunt Kathleen had sent you my color changing ink. She thinks I must have left it at your house when we got back from shopping."

Nora shook her head. "No, mum hasn't sent anything yet...I thought I saw that in your trunk?"

Shit. Shit. Wren was saved from having to attempt another lie by Alicia.

"Wait--are you two cousins? I always thought you were neighbors or met on the train."

Nora laughed heartily. "I know it's hard for me to believe this moody one is my blood," she teased, poking Wren.

"To be fair, we are practically neighbors. It's just the two houses between us," Wren said, batting Nora's hand away as the other girl continued to poke Wren in the arm.

"Blimey," Alicia shook her head. "I'm just as bad as Fred and George aren't I?"

Wren wanted to assure her that she wasn't. The fact that Alicia even knew Wren was dating Simon was purely because Wren had asked her for advice to help get dressed for their first date. The only reason Wren had known that Alicia fancied Thom was more due to Lee announcing it to the common room one afternoon at the end of last year than because of any kind of closeness between the girls. But Wren didn't get the chance because Nora spun to face her.

"Oh?" she asked, her voice going up an octave. "How's that?"

"They didn't know she was dating Simon Chambers."

“Well can’t blame them for that one,” Nora's voice returned to normal as she once more turned to Alicia, ignoring Wren's glare. “You two are never around each other.”

“Our schedules don’t match," Wren defended flatly.

Even though she wasn't facing her, Wren could see the small twinkle in Nora's eyes. “Would you say it’s…'an unavoidable conflict'?”

Wren groaned, and Nora laughed again. "Told you Wren. Divination is serious magic. Anyway," Nora flipped her plait over her shoulder. "I'm supposed to meet Arlan and Cedric so we can do some Astronomy work before lunch. Keep me updated," she added to Alicia who nodded in agreement. With that, Nora was off leaving Wren and Alicia together.

"I can't believe I didn't know Nora Randolph was your cousin!" Alicia shook her head, moving out into the courtyard. Wren followed her.

"I didn't know you were friends."

"We're not really. Or at least, we weren't," Alicia said, selecting a shady spot under a tree and sitting down. Wren hesitated before putting her own bag down and sitting beside the other girl. "We have Ancient Runes together. With Thom."

Wren's eyes widened. "Oh."

"She saw me looking miserable yesterday and made her partner switch chairs with me. Next thing I know, she's passing me toffees and I'm telling her the whole story."

Wren shook her head with a small laugh. “That sounds like Nora.”

Alicia began unpacking some parchment and books from her own bag. "There's not anything in those toffees is there? Veritaserum or something of the sort?"

Wren shook her head again. “That’s just Nora. People'll tell her anything.”

“I think we might be best mates now.” Alicia commented and Wren laughed before taking out her own work, and settling into a studious silence next to Alicia.

She hadn't planned how to get the juice into Thom Spiro' drink.

That was the primary thought running through Wren's head as she sat at the Gryffindor table, picking at her food. She had waved Alicia on to lunch before her, claiming she was just going to finish the chapter before she went in and the other girl didn't have to wait. She'd waited fifteen minutes to enter the Great Hall, sitting far along the table so as not to be seen by professors or any of the prefects who tended to group together at the middle of the table whether consciously or not.

It was about then that the thought hit her for the first time, and she had eaten most of her food and was in the final quarter or so of lunch without the faintest clue as to how to get this vial in his drink.

She couldn't very well just walk up to the Ravenclaw table and slip some in his goblet. The most interaction she'd ever had with him was holding a door open to Charms. They'd never even so much as spoken. Wren half considered dropping a knut on the floor and picking it up and handing it to him. But, passing off a knut and simultaneously pouring something into his goblet seemed just short of impossible.

Wren took a bite out of her roll, watching as more Ravenclaws came in and filled the table. She caught sight of a familiar tall and lean boy with copper hair, and her eyes lit up. Simon. She would walk over under the perfectly reasonable guise of saying hello to her boyfriend, and swap her own goblet with Thom’.

This plan quickly crashed as Simon passed Thom, picking an empty spot, naturally towards the center of the table.

Of course, Wren had considered switching her plan to a simple Pepper Breath Hex, which certainly would have put an end to his romantic endeavors at least for the next couple of days or so. But compared to her initial plan, this idea seemed so inadequate. And how could she even be sure that Alicia got to enjoy the justice? There had to be some way, some excuse, for her to switch goblets--

Of course.

It was so simple, really.

It was unlikely the teachers would expect it. If anything, it'd be written off as an unhappy accident from Herbology. If only he had properly corked his vial or used gloves to pass it along like Professor Sprout had said. Quickly glancing around to see if anyone was looking at her, which of course they weren't, Wren pulled the Venomous Tentacula juice from her bag and poured it in her own cup.

Subtly, she took her wand out of her pocket and with another quick glance up at the professor's table, tapped her own goblet, muttering the spell.

She peered inside and noticed her cup was slightly emptier than it had been.

She'd switched them. A rush of victory swelled in Wren's chest and she almost wished that someone near her would give her a high five.

It took five minutes to determine that her plan worked. A small commotion rose at the Ravenclaw table which seemed like normal lunch nonsense before the group of boys around Thom parted. Wren watched as Thom’s skin slowly shifted from its beautiful shade of lilac to a darker lavender. Giggles began to echo through the Great Hall as Thom’s distress grew more and more apparent. Wren cast a quick look up at the professors' table. Professor Snape looked particularly unamused, but Dumbledore had a small quirk of his lips.

Wren took this as permission for herself to smile as Thom’s friends rushed a now violet Thom Spiro out of the hall and towards, undoubtedly, the Hospital Wing. Sensing this was as good a time as any to dismiss from lunch, the food vanished from the table, and the students began to file out. Wren picked up her bag, ready to go to Transfiguration and feeling particularly pleased with herself as all around her students whispered about that purple Ravenclaw!

"Fine work, Collings." Wren nearly jumped out of her skin, fumbling her books. She succeeded in catching them back onto her arms, but one slid out, bouncing against the ground in front of her. Before she could bend over to retrieve it, one of the twins scooped it up and placed it on top of his own, significantly shorter stack of books. If two books could be called a stack.

"What?" Wren asked, her head turning to each of the twins.

"I was wondering what you were up to in Herbology," Fred, the one who was not holding her book, remarked.

"Sorry, you've lost me." Wren shrugged and gave a jerky shake of her head.

Fred gave her a wolfish grin. "Have I?" He waved his wand, and the empty vial shot out of her bag and into his hand. Because of course he could do nonverbal spells already. He wiggled it in front of her, and Wren snatched at it, surprising herself by actually wrenching it from his hands.

Wren stuffed it back into her bag, glaring at him--although the fact that he was absolutely correct took all of the heat out of her look. "That's for potions."

"And apparently poisoning Ravenclaw dickheads," Fred remarked.

"I didn't poison him."

She did. Technically.

"I don't even understand why you think it was me." She succeeded in making her voice slightly more casual this time which did nothing but make the boys' smiles grow.

"It's not a suspicion," Fred dismissed. " I know it was you. Saw you in Herbology."

"There's a plant that does that?" George asked with widened eyes.

"Apparently the Venomous Tentacula," Fred said. "Sprout said it was a poisonous juice, but I never reckoned I'd actually see someone poisoned with it."

"Stop saying I poisoned him!" Wren hissed.

George's brow wrinkled. "Is there another word for it?"

"Empoisoned?" Fred suggested.

"Envenomed?"

"Would this count as drugging?"

Wren brushed past the twins, entering the Transfigurations classroom. They followed her in laughing.

Alicia looked up from where she and Angelina were gathered together giggling. "Wren!" she called, waving her over quickly. Wren approached, dropping her books off at her desk along the way and trying very hard to keep the smile off of her face, seeing Alicia positively beaming.

"Tell me you didn't miss it."

"Thom Spiro turning bright purple? How could I?"

"Merlin, it was glorious," Alicia exclaimed looking happily up at the ceiling as if attempting to thank Merlin himself up in heaven. When she looked back down, her eyes fell on the Weasley twins who had followed Wren over. "You two, you did this, didn't you?"

