#which unsurprisingly is very stressful just from working out the schedule. and I need to fit in the admin work for the volunteering stuff

[buthappysoverrated]

#hi guys so I was just working on my schedule for this term #in short I need to take 8 courses in the first two terms this year and I have six (6) this term #which unsurprisingly is very stressful just from working out the schedule. and I need to fit in the admin work for the volunteering stuff #it's my faut relaly but BY GOD #therefore I'm posting gifs of middle aged white actor <333 #ross mccall #hy speaks #follow me for more reasonable stress relief methods and excellent pacing skills tips! #also WHAT HAVE I WATCHED FOR YOU jesus christ

[lokideservesahug]

Obsessed In Love

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Pairing: Yandere!Checo Pérez x gn!reader

(Slight) Yuki Tsunoda x reader

Warnings: Yandre, obsession, dark themes ofc (all kinda subtle). Badly translated Spanish

Request: Could you do yandere! Checo Perez with male reader? 👀

Notes: I'm not quite sure how to approach male readers just yet so I tried to do a gn reader instead. Pls let me know if you want something different though. This is the first time I've tried tow rite anything like this so feedback is greatly appreciated. Also if anyone wants a second part then pls let me know

Summary: You were very happy with your job- personal assistant for Sergio Pérez. Yet unbeknownst to you, being Checo's personal assistant isn't enough for him.

Part 2

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You hadn't been at Red Bull Racing for long but from what you've experienced so far, it has been amazing. You came in at the start of the 2024 season as Sergio Pérez's personal assistant and its just great. All of the crew were lively and welcoming to you, especially Checo. You've been following F1 for a long time now (hence how you found out about the hardly advertised job opening) and have always admired Checo and his ravcracraft so it was a huge honour to work alongside him. Unsurprisingly, media days are the least strenuous for the drivers but the most difficult for the PR/media team and as someone who worked under the former but worked directly alongside a driver, you had a nice balance of stress.

You scan your paddock pass and at the familiar beeps, you start your trek to Red Bull hospitality. You decided to arrive here early today so you can get a head start on the weekend and so you can even hang around with those you don't often get time to, like the engineers etc. You walk over to your workspace and get our your ipad with the schedule for today. Looks like you'll be following Checo around from 10-12 whilst he does miscellaneous activities and jobs first thing. You check the clock next to you. 8:35. You still have a good hour and a quarter until you need to start worrying about your 'boss' coming in.

You dive into your work and begin checking emails and planning entirely for the next few races. You're engrossed in your works for what feels like hours when you hear a gentle knock on the door. "Come in." You say, whilst placing the ipad on the desk and standing up. "Oh! Checo, I must have lost track of time." You glance at the clock. 8:57. Oh, that's odd. "Good morning cariño" You smile at his warm greeting. "Morning Checo, it isn't like you to be this early. What's the occasion?" For a split second you could have sworn that he looked like he was about to protest your words but swiftly caught himself.

"I uh- just thought I'd get an early start." He gave you a half smile and you smiled at his words. "Well Mr early start, I don't think there's much to do. You'd probably be most helpful speaking to some mechanics about any further adjustments but aside from that. But you can do anything I suppose" You turn to look at him after you finish your pacing only to find him sat down on a seat in the corner of your 'office'. You go to ask him what he's doing but he leans backspace, crosses his legs and speaks before you can get any words out. The corner of his lips turn up at the tilt of his head. "What? I thought you said I could do anything?" His half sarcastic response leaves you speechless. "You won't even know I'm here querida. Unless you ask for help which I'll be happy to give." You feel your cheeks warm slightly at his words and sit doen at your desks and continue as you were when he came in.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Checo was really quite helpful and by the time you had finished all you planned for the morning and much more, it was 10 o'clock.

You tidy up the miscellaneous work that manged to scatter across your desk and turn to the Mexican stood to your side. "Thank you for your help." He smiles at your words and looks at the clock behind you. "No worry querida. Any time" You feel yourself blush slightly at his words and so you look down and step away from the desk. You point out the time and ask if you should begin your duties. "You go ahead cariño, I just need to do something." Not thinking much of his words (and assuming he probably had to tie his shoe laces or send a text) you leave the door, parting with a soft "See you in the foyer in a minute."