"Us? No," George shook his head.

"We'd never dope a student," Fred added, pausing for a second. "That's the word we're going with, right?"

George shook his head. "Doesn't seem quite right. I still think poison's the best fit."

Alicia's face creased in confusion, and perhaps if Wren hadn't seen fit to cast a dark look at the two, the other girls might have assumed they were lying.

"Wren Collings, what did you do?" Angelina asked, and Wren's face went slack with surprise. It was just her luck that Angelina, the one observant enough to have taught Wren and Alicia how to tell the twins apart, would have caught the look.

"Me?" Wren asked, perhaps too defensively because now Alicia's eyes were on her.

"Wren," Alicia looked at her wide-eyed. "Did you....?"

Wren made a sound of disbelief. "You think I poisoned a Ravenclaw student? I'm dating a prefect! A Ravenclaw one."

"You did!" Alicia gasped, grabbing Wren into a tight hug. "You're bloody brilliant. Honestly, Wren. I could kiss you."

"Doubt she'd let you," Fred quipped.

Alicia released Wren who stepped back, taking her book from George and hitting Fred with it. "So violent, Collings," he flinched away laughing. "They're going to lock you up in Azkaban. You maniac."

"So if he wasn't poisoned," Angelina said, "What exactly happened to him?"

All eyes fell on Wren. "He didn't wash his hands properly after handling the Venomous Tentacula juice in Herbology today. Or maybe the cork wasn't on right and some got on his skin," she shrugged. "Professor Snape said it happens every year."

Fred opened his mouth to remark but was cut off by Professor McGonagall walking in, signaling to the students to stop talking and find their seats. Her gaze fell on Fred.

“Mr. Weasley, as you are not taking this class, please find your way to the door.”

Fred gave McGonagall a salute, and turned to leave, making sure to gesture to Wren that he had his eyes on her before heading out of the room. Wren's cheeks tinged pink as she made her way to her desk.

The light poisoning might have been a mistake.

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x oc #fred weasley x f!oc #weasley twins #weasley twins fic #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fic #harry potter book 4 #harry potter and the goblet of fire #ocappreciation #the fool #oc: wren collings #oc: nora randolph #series: the fool

41 notes · View notes

academiadaisies · 3 years

Text

my struggles with studying

I don’t expect a lot of people to read this, and I’ll probably end up embarrassed to have typed this all up and posted it by tomorrow, but I think it’s important for me to get this out and away from myself.

I appreciate anyone who reads this, and welcome completely anyone who is/has been in a similar situation to me and wants to talk about it or has some tips. I don’t have a lot of people to talk to about it, I definitely feel like anyone I’m close to will not be a lot of help, and I don’t want to be a mental burden, with them knowing my problem, wanting to help, but not knowing what to do, and blah blah blah... Just know, anyone is completely welcome to reach out to me. I know a lot of people say that online, but I’m just a little cancer moon, cancer rising ;). I’ve got ears and struggles too. Sometimes things are difficult. :)) <3

School has always been my demise. I was basically a corpse just going class to class, making little contribution and writing down what the powerpoint said. I would zone out - not realising at all, come back to myself and suddenly the whole class was doing work, and I would have to swallow my pride, interrupt the person next to me and ask what we were supposed to do.

But my nights were wasted too. I guess I was never really taught to study, and everything I had tried for myself never seemed to work. But I didn’t try often. I remember coming home and turning on my computer to watch the next episodes of my show of the week, my mind in a dull and empty buzz, and next thing I knew it was midnight.

Growing up there was no schedule or routine. No one was really checking I had done my homework, no one checking I was showered or that I had brushed hair. There were no rules either. No specific screen time, no food rules, no bedtime. I know why, my mum was a very hard worker, having a daughter, a job, and university, and I am so grateful for her. She was busy. But it just meant I never knew much discipline. There was no structure, but I wasn’t forgotten. There was no food in the house, but there was money, and I - having no sense of diet - would spend more than was good for me on junk; a six pack of crisps a day, frozen pizza... and today that has never ended, it’s something of an addiction now. The lack of restraint and discipline is apparent everywhere in my life.

In school is where it is at it’s absolute worst. It’s not even an issue of my intelligence. The absolute last thing I want to come across as is conceited, but I did better than I deserved my first two years of high school exams having never studied for them, except maybe a bit of rereading and desperate attempts to memorise the night before. I passed everything, bar one, and sometimes with A’s.

But last year was inarguably my worst year ever, and it has bled into this year too. My attendance was below 50%, I came in maybe two or three days a week, sometimes only finally getting the motivation to show up in the afternoon, and even then I would hide away in pupil support classes, still not doing any work. My mum phoning me and screaming down the line as soon as she got the absent text. Me not knowing how to explain that I just couldn’t physically force myself to get up and ready. I started with 5 subjects and finished with 2, both of which I initially failed, but those grades were redacted because people argued the SQA were not grading fairly, basing grades on location instead of merit, and so I scraped by with two C’s. I absolutely would not have passed if not for the pandemic.

This year is hard to tell where I would be in a normal situation. I like to believe it was going to be so much better. The idea of leaving high school and entering college*. It was a fresh start. I was supposed to get my work done the day it was handed out, I was supposed to be more extroverted, and become a leader like I always wanted. But, of course, it’s all online. I think a major benefit of it is I don’t have much excuse not to be in class anymore. I can (and usually do) wake up minutes before the class starts, and do it all from bed, so if I was left to my own devices to get myself there and back, I’d bet my attendance has skyrocketed from what I it would have been. Though, my college is quite far, and I think my mum seeing to that I was on a bus, or even not in the house when she has to leave, would have been enough to ensure I was there too. If it was in person I would have no where to hide too. I wouldn’t get to have my camera off and play games during classes and not take notes, the lecturers would see. I’d have to take notes and I don’t usually do that. I wish I had. But then that just begs the question of would it be a repeat of high school? Would I be a corpse that goes through college classes blankly instead of high school ones? I really don’t know what to think. But today my college work is suffering. I have seven vital pieces of work long overdue, and I think the weight of all of them on my brain stops me from doing even one.

*If you’re not familiar with the system here, college is basically a stage after high school but below university in Scotland, that not everybody goes to. I’m not sure the school systems everywhere in the world but it’s not the equivalent of sixth form college in England, or what’s called college in the US, which would be university here. I’m sorry if this sounds dumb because there’s probably this everywhere in the world but I just want to clarify what stage I’m at exactly. I’m taking a HNC which is kind of the equivalent of first year university.

And so it leads me to believe I have ADD/ADHD. I really am not about to self diagnose. Although it might be enough for some, I often worry I’m a bit of a paranoid person, and that I like to jump to the most “extreme” conclusions, but I don’t think my livelihood makes it totally unlikely.

I find myself devoting my time and what motivation I have to things that just don’t matter. I’ve memorised maps of the US, Europe, Scotland and Ireland. I took up interests in religion and astrology, buying crystals as if they were coming to save me like all the TikToks say. I’ve taught myself bits of piano, British Sign Language, chess, Teeline shorthand and Morse code, just to give up. I even made it to 100 days on Duolingo learning Scottish Gaelic before I stopped that too. Engrossed in wide varieties of things that I’d love to be great at, abandoning it because I’ve decided I’m bored.

But the worst waste of my time is always spent on my phone. I am a huge advocate for downtime, not every single second has to be productive. But it’s never good to have a 12 hour daily screen time average.

I can never concentrate either. I can’t force myself to. As I write this I have an essay due I’ve had for a month, and I’m going to have to do it all tomorrow. I don’t understand why I can’t physically force myself to get it done. I always think, “why am I on TikTok when I have an essay due?” And I never really have a reason. Even my driving instructor told me to get tested because, especially nearing the end of the lessons, my attention starts to waver, and I find her having to change gears for me sometimes, and warning me to stop looking at whatever might pass by.

I have a little list of priorities in my mind too. I keep reminding myself that I have this essay and this assignment to do, but I also have ideas of starting a blog or reading a book. The school work is first in the list of priorities, I know it needs to be done first and so I take it to the extreme and can’t seem to do anything meaningful at all until it’s gone. Of course, it never is gone, I never do it, and I find myself scrolling social medias all day, a perfectly anodyne time waster. No substance and no thoughts.

But I’m a perfectionist too, with very little confidence. I can tell part of me puts it off because it needs to be as good as it possibly can be, and another part tells me I’ll start it later, I’ll feel better about it later. I have big ideas, that if only I could force myself to do, would be great, but the idea of it not being good enough only puts me off. I’d not do the work until it’s at the point where the excuse is “it’s only bad because I didn’t give myself enough time to do it,” because of the fear of the possibility “it’s bad because I’m bad at it.”

Part of my inability to really do anything I think also had to do with depression. ADD/ADHD makes my life chaos. My room is a mess, there is no organisation or structure in my day, there is no motivation to fix it, no understanding of how to fix it. I’m a very intuitive person, because I have to be. Any decision I make is unknown to me until it’s happening really. I can’t plan when I’m starting work, sometimes I just have to hope I get the motivation to open my laptop. I think depression feeds off the ADD/ADHD symptoms. My room is messy because I can’t be organised, then my mindset worsens because I have such a terrible, unlivable space with no motivation to do anything about it, and it just stays that way. I can’t concentrate long enough to do work, then my mindset worsens because it means I have work overdue, that will have bad consequences, people disappointed in me, and etc, etc. I’m sorry, I don’t think I’m articulating myself well here. I’m intuitive in decisions but I’m also an overthinker. Or maybe just more of a worrier. I don’t do the work and so, every time my phone pings I jump and check cautiously because I fear it’s my lecturer messaging me that I’m off the course. The depression really took a terrible toll on my life. I won’t get too into it but I can hardly talk to friends, find the motivation to shower, or even go outside. All I find myself doing is lying in bed staring at a screen. I don’t know what else I can really do about it.

And the worst part is, in my mind, I have myself convinced that it’s not even that bad. That it’ll be okay tomorrow, I’ll change tomorrow, as if I’m not long past the point of this just being a little off day.

But one thing I do I know is a symptom of ADD/ADHD, which consumes my whole mind, is my hyperfixation. I won’t go too deep but basically for just over a year it’s been an honestly unsubstantial book I read. Loved by many, but nothing special, in comparison. I’ve only read it maybe twice all the way through but it never leaves my mind. I relish in any and all fan works, stalking the ao3 works, refreshing the tumblr tag. I can just stand and jump and pace, while listening to one song on repeat, thinking about the characters in all kinds of scenarios for hours on end. I can imagine the main character as me in everything I do; as I pick up a book from my bookshelf, as I walk my dog, as I lay down at night. I constantly compare myself to him too, feeling bad that I’m not as similar or good. I hate it. I don’t know if I even like the book anymore, I don’t think it’s possible to tell, I’m just obsessed with it.

I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it really. The NHS don’t diagnose ADHD in adults, and I’m only 18. I’ve been this way my whole life but no one ever paid much attention to it. When I told my mum I think I have depression, she laughed at me, then got really angry, saying I’m not depressed just lazy, before buying me flowers and telling me she was worried I was going to hurt myself. Now I feel like I can’t speak about anything serious like this rationally because she looks for every reason that there is no problem, and if there is it’s the worst possible case, and “oh I’ve been a terrible mum.”

I don’t understand my problem. I have big dreams and goals for my life, I know what I am doing now will never get me anywhere but still that knowledge is not enough to get me to do what I need to. I’ve even written this post over eight days, for all the distractions and lack of motivation I’ve had to finish it. It’s a never ending cycle, but I really hope having this out there now will spark something in me. I’m sure this will make someone feel better about their situation now too, and that’s totally okay! If it can help someone, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I’m sorry I probably brought up a lot of completely irrelevant stuff, and went into tangents at times, but I just wanted to stress how it all plays into each other. They’re all connected, which brings a lack of motivation and discipline to my life and my work. I just want to let it all go.

Again, I really don’t think many people will read this but anyone is completely welcome to message. If anyone has some tips for people who can just never concentrate, or also anyone who is in social sciencey type courses (psychology, sociology, politics esp) and has some tips for doing that too I’d be so grateful. :) <3 (also this is a repost because I tried posting last night but it wouldn’t go to the tag, hope it works this time)

#studyblr #study #studying #student

4 notes · View notes

blogohio492 · 3 years

Text

Holdem Manager Promo Code 2017

Holdem Manager Promo Code 2017 Download

Holdem Manager Promo Code 2017 50% Off

Apr 05, 2011 April 5, 2011 Holdem Manager Promo Code admin Holdem Manager Small Stakes edition is available to the smaller limit players. Get your 30 day free trial of HM2 today! Holdem Manager Promo Code provides the best place to get information on how to get copies of Holdem Manager Pro and Omaha Manager Pro for free. There are a lot of websites that offer this fantastic poker tracking software for free or at a big discount. Category Archives: Holdem Manager Promo Code. Holdem Manager 3 and Omaha Manager 3 Released! January 5, 2020 Holdem Manager Promo Code admin.

People can find numerous options online to consider and shop at Ellevatenetwork, using online coupon codes and discounts. These coupons allow people to make the right choices and save big every time.

Below is the Easy 3 Step process to get your savings now! Apply your code and check whether your discount was reflected and continue your checkout. If you have any questions about using your coupons online, please contact Ellevatenetwork.com Customer Service.

Add the Item to your shopping cart. Confirm that you are buying what you want, and that it fulfills any requirements to qualify for the Ellevatenetwork promotion code you want to use.

Go through the ellevatenetwork.com checkout process. At each page, scan the page for a coupon code or promotion code option. Copy and paste the Ellevatenetwork coupon code in the box next to the product and click 'Apply' or 'Submit'...

Scan your shopping cart to confirm that the coupon code was properly entered and is reflected in your total price. The Ellevatenetwork coupon discount will adjust your order total. Some sellers also offer Thank. If not, navigate back through the checkout process and try again.

Here are the products I either am involved with or use on a regular basis. Some of the links are affiliate links, meaning I will earn a small commission when you click on them. If you enjoy my site, I would greatly appreciate it if you could use the links. Thank you!

I have produced numerous poker training videos and webinars throughout the last few years. Topics range from winning $317,000 in an online tournament to increasing your levels of aggression in order to crush your opponents to group coaching sessions that are tailored to each specific student. No matter your skill level or bankroll, I am confident you can learn a ton about poker from these exclusive training products.

PokerCoaching.com is my new interactive poker training site. It features hand quizzes where I explain why each option is right or wrong, a monthly in-depth homework question, and a monthly webinar where I personally review every student’s homework answers. Also, the Inner Circle offers even more one-on-one poker coaching through a least four office hours each month where you can get on the line and discuss your poker problems with me. Check out this video demonstrating PokerCoaching.com that shows you everything the basic membership package offers.

Get my audiobooks for FREE! I recently spent a ton of time recording the audiobook version of nine of my best-selling books in a super hi-tech sound studio. It was a long, awesome experience. I learned to read out loud pretty well! Seeing how you can get two of my audiobooks for FREE, you have no reason not to give them a listen! With any luck, my voice will not put you to sleep. I hope you enjoy them.

I wear 3bet clothing whenever I play poker. The clothes are super comfortable. Players who also wear 3bet clothes on a regular basis include Phil Hellmuth, Antonio Esfandari, Brian Rast, Scott Clements, Joseph Choeng, and many more. Most of the clothing has been designed by the poker pros. 3bet.com.

CrushLivePoker.com is a poker training site designed using live poker footage instead of primarily online hand histories. I make a monthly video for their series Crush Live Poker Tournaments. If you play live poker, I suggest you sign up for a FREE one-month membership. Be sure to use promo code JLA304. You will not be disappointed.

AdvancedPokerTraining.com offers numerous interactive poker quizzes that actively teach you to improve your game. I recently made a series of interactive quizzes for them discussing how I play sit n’ go tournaments. You can test your skills against various intelligent bots and see if you do can better than the pros. AdvancedPokerTraining.com.