You sit down on a plush leather sofa by the door waiting for Sergio's return to do your first job of the day. Suddenly, the door quietly opens and you hear the distant shouts of fans and the ever moving ambience of a Formula 1 race track. You turn to look at the door, already knowing who the disruptor of your momentary peace is. "Morning Max." The Dutch man nods at you walk in your direction to place a clearly empty red bull can in the bin.

He sits down to your left and stretches out. "So, what media duties do you have today?" Max hums in thought and furrows his brows at your question. "Uhm- I think I have to film one of those what's in the box videos and then soem looking at the car, meeting a few fans and then the video with Checo at the end of the day." You hum in acknowledgement at Max's words. The Red Bull YouTube video at the end of the day should be quite nice. Unsurprisingly, it features him and Checo but also Daniel and Yuki. You continue chatting, waiting for Checo until the Mexican comes through the door. You stand to greet Checo and begin walking out if the door to begin your day. He smiles at your greetings and unbeknownst to you, gives Max a harsh glare at the proximity of the two of you when he first entered.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

The day seemed to breeze by and by the time it came to the last media duty, you were shocked at how late it already was. You stand to the side under a canopy, watching as the RB (both Red Bull and VCARB) drivers mess around with each other. The sight of Checo and Max having a small, futile squabble over who gets to drive however, makes you laugh softly. You turn to look at the other drivers as Checo (not that you know) turns to give you a longing glance for the millionth time today. The cameraman calls for a small break before the next segment if the video will be filmed and the drivers all let out a collective sigh of relief.

You walk to the corner of the gazebo and fetch a chilled red bull from the cooler box for Checo. You wait at the edge of the canopy, still in the shade, for Checo to give the now slightly warmer drink to him. However instead if the regular presence of a certain Pérez to your side, you instead find a short Japanese man. "Hi Yuki." The pilot grins at your words and waves slightly. "Hello Y/N, how are you today?" You continue to exchange pleasantries with the man ; you've become more acquainted recently due to him often approaching you and staying for long chats.

"So how is tha-" Yuki doenst get to finish that thought as a gruff sounding Checo cuts across him, saying your name. You turn to him and give him a small smile whilst sticking your red bull filled hand out. "Sorry it's slightly warm, I got it out a little bit ago when you stopped filming." You look from the thawed ice in the shoe of your fingers to Checo's face only to find his lips pulled together in a tight line and was he glaring at something? Before you can ask ehats wrong, he meets your eyes and his gaze softens.

"Thank you querida." The cameraman calls to the drivers to return to in front of the lens. Checo lingers for as long as he can at your side until you have to jokingly nudge him in the direction of the camera before he leaves with a breathy laugh.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Despite your early arrival, you get back to your office fairly late. You're one of the last people left in the red bull hospitality (aside from a few mechanics of course but they are just all superhuman). You just want to get him and collapse in your bed by the time you push your office door open but fortunately, you know that you just need to grab a few things and you'll be done for the day.

You place the ipad in the overnight charging dock (a clever little timed thing as to not waste excess energy) and grab your handbag from the floor where it lies. But your gaze catches on a red bull in the middle of the desk. Now it's not surprising in the slightest to see cans everywhere when you work for the big Asutrain company. However, this can is unlike one you've ever seen before. It's almost, glittery? You're curious as to what it is and of course where it came from.

Yet you chalk it up to it maybe being a very nice staff member or maybe even someone that has noticed you in the paddock (a certain Japanese man comes to mind before your mind shoos that away). However, you decide to try a bit of the drink. Heck you'll need at least some caffeine to make it home. You hear the ever satisfying crunch of the ring pull and when you put it to your lips it tastes divine. You almost moan at the sensation of a rich, almost Berry like taste, unlike anything you've ever tried before. You feel like you need to sit down to fully appreciate the flavour.

Wait. No. You feel like you need to sit down regardless. You feel a slight pressure in your head that you convince yourself that you're just imagining. You take another sip of the drink to try and subside the feeling. You place the half full can on your desk and go to walk rewards the door. But the door begins to look slightly fuzzy. Before you even try to make sense of what's happening, you suddenly feel yourself begin to grow weightless and fall backward.

You expect to hear a thump and be met with the hard, carpeted floor. However, you instead find yourself met with something warm and soft. Your mind , which is growing ever hazier, tries to make your head look up but you find yourself frozen, unable to move. At your attempts at mobility your hesr a quiet "shhh." You groan in response trying to understand who the person (cradling you?) Is. "Shhh querida. You're safe with me. Just relax." And that's all it takes for you to drift into unconsciousness.

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Please let me know if anyone would be interested in a second part!

Thank you for reading. As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome.

Taglist (irdk if this is anyone's thing so sorry if it's not). @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 fanfic #checo perez x reader #sergio checo pérez #checo perez #sergio pérez x reader #sergio perez x reader #sergio perez #checo perez x gn!reader #sergio perez x gn!reader #yandere #tw yandere #yandere sergio pérez #yandere checo #ldah's writing

[roosteraloha]

ghosted

a hireath universe story

Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

wc - approx 2.5k

warnings - a lot of angst, description of a panic attack

disclaimer - ANY BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED!! I also DO NOT give permission for any of my works to be copied, shared, compiled, translated or posted onto other sites!!

comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

You glanced at your phone again. Pointless. The notification centre was still empty from the message you were expecting. There were a few texts from the dagger squad, namely Natasha’s ‘you’ve got this!!’, which was followed up with ‘I know you did good, can’t wait to hear all about it later :)’, Bob’s very simple but appreciated ‘good luck, do it just like we practised :)’ and Javy’s typical teasing that typically would’ve make you smile, but there was one name missing. The one you desperately craved, yet nothing.

This presentation was a big part of your final grade for one of your classes. Put simply, you had to present your research to the entire course at the end of the semester - which was a lot of people - to make it a bit more engaging, students were to invite a friend or family member to help show off their research results.

When this was first assigned, Bradley was an excellent helper, encouraging you to pick the topic you wanted to but was intimidated by, even volunteering himself to help with the presentation. You heart was bursting that he’d even want to help out with his hectic schedule, too afraid to even ask him about it, your plan was to ask Javy or Natasha for help, to completely avoid this very situation.

Unsurprisingly, you return to an empty house, no bronco in the driveway, and still no communication from Bradley. Stripping out of your formal clothes, you drag yourself to the bedroom, pulling on one of Bradley’s sweaters.

Deciding to just wait it out, not seeing the point of trying to reach Bradley only to be ghosted again, you make yourself a warm drink in your favourite mug that you bought when you first moved in, curling up on the couch, nestling under on the blankets scattered around in a feeble attempt to shut out the huff until Bradley got home.

Whenever that would be.

The rumble of the bronco in the driveway was the first sign that he was home, followed by his keys in the door, and the whistling of the same cheerful tune he always did, the one you could never exactly place. Exhaling shakily, you find your voice as he lovingly presses a kiss to the small section of your head that was visible from under your blanket, like he always did, like nothing was wrong.

“Where were you?” You were met with complete silence from your boyfriend. “I was at work, you know that. Why? What’s up?” He’s confused, brows furrowed, having completely forgotten about his promise to you. He couldn’t even text you to let you know that he wasn’t going to make it, the bare minimum that you both had put down as ground rules at the beginning of your friendship, never mind your relationship.

And that hurt.

“I never ask anything of you, and the one time I needed you to do one thing for me? You couldn’t! you didn’t even bother to let me know you wouldn’t make it! Do you know how that made me feel?! To be there all alone when I promised you’d be there! You humiliated me Bradley!!”

“I had to work!! But then again, you wouldn’t know what that’s like, would you?! I was busy, okay?! Just get off my back about this!!”

You immediately quieten and shrink back, more than Bradley had ever known you to do. It was clear he’d fucked up. He didn’t mean it. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it - he was just stressed and overworked. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

You eyes well with unshed tears, the deep ache in your chest was the worse than you could’ve ever imagined. This is why you were so cautious getting into a relationship. You never wanted to be pushed away in someone’s lists priorities, having promises broken along with your heart.

For years, you had been the single friend, and as the years went by, you had picked your friends back up after being completely heartbroken and depressed after a rough breakup countless times and you swore to yourself that you would never allow yourself to be in that position. That was until Bradley came along and turned your life upside down.

Bradley took a cautious step towards you, his hands out low, as if approaching a skittish wild animal that would spook if he moved too quickly. He was right. You darted straight past him, towards the door, tugging his sweater over your head and tossing it at his feet.