Eventually, all tournaments devolve into a push or fold game. If you know how to play these situations perfectly, you will crush your opponents in the long run. Fortunately, ICMizer will teach you these skills. In addition to being a robust ICM calculator, ICMizer offers an amazingly useful SNG Coach feature that will pinpoint your weaknesses so you can practice the things you do not know. If you play tournaments, I strongly suggest you give ICMizer a try. Click here to see a video of me using the SNG coach feature. Let me know how you do when you give it a try!

I recently started using PokerSnowie, a poker program that aims to teach you to play fundamentally sound no-limit hold’em and I am really happy with the results. During my first hour of play with PokerSnowie, I plugged two leaks that I didn’t even know I had. I was playing too many small pairs from early position and 4-betting a bit too often. Click here to watch the video of me finding these leaks using PokerSnowie.I strongly suggest you find your leaks by trying the program for FREE for a 10-day here: PokerSnowie.

Holdem Manager Promo Code 2017 Download

I have used Hold’em Manager to track my online play ever since the program came out many years ago. Even though the games have evolved significantly over the last 10 years, Hold’em Manager has always been my go-to analytic tool that is constantly running. This is the program that puts all of the stats on your screen that will allow you to play numerous tables with ease. If you are playing online poker without Hold’em Manager, you simply are not doing it right.

Looking for backing for online poker? I am now part of one of the worlds largest and most successful stables, Pocarr! Apply here to take your career to the next level. With world class coaching and all the resources required to enhance your game, moving up in stakes and reaching your poker goals is just one click away. Be sure to tell them I sent you!

Holdem Manager Promo Code 2017 50% Off

InstaPoker is a poker quiz app for your mobile device that allows you to test you skills and see if you are capable of making the same plays as world class professionals such as myself, Antonio Esfandari, Huck Seed, and Dan O’ Brein. I have lots of hand packs available that will keep you studying for a long time.

1 note · View note

steebharringt0n · 4 years

Text

dream a little dream of me

as if navigating through pits and perils of high school is bad enough, your life gets thrown in a whirlwind when the universe chooses the last person you’d ever thought to be your soulmate - the red power ranger

pairing: jason scott x reader

warning: like a couple of curse words?

a/n: @mattysheelies and I cranked out some of our favorite AUs the other day and we fell in love with this concept. this is my first time writing Jason so I hope I did him justice. comments are super appreciated! also i went WAY overboard with this so sorry to the mobile readers!

---

You can remember the exact night they began to happen. It was a warm spring night in Angel Grove, your bedroom window was slightly cracked open letting in a cool breeze to combat the growing heat that was starting to take over the small town. You were wearing your favorite pair of green cotton shorts and your oversized Angel Grove High sweatshirt.

You remember texting Trini right as your eyes started to become heavy, a conversation surrounding how gross Mr. Lawson from History class is. The last thing yours eyes saw before they found comfort in the darkness of your eyelids was your clock, large red numbers that flashed 10:32

There are four stages of sleep, you had quickly surpassed the first stage and took a nose dive into the second stage where it would become harder to wake one up. The third stage of sleep is commonly known as deep-sleep, where one would sleep through a thunderstorm, an alarm clock, or other environmental stimuli.

But the fourth stage, the dream stage, is where things started to get interesting.

You lived in a society where one was destined to a soulmate - like a red string tied to someone else, you were meant to be with someone for the rest of your life. It was a comfort knowing that there was someone out there just for you, like a missing puzzle piece. The only way one could know anything about their soulmate was through dreaming - their memories became your dreams and vice versa.

When you entered the dreaming stage of sleep you found yourself suddenly thrown into what felt like a never-ending action movie.

You couldn’t move, just watch from your soulmates eyes - as if you were behind them. You were kicking, punching, fighting the familiar monsters that appeared on the television news station a couple days ago. Your heart sped up during this time, you twitched in your sleep with every hit your soulmate would receive.

The one thing that struck you however, was his red armor. He briefly glanced down at his hands when you caught a glimpse of it. Then came his nickname.

“Red! Let’s go!”

Through his eyes you saw the pink Power Ranger speaking to him. He was suddenly then surrounded by the rest of the Power Rangers, all of them in a fighting stance, standing firmly by his side as they prepared to battle whatever monsters came next.

You awake with a jolt, gasping for air as your eyes frantically scanned your bedroom. You placed a hand on your chest, trying to calm your beating heart. You whipped your head towards your clock, it blinked 3:23 AM.

You run your fingers through your hair, your mind racing as it tried to gather bits and pieces of the vivid dream you just had. You stayed up the rest of the night, restless and anxious from the memories that ran through your head. In the end, before you succumbed back to sleep, there were two undeniable truths,

One, your soulmate lived in Angel Grove, and two, he was a fucking Power Ranger.

You awoke 3 hours later for school. Your head still reeling from the night before. You felt like a balloon, holding in air that was about to burst - you had to tell someone about this, someone that the person you were meant to be with for the rest of your life was a super-fucking-hero.

You dashed your way to Angel Grove High, weaving in and out of traffic. As you stepped into the halls you spotted Trini by her locker. Trini had always been a good friend to you through your middle school years, and you were thankful that the both of you kept the friendship strong throughout the years. You quickly walked over to her, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into a hidden corner. She looks at you perplexed by your alarmed behavior.

You wait for a couple of students to pass by you before you could tell her the news. You turn to face her, grabbing her by the shoulders,

“Trini, it happened”

She shakes her head, her face is twisted in concern, “What?! What happened?!”

A grin spreads on your lips like a cheshire cat, “The dreams, they’ve begun”

She thinks for a moment before she continues to talk. The dreams happen to everyone, just at different stages. For some they begin earlier, for some they may not begin until their late twenties. But you? Right in the thick of junior year. You can see the cogs working in her head, until it's as if a light bulb goes off. Her brown eyes slowly widen, and her mouth gapes open.

“Oh my god! No way!”

You squeal in confirmation, nodding your head furiously at her. But suddenly, you grow quiet. You pull her in closer, as if what you’re about to tell her could potentially end the world. It’s quite possibly your biggest kept secret, one that you’re about to entrust her with. Her face once again transforms back into one of concern as she watches your demeanor change.

You then lean down towards her ear, whispering the undeniable truth to her,

“Trini, he’s the red power ranger”

Trini has been punched, beat up, kicked down many, many times. But this? This completely blows the wind out of her like no punch before. Her fingers find your bicep, gripping them tightly, trying to hold herself steady as the realization sinks into her.

Jason, her soulmate is Jason.

She knows she has to play it cool, she’s the yellow ranger for christ sake. You completely miss the way her face freezes in shock, and not in a good way. Instead she decides to play along. When you pull back to watch her reaction, she has a soft smile on her face, her eyebrows raised in complete surprise.

“Oh wow! Y/N! That’s so exciting!”

What more can she say? She has to be a supportive friend.

Right as you’re about to continue the celebration with her, Jason appears out of the corner. He stands at a tall 5’7, built sturdy with his signature blonde curl that hangs over his forehead. He has blue eyes that could give the pacific ocean a run for its money and a smile that could melt the coldest hearts. You glance up to meet the tall figure that cast a shadow over you and Trini, and instantly your heart starts to race.

It wasn’t like you had a crush on Jason Lee Scott for practically your whole life. Jason was untouchable, he was like some mythical god in your eyes. But you both ran in different cliques, different hierarchies. Your relationship with Jason purely consisted of stolen glances - and his name doodled all over your notebook.

However, you soon came to realize a couple months ago that he only hung around 4 people, Trini, Kimberly, Billy and Zach.

This group of people perplexed you, they all ran in different cliques and yet they spent lunch together, spent study hour together, and you’re pretty sure you’ve caught them at movies together as well. The dynamic didn’t make sense to you, but then again, not a lot of things in life tend to make sense.

Jason gives you a smile, one where he bares his teeth to you, “Hey Y/N, Hey Trini, can I talk to you for a sec, I just had a question about the homework in Mr. Gibson’s class”

Homework in Mr. Gibson’s class is code for, we need to go over what we did right, and what we did wrong in our last mission. It was a rule he implemented after Rita’s demise and Jason takes his role as the leader of the Power Rangers very seriously.

Trini quickly catches wind of what he means, stepping out of the corner and standing by his side. “Yeah sure, I’ll walk with you to the library”

Trini is currently battling with herself in her head. Should she tell Jason that his soulmate is literally inches away from him? Or should she keep this a secret? Either way, the big reveal should ultimately come from Jason - not from her.

Trini turns her attention back to you, not forgetting that you were still standing there. “Y/N, we can talk later in Mr. Lawson’s okay?”

With a soft smile donned on your lips, you nod at her, “Yeah, of course. I’ll catch you there later.” you pause, not forgetting that Jason was still there. Your heart speeds up as you make eye contact with him - you feel like a blushing school-girl (which you actually are) “I’ll see you around Jason”

He smiles warmly at you, “I’ll see you around Y/N”

You watch as the both of them disappear down the hall, a sense of wistfulness enters you - wishing that you could so desperately switch places with Trini. With a low sigh and your eyes cast down, you turn your attention back to finding your way to your locker, not looking forward to starting the school day.

When Trini and Jason arrive in the library, they quickly go to the back study room that’s always reserved under Jason’s name. It’s the only place where they can discuss their plans in private with the rest of the group without anyone interrupting them. Always under the guise of ‘we have a large semester project to work on’ the librarians don’t bat an eye when Kimberly, Billy and Zach arrive not even a minute later.

Trini shuts the door, her anxiety is starting to gnaw at her and her teammates can tell - it’s a ranger thing.

Jason waits for Trini to take a seat around the square table so he can begin his long awaited speech on how they should have cornered those monsters far away from the public, so that for next time innocent people don’t get caught in the mess, but when he catches wind of Trini’s face and how she’s gone from all smiley to something is terribly wrong, he takes a seat instead.

Kimberly’s eyes scan the rest of the group, wondering if they know what’s going on with her. But they all share the same blank stare.

“Okay Trini, what’s wrong, you’re freaking us all out here”

She paces back and forth, her eyes not meeting her teammates. She fumbles with her fingers, it’s a nervous tick that helps her keep calm during disastrous moments. When she doesn’t answer Kimberly, Jason takes charge.

“Trini, seriously what’s wrong? Is everything okay? Do you - “

She stops her pacing and turns to face them, all of them eager yet somewhat anxious to reveal whatever has been eating away at her for the past couple of minutes.

“Y/N’s soulmate is red Power Ranger - it’s you Jason, you’re her soulmate.”

The sentence slips out of her mouth like word vomit. Everyone tends to have the same reaction, Kimberly looks absolutely flabbergasted, Billy’s eyes just widened, Zach lets out an incredulous laugh, and Jason, well Jason just stays quiet, Trini’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

“Uhm, okay, wow … that is big news” Kimberly is the first to speak, but the tension in the room still hasn’t left.

Zach reaches over to Jason from across the table and gives him a pat on his back, “Nice man! She’s a cute one”

But Jason is stunned, frozen - his eyes are glued to the floor.

He knows that this means - he’s seen Spider-Man a million times. It’s the same reason why Peter Parker keeps Mary-Jane in the dark, to protect her, because he knows his enemies will come straight to her.

Logically he can’t tell her, he refuses to tell her. Once his enemies catch wind of who his soulmate is, Y/N will forever be a target, and if in the future they were to have a family? His family will be targeted and that’s a risk he refuses to take.

Realistically, he knows he has to tell her. The dreams have already started a week ago for him but he’s kept them to himself because he couldn’t quite figure out who the mysterious girl was. He lets out a small chuckle at his previous dreams - they’ve all been memories of him through her. He knows that Y/N has a crush on him, most of his dreams involved her staring at him from afar, doodling his name in her notebook, peeking at him through corners. It’s almost endearing at how much of a love-struck fool she is for him.

In the beginning he couldn’t make sense of who it was, it was just brief memories of a girl staring longingly at him but now that Trini has revealed who is soulmate is, the pieces of the puzzle are starting to come together and it’s all making sense.

“Jason, are you going to tell her? You can’t tell her, with great power comes great - “ Billy begins to ramble to him. Billy is a known comic book expert and he too knows what great dangers comes with telling loved ones their secret.

“Yes, I know Billy” Jason cuts him off, his tone turns irritable and he hates that he doesn’t have a solution for this.

Billy’s shoulders sink, and Jason takes notice. He turns back to his friend, a thin smile on his lips as he regrets his sharp tone with him. “I’m sorry Billy, I’m just …

“Scared?” Kimberly offers. Jason nods at her - she knows that the inevitable will happen to her too, to all of them but this is uncharted territory and their number one mission as being Power Rangers is to keep humanity safe - especially their loved ones.

“But you have to tell her man, she’s going to find out sooner or later, why not just rip the band-aid off now?” Zach is always the optimist of the group, so Jason is not surprised when Zach tells him to go for it.

Jason stands up and faces his team, his blue eyes scan each one of them. He’s scared, no terrified of what’s to come next. The last thing he ever wants to do is to put anyone in danger, especially his soulmate. He lets out a deep exhale through his nose and he plasters on a smile for the sake of his team.

“Don’t worry guys, I’ll figure it out”

They can read his false smile from miles away, but he is their leader and they trust him - like they have all this time and Jason never fails his team.

The rest of the day goes by smoothly and it’s finally last period - the only class Jason shares with you.

He likes to get to class early to make sure he’s caught up on all the homework, but this time he’s here early for a different reason; to sit right next to you.

You walk into class and almost stumble on your way to your desk when you realize that Jason Scott is sitting in the seat where Nicole Hardy typically sits. Your body language becomes timid, you slowly walk to your seat, eyes gazed down to the floor. Jason notices it an instant and holds back the chuckle that is bubbling in his throat - your crush on him is so obvious.

You take a seat and stare straight ahead. Usually Nicole would make small talk with you but she’s moved to a seat behind (which she was not too happy about) and now you’re stuck sitting there in silence, not sure what to talk about with the blue-eyed blonde sitting next to you. There’s still a good 5 minutes before class starts so you just open your notebook and pretend to catch up on homework (and pray that Jason doesn’t see his name doodled with hearts all over the next page)

Jason turns his attention to you, he notices how your (Y/H/C) hair frames the delicate shape of your face, and how your teeth find purchase on your bottom lip when you’re deep in concentration. He finds it cute, charming almost. You could feel his eyes burning holes in you, but you pretend not to notice him staring. It isn’t until he speaks to you that you turn to face him,

“Last nights assignment sucked huh?”

You bark out a laugh and you want to mentally kick yourself for borderline sounding like a seal. He watches as you fidget in your seat, pulling back a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yeah! Those poetry terms weren’t too fun”

“Iambic pentameter? Like how am I going to use that in the future?” he jokes.

You laugh, “Tell me about it, I am never going to use blank verse, or enjambment in my life. Those terms kill me”

His laughter joins you and the joyful laughter catches the attention of Mrs. Gerald, an older, wirey, short lady whose thick glasses perch comfortably on her nose. She scowls at the both of you,

“Mr. Scott and Miss. Y/L/N, since you both seem to be having such a grand time together why don’t you two work together for next weeks project”

She stands up and walks over to the both of you, handing you both the assignment. “It’s due next Friday. Keep the laughter down or I’ll ask you both to hand in a thousand word paper on how poetry is essential in the modern world” she snaps at the both of you.

The smiles from both of your faces is instantly wiped away as she walks back to her desk. The assignment is in your hand but your head is elsewhere - you’ve been assigned to partner up with Jason Scott and you feel like screaming with joy. Jason offers you a sympathetic smile and you return it as Mrs. Gerald starts her lesson.

The rest of the period goes by smoothly, Jason can’t help but to stare at you every now and then. He starts to pick up on your little idiosyncrasies, like how your foot taps against the desk, how you would frown when you wouldn’t understand something, or the way you tapped your pencil 3 times against your notebook, stop and think, then continue to write.

As the final bell rings, Jason stands from his desk, pulling his backpack over his shoulder, “Hey we can meet at my house this Saturday to work on this?” he asks, waving the assignment in his hand.

You fumble around with your notebook, trying to play it cool and calmly putting your stuff away, “Yeah, sure”

“Here, let me give you my number”

He rips off a piece of paper from the notebook in his other hand and quickly scribbles down 10 numbers. He hands it over to your shaky hands (your palms are sweating and you hope he doesn’t notice)

“Text me whenever I'm free all day Saturday”

He hopes he is, he hopes that no weird outer space monsters or creatures disrupts this time with you.

You nod at his statement, and he gives you a final smile and wave and you watch him walk out of the classroom. You let out a large exhale, one that you’d be holding in practically all class. You completely forget about the fact that your destiny is tied to the red ranger and become completely enveloped in the fact that you’re actually going to be hanging out with Jason Scott this weekend.

You curiously wonder if the universe has ever made any mistakes, because there is no way that the red ranger could ever make you feel the way Jason Scott does.

The rest of the week Jason is found sitting right next to you in English class and he’s more than eager to always strike up a conversation when the opportunity arises. The two of you joke about how Mrs. Gerald looks like a chicken if you squint your eyes and angled your head to the right. You exchange notes that hold in hefty discussions about music, movies and the latest happenings around Angel Grove.

You can hardly believe that Jason is actually interested in talking to you. You’re not sure what weird spell you’ve put on him but you’re actually looking forward to the end of the school day now just to hold your little conversations together.

The conversations don’t stop at school however. With his number now recorded in your phone the two of you start to text non stop - even if it’s about the most trivial things. You find yourself texting Jason instead of Trini at night now

Your red ranger dreams still don’t stop though. They’re all mostly a mesh of the same thing, lots of fighting and lots of chaos but you start to learn a little bit about the red ranger the longer your dreams are.

He’s a selfless leader, one who protects others before him. He makes sure every single person who gets caught in the crossfires is safe. You wish you had half the courage he possesses, you most admire that about your soulmate. You often wonder what he looks like behind the mask. Does he have kind eyes or a cute lopsided smile? Is he a blonde? Brunette? Or even a red-head?

Whatever he looks like, you’re certain that you’re instantly going to fall in love with him the moment your eyes land on him.

Jason finds himself in front of Zordon later in the week. He tells him about his soulmate, and how she’s this cute little thing, bashful and likable - but ponders how in the world can he keep her protected when he’s out fighting intergalactic creatures. He paces back and forth in front of his mentor, his hands shoved in his pocket and his eyes are anxiously attached to his shoes.

“I - I don’t know what to do Zordon, if I tell her then I’m just putting her in danger - she knows her soulmate is the red ranger and if one of our enemies were to find out she’s my soulmate … she’s doomed” he stops his pacing and faces Zordon. He shrugs his shoulders, slapping his hands down his side, feeling completely defeated.

Zordon stays quiet as he observes the young man. It’s been almost a year since their battle with Rita, and Zordon has seen Jason transform from a troubled, insecure boy to a fearless leader who guides his team with confidence.

“Jason, I don’t know too much about love and how it works here with humans … “ Zordon begins, “But I trust that whatever decision you make, will be the best decision for the both of you. You have guided your team in battle and have always come out successful. I trust you’ll do the same for your heart”

Jason always took Zordon’s words seriously, he had helped mentor him through his toughest times, and was a good person to seek wisdom and advice from. He felt a new found confidence within himself and felt entrusted that whatever decision he would end up making would be the right one.

Jason spent the rest of the evening gathering intel on their new nemesis - Lord Zedd. He had been sending threatening messages to the Rangers for the last couple of weeks, sending in his minions to cause chaos within Angel Grove. He knew that Lord Zedd would strike again soon, him and his team were fully prepared to take on whatever it threw at them next.

He just didn’t expect you to be caught in the middle of it all.

You found yourself walking back home from the movie theater, you and your friend Gina had plans to catch the latest chick-flick that were both dying to see. You didn’t live too far from the shopping center where the movie theater was housed, and since the days were becoming warmer, walking seemed more of a viable option for you. After the movie had finished you and Gina bid your farewells and you started the trek back to your house, cutting through a dark alleyway to save yourself some time.

You had walked through this alleyway millions of time, so you didn’t ever think that you would find yourself being cornered by strange looking creatures that seemingly appeared from the shadows.

You glanced back behind you, hoping that there would be an escape but more of them just kept appearing, growling menacingly at you.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit” you muttered to yourself as they started to draw in closer. Fear pooled in your stomach as you started to realize how close you were to your demise. They started to circle you in, like a lion hunting it’s gazelle, you closed your eyes and expected some sort of impact, but a loud voice suddenly broke their concentration off of you.

“Hey assholes! Why don’t you pick on someone your own size”

You shoot your eyes open and almost out of thin air the red Power Ranger appeared. He was perched comfortably up on the roof - waiting for the right time to intervene. Coming up from behind appeared the blue, pink, yellow and black ranger, all ready to kick some monster ass.

The monsters soon turned their attention to the rangers, completely ignoring you as you watched, with your eyes wide and full of awe, the rangers take them down.

Jason watched as his team easily defeated monster after monster. He then turned his attention to you. This was by far the worst case scenario, if Zordon hadn’t sensed Lord Zedds minions, who knows what could have happened to you.

You gazed up at the red ranger as he stood in front of you, his arms came up and he placed them on your shoulders, “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” he asked.

You shook your head, “N-No, I’m fine …”

Jason nodded at you, but before he could turn back to help out his teammates, he felt you grab his arm, “Wait! Red!”

You had to tell him, you had to let him know you were his soulmate. Jason whipped his head back towards you, and he watched as you took a shaky inhale, trying to calm your nerves, “I need to tell you red … that you’re my - “

“Soulmate, I know”

You frown at him, “You know? B-but how?”

His armored hand comes up and rests on your cheek. It feels cold but the gesture sends a warm sensation to your stomach, “I can’t tell you yet … give me time. Do you trust me?”

You nod at him. Jason gives your cheek a soft sweep with his thumb before he returns back to his teammates, finishing up whatever was left of those monsters.

You quickly take the opportunity to rush back home - but not before Jason watched you from afar, making sure that nothing else attacked you that night.

You dreamt of the red ranger again and this time it was his memories of encountering you. You awake with a smile on your face but your heart starts to feel conflicted - you were eager to spend time with Jason, but the more you dreamt about the red ranger, the more you felt like you were starting to fall for him.

Saturday shows up quicker than expected and you find yourself standing in front of Jason’s front door, your knuckle hesitantly knocks on the wood.

Jason runs to the door, opening it up and greets you with a large smile. He gestures for you to come in. You poke your head inside his house, your eyes scanning his foyer before he takes you over to his bedroom - posers decorate most of his bedroom walls, clothing strewn haphazardly around his floor, his bed messily unmade - it was a typical teenage boys bedroom.

The both of you find yourselves sitting on his bedroom floor, legs crossed, english books wide open and notebook paper lined with messy handwriting. Soft music plays in the background to combat any awkward silence the two of you might encounter, but you’re both purely concentrated on the assignment at hand.

Instinctively your hand reaches over to the pencil that’s laying between you and Jason, but instead of feeling the hard, cold wood of the pencil, you’re met with a soft, warm hand. You glance up, (Y/E/C) meets his blue and you let out an awkward laugh, pulling your hand away from his as if you’ve been caught in the cookie jar.

“M’sorry” you shyly tell him as the color red takes over your cheeks.

“No, no, it’s your pencil, you take it” he tells you, grabbing the pencil and handing it over to you. You offer him a half smile as you take the pencil from him, jotting down notes from your English book. Jason watches you as chew the end of the writing utensil, forehead puckered, lips turned into a frown. You then perform his favorite quirk, you tap the pencil three times against the piece of paper, pause, think, then continue to write.

You glance up and catch wind of Jason’s smirk on his face, amused by your little actions. You freeze up, eyes widened in fear, “Do I have something on my face?” you question him, panic laced in your tone.

He shakes his head, amused by your sense of urgency. “No, no, you just do this thing - “

“Thing?”

“Yeah,” he pauses, licking his lips before he continues, “You uh, do this cute thing where you tap your pencil 3 times, stop and think before you start to write again”

Your eyebrow quirks up at the sound of the word cute, then a smile starts to spread on your lips, “Cute huh?”

It’s Jason’s turn to become flustered, and it makes your heart swell at how bashful the blonde suddenly becomes, trying to backtrack but stumbles over his words, “Not cute! I mean, not that I think you’re not cute because you are cute, but cute in like a quirky kind of cute”

Your smile evolves into a grin, “You think I’m cute?”

Jason is internally kicking himself in the head, but he’s been caught red handed, “Ah, yeah” he lets out a laugh, shaking his head at his choice of words, “I’ve been caught”

Bravery isn’t one of your best qualities, you almost passed out once when you were forced to play a tree during one of your elementary school’s plays. You swear it’s the adrenaline that’s coursing through your blood that prompts you to do what you’re about to do next. You reach over and place your hand over his, squeezing it gently.

With fluttering eyelashes and bashful eyes you gaze up at him, “For what it’s worth, I think you’re pretty cute too” you tell him.

Jason lets out a nervous laugh, he’s surprised at himself because he rarely ever gets nervous around a girl - but you’re his soulmate for christ sake; you both are tied together by destiny, the universe specifically made you for him, and him for you.

He brushes his nerves away and he surprises you by leaning forward, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. His knuckles brush against the apple of your cheek and your breath hitches, heart starts to pound a little harder, as he scoots closer towards you.

“Is this okay?” his voice comes out like a whisper.

With a swift nod, you consent to his next move. His tongue sweeps towards his bottom lip and the next thing you know, his lips are gently brushing against yours. Jason isn’t too skilled in the kissing department, hell neither are you, but the way your mouths move together is like a perfect choreographed dance. He places his hand on your cheek, moving you closer to him. Tongues are then introduced and Jason quickly takes dominance - he tastes like mints and cinnamon and he savors the faint taste of your vanilla chapstick.

Your eyes slowly start to open when you realize you’ve been kissing Jason Scott for the past 2 minutes.

Panic suddenly shakes your core and you come back down to reality. You push him away, panting heavily as you avoid his confused gaze.

“I - I’m sorry, was that too much?” he stammers.

You quickly start to gather your things, shoving all of your books and notebooks into your backpack. “I’m sorry Jason, I can’t do this.”

He shakes his head, feeling completely confused, “Can’t do what? Kiss me?”

You swing your backpack over your shoulder and promptly stand up, towering over the frowning boy. Your shoulders slump, feeling defeated. Kissing Jason Scott was once a dream of yours, but your effort is completely fruitless because you know you’re not meant to be with him. Jason Scott isn’t your soulmate, you both are tied to completely different people so kissing him just feels … wrong.

“Jason, you’re not my soulmate. You’re meant to be with someone else” you sadly explain.

Jason’s face turns stoic, he bites his tongue back. He wants so badly to tell you that yes! You’re his soulmate, and yes! He’s the red ranger, but he hasn’t decided how to tell you yet. He’s yet to cross that bridge.

“I’m sorry Jason, I really am, but my dreams have begun and I - I just can’t do that to him” you weakly tell him.

Him, her soulmate.

Jason’s lips turn into a thin line, “No, no, I understand …”

“I’m sorry Jason, I really am” your voices falters in pitch, trying to keep your emotions at bay. But it’s useless when he gives you this look that absolutely breaks your heart. His eyes become wide and you can tell, hell you know, he’s hurt.

You can’t stand to watch him any longer so you swiftly turn your back towards him and make a bee-line to the front door.

Jason is left alone in his bedroom, his music still quietly playing in the background. His thoughts are racing a million miles a minute. He now knows he has to tell you, he needs to tell you because he’s certain that he’s falling in love with you and he can’t hold back his feelings any longer.

You head home with your heart broken, your feelings conflicted and your mind reeling. You spend the rest of your Saturday moping around the house, your body planted on the living room couch and the remote control attached to your hand. You’re casually flipping through channels, but nothing seems to pique your interest. It isn’t until the rerun of The Office you were watching suddenly cuts off to a breaking news alert, a live feed of downtown Angel Grove. Another hoard of monsters have invaded Angel Grove and they’re advising people to stay inside while the Power Rangers take care of them.

You jump off the couch, moving closer to the screen as if it’ll help bridge the distance between you two. Your eyes are glued to the TV, making sure to try to follow the Red Rangers every move. The dedicated news reporter stays a safe distance away from the tumultuous scene, but it feels as if you’re actually there. It was then your heart suddenly drops to your feet and you let out a horrified gasp.

You can clearly see a sharp object pierce through the red Rangers armor. You watch as he stumbles around, trying to regain his composure. His hands dart over to his side where his armor becomes stained with blood. The other rangers run over to the wounded man, Blue and Black throw his arms over their shoulders while Yellow and Pink finish off the last hoard.

You feel utterly helpless. You want to scream at the television screen but instead frustrated, angry tears leak from your eyes. Sleeping that night becomes impossible for you, tossing and turning all night long. Your mind is hyper-focused on his well being, but how could you even help him when you don’t know who he is?

Arriving at school the next day feels like a large burden. You’re listless, tired, and hurt. You don’t even interact with your usual friends, and you’re absolutely dreading the final period. The last person you want to see right now is Jason.

You trudge through the halls when you catch Trini, Billy, Zach and Kimberly huddled together, looks of concerns etched all over their face as they speak in hushed whispers. Trini catches a glimpse of you and perks up, the rest of the group follows - their gaze towards you is oddly sympathetic and you can’t pinpoint why. You give Trini a wave followed by a thin smile, she returns it back to you.

You enter 7th period and frown. Jason is nowhere to be seen, in fact, now that you think about it, you haven’t seen him all day. You feel relieved yet concerned - maybe he’s sick you conclude to yourself. With Jason not sitting beside you, 7th period English feels like much more of a chore, no one to talk to or to distract you from Mrs. Gerald’s monotonous lecture.

The rest of the day passes by without any incident, and you’re more than ready to tumble back into your comforter and pass out, hopefully catch a glimpse of your red ranger. Something in your gut tells you that he’s okay, but you can’t be too sure. You pop a couple of sleeping pills to help speed up the process and by 9 PM you’re completely passed out, drool leaking from the corner of your lips as light snores exit through your mouth.

The dream begins and it feels like you’re having an out of body experience. The first thing you notice is hands - actual human hands. They’re jotting notes down on a piece of paper, his legs crossed on the floor. It all looks vaguely familiar but your mind can’t seem to pinpoint it yet. This is completely different from the rest of the dreams you’ve been having. You can sense that he’s at peace now that he’s not cracking skulls and kicking ass.

The red Power Ranger is a teenager is the first thought you have.

He then reaches across the floor, aiming to grab a pencil when you see another set of hands.

Those hands look way too familiar now, you recognize that bracelet, and the black hair-tie, they currently rest on your right wrist. You can feel your heart starts to pound in your chest. His head lifts up to view the person who owns those hands and you swear, you swear it was like an electric current sent a shock through your system.

His eyes warmly gaze up towards you.

It’s you, you’re in the red Power Rangers dream.

Jason Scott is your soulmate.

You shoot your eyes open, all of your sleep gone down the drain. Your breathing becomes erratic as your mind tries to quickly piece all of the missing pieces together.

And suddenly everything just makes sense - everything in this world, in life, makes sense.

The painful realization then hits you like a load of bricks - Jason was the one who got stabbed the other night, it’s why he wasn’t at school.

You jump out of bed, stumbling to throw on a pair of sneakers as you hop around your bedroom. You toss on your Angel Grove High sweatshirt and open up your bedroom window, hopping from ledge and onto your lawns freshly mowed grass. You pull your hair up in a messy ponytail before running towards your garage and jumping into your little brothers bike - the last thing you want is your wake up your parents by starting up your car.

Your calves burn as you pedal through the town of Angel Grove, cutting through homes and alleyways, all for the boy who’d been keeping this burning secret from you this whole time.

You finally reach the white house that looks over the ocean, dropping your bike on his lawn. You make your way towards his bedroom, the only one with the large window that looks out over the coast. You peer inside the large glass and see the blonde boy laying on his bed, his eyes shut, bruises littering his cheeks where his freckles are specked around.

Your heart clenches at the sight of him looking so broken. Your fingers carefully, and quietly pull back the window, opening it enough for you to sneak in without stumbling over your feet. You land in with a quiet thud and pause for a second. When silence continues to welcome you, you start to move towards Jason’s bed, your eyes scanning him more carefully.

You sit down beside him, feeling the bed shift in weight, but he doesn’t wake up. Your emotions have been a mess lately, your heart has been tugging you in two different places, but now that everything has been pieced together, you can finally breathe. You can finally accept what the universe has been trying to tell you since you’ve started these dreams.

That Jason had been your soulmate this whole time.

With shaky fingers, you reach towards his face. You brush away his curl that dangles from his head. He feels warm compared to your cold hands, but just knowing that he’s okay, that he’s alive gives you a sense of peace. You let out a deep exhale as you softly touch his bruises, making sure not to touch them too hard.

Jason slowly stirs in his sleep, cracking his eye open. He frowns, then jumps away from your touch, startlingly you as you dart your hand away.

“W-what? Y/N? What are you doing here?” he sleepily questions you.

You give him a watery smile as your emotions start creep their way up, “Jason … it’s you, it’s been you this whole time”

Jason is still half asleep, and the words don’t quite register in his head when you tell him this. He has completely forgotten that he has a massive stab wound on his side - The rest of the Power Rangers were able to convince his parents and everyone else that he was caught in a horrific car accident. Zordon has him on bed rest for a week - he knows that’s all it’ll take to fully heal Jason and his deep physical wounds.

Jason slowly, and carefully sits up, wincing as he leans up against his headboard.

“Jason, don’t move, take it easy” you say.

He shakes his head, “No, no I’m okay, it’s not as bad, I’m healing up”

As he positions himself in a more comfortable position he starts to wake up, and it’s then he fully registers why you’re in his bedroom at 2:18 in the morning. His memories have finally lead you to him. He gives you a half smile, before he continues to talk.

“Caught me huh?”

You let out a half laugh at his lame attempt to joke about the situation, “Why didn’t you tell me Jason? Why didn’t you tell me you were my soulmate?”

There’s a hint of anger in your voice, and he understands, completely understands why you’re angry at him.

He moves his hand and places it over yours, squeezing it gently. “I couldn’t tell you. I needed to keep you safe as long as I could before I figured out how to tell you, but I guess my memories caught up with you”

You sigh heavily, “Jason, nothing is going to happen to me - “

“You don’t know that!” he angrily exclaims, “The other day you were cornered by those creatures!” he pauses before he continues, letting out a shaky exhale, “What if I can’t keep you safe?”

Your eyes desperately try to search for his blue ones, but they’re avoiding your gaze. His face is hard, but his emotions are starting to trickle out with each word he utters. Negativity invade his head space, blocking out any rational thoughts.

“Jason, that’s never going to happen and you know that.” you borderline scold him, your eyes darken with anger, the fact that that idea is instilled in his head makes you frustrated. Jason throws his hands down his side, feeling exasperated.

“Enemies will come looking for you” he begins to counter.

“So? I’ll learn to fight or something”

“What if you’re cornered like that again?”

“I’ll bring pepper spray big deal”

“What if you get kidnapped?!”

You roll your eyes, heaving out a large breath. “Jesus Jason, just stop, stop fighting what the universe has been trying to tell us for the last week.”

He throws his head back, eyes cast up on the ceiling. He knows you’re right, he just hates to admit it.

“Jason, look at me, please” you beg.

His hand is still gently placed on top of yours, so in an effort to show him that you’re in this for the long haul you place your other hand on top of his. He then slowly brings his head back down, his large blue eyes filled with emotion as they bore into yours.

“Jason Lee Scott, I love you and I am willing to fight by your side, do whatever it takes to make your job easier in protecting me, in protecting us, all of us” you gesture outside to the general public because you know that at the end of the day, his priority is to keep everyone safe - not just you.

His hard face softens as the 3 letter word leaves your mouth. His heart swells up three times the size as it beats wildly in his chest.

“You love me?”

His voice becomes childlike at the question. Almost as if he can’t believe that he can be loved by someone else besides his family.

You let out a dry laugh, tears brimming your eyes as a watery smile takes over your lips. You remove the hand that was on top of his and you bring it to his cheek, gently brushing over the bruises that decorate his face.

“Yeah you big doof, you think I’d be up at 2:30 AM for just anyone?” your tone is much more playful with him and the tension in the room slowly starts to slip away.

He lets out a laugh, leaning into your soft touch. You both share a moment of tenderness as he then leans forward and rests his forehead on yours. The two of you shut your eyes and just completely live in the moment. Forgetting what tomorrow may bring, forgetting what happened in the past, and just living in right now.

“For what it’s worth,” Jason says, a smirk slowly creeping on his lips, “I love you too

A laugh leaves your lips as he mimics the same words you told him 2 days ago. Jason then instinctively leans in closer and presses his lips against yours. He pours all his pent back emotion into the kiss, his hands promptly then cupping your face. Tongues are meshed and lips are smashed in a passionate expression of love.

“I can’t believe it was you, it was you this whole time” you breathly speak as he starts to move his lips down south, peppering small chaste kisses down your neck.

“Surprised?” he pulls away briefly, his lips are all red and swollen.

You shake your head, “Honestly, I’m way more surprised that you were my soulmate - not that you’re a Power Ranger”

Jason cocks his head and you return him a smile before you continue to explain.

“You’re a good guy Jason, you’re not the typical asshole jock at the school. I’ve seen how you’ve defended Billy, how you’ve just become this better person - everything the leader of the Power Rangers should be. I just never thought that the boy I’d been crushing on for all these years would end up being with … well with someone like me”

Jason frowns as your voice turns undeniably sad at the end. He can’t find the right words to convey his thoughts, so instead he just sweeps you into his arms. You let out a joyful squeal as he pulls you towards his side and bringing you down to lay with him. Your head nestles into his chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling you. You close your eyes and melt into his body, making sure to be mindful of the giant wound on his side.

His arm wraps around your waist as he presses his face into your hair, taking a deep inhale of the strawberry shampoo that scents your hair.

“Someone like you? Someone incredibly cute, funny, smart, loving, compassionate, kind, oh and did I mention very, very cute?”

Your giggles echos his bedroom as he starts to place kisses all over your head, “Okay, okay Scott, you can stop buttering me up”

“Just one question,” you ask, lifting your head up and propping yourself on your elbow. He looks at you amusingly, his eyebrow quirked. “How did you know I was your soulmate?”

He can’t reveal the identity of Trini, nor the rest of the rangers. It’s not his decision to make at the end of the day and he fully respects that. His mind then wanders back to his dreams, smirking at you before he speaks,

“Mmm, well your memories didn’t really do a good job of hiding your feelings towards me … subtlety isn’t really your strong suit” he says to you. Your mouth gapes, feigning hurt, and you gently jab his arm. He winces mockingly, rubbing his arm,

“Ooh ouch, you sure you’re not a Power Ranger? You hiding something from me?”

You roll your eyes, “Haha, very funny.”

Silence then nestles between the two of you. Crickets chirp in the background, the wind gently howls. The stillness of the night starts to lull you both back to sleep as you find yourself back laying in his arms. Jason’s eyes are slowly drifting shut when he hears you speak,

“Hey since I’m dating a Power Ranger does this mean I can hitch a ride in your zoid?”

His chest rumbles in laughter. “Ha - in your dreams sweetheart, in your dreams”

It was that same night as you slept in your soulmates’ arms that you decided to never question the universe again.

#jason scott #jason scott x reader #jason scott x you #jason scott fanfiction #jason scott fanfic #power rangers 2017 #dacre montgomery #i feel weirdly nervous about this but then again i'm always hard on myself SO

244 notes · View notes