Once outside you just ran. You weren’t the most athletic person, certainly not compared to Bradley, but he was frozen in place, watching his world fall apart as you sprint out of the door, out of his life.

The slight chill in the air was unusual for springtime in San Diego, the sun had long since began to set, slowly taking its heat away, leaving it cold, just like how you felt.

You’d ran until you found a quiet cove on the beach, not too far from the Hard Deck - an intentional move due to the fact that in your haste to leave, you’d left your phone, at least if you needed to, you could get to Penny at least.

Back at your home, Bradley was in a panic. It’d been hours since you left - since he’d let you leave. He shot a quick text to the dagger squad groupchat, quickly being reminded of the previous talk of how to celebrate the end of your semester. It hit him now just how badly he’d fucked up. He knew how much time and effort you’d put into your degree and especially this presentation that he himself had volunteered to help present.

No one could figure out where you’d gotten to, by this point you could be anywhere, and that terrified Bradley. Natasha was quick to tear into Bradley for messing up so badly, the rest of the squad staying quiet for she worded everything perfectly.

He messed up.

Badly.

After watching the sunset with angry, hot tears streaming down your cheeks, and hearing the last few stragglers leave the Hard Deck, you slowly stand, brushing the cold sand off your legs. You pushed the back door open slowly, quietly moving to sit down in your usual corner, waiting for Penny to notice your presence.

It took a while before she felt your eyes on her, she startled, immediately rushing to your side, her motherly instincts kicking in. “Where the hell have you been?! Are you hurt? Bradley’s worried sick, the whole squad has been looking for you!” You shrugged noncommittally, you couldn’t find it in you to care. Bradley didn’t.

Placing a glass of water before you, Penny pulled out her phone, “I’m going to call Bradley, okay? Just to let him know you’re okay, he’s going to want to come and pick you up.” Immediately, you shook your head, “NO- I uh- Call Jake.” You didn’t know why you asked for Jake instead of Natasha - it just felt right. Nodding at Penny's frown, you insist, “Penny please, just call Jake.”

Jake arrived too soon after the phone call to have obeyed any traffic laws. The worry was deeply etched into his expression as he rushed to your side, hands immediately reaching out to pull you into a brief hug, before checking you over for any injuries.

Blinking away tears, your blurry eyes focus on his green ones. Jake easily saw through your meagre attempt at suppressing your overwhelming panic. You craved Bradley’s comfort, but he wanted you off his back, panic building as your thoughts raced on repeat.

He didn’t want you.

He wanted you off his back.

Did he not love you like you loved him?

Where did it all go so wrong?

Bradley didn’t want you.

Bradley didn’t want you.

The loud buzzing in your ears faded, slowly registering Jake’s soothing tone. “Just keep breathing. In and out. Yeah, just like that. You’re doing great. You’ve got this.”

The next thing you know, Jake was replaced by Bradley, pulling you tightly to his chest. You inhaled sharply, gasping to catch your breath.

Rough, warm hands cradle your face, encouraging you to maintain eye contact. Bradley’s eyes were glistening with tears, red-rimmed, a tell-tale sign that he too was suffering. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” His voice was hoarse, breaking with emotion, “You scared the shit out of me. Don’t you ever leave like that again, you hear me?”

Repeating his demand, ensuring you heard him, you shakily reach out and grab a hold of the back of his sweater, not wanting any physical or emotional distance between you. Looking over his shoulder, you realised that Jake was now joined by the rest of the dagger squad, and to your surprise, even Maverick, all of whom wore a slight variation of worry and relief, watching you and Bradley from the bar, giving you some space.

"What I said was stupid. I was being so stupid and unfair to you. And I'm truly sorry for that." One of his hands gently runs through your hair, pulling your head gently away from his neck, “I am so so sorry. I cannot apologise enough. But please, never ever leave like that when I have no way of contacting you, no way of knowing if you’re hurt. Okay?”

You nod slowly, eyes searching his to see he truly was regretting his words and the way he treated you. “I won’t. I hope this never happens again, but I’ll bring my phone and a charger next time, okay?” He immediately nods, the tension visibly easing in his shoulders, soothing his hands across your cheeks, keeping physical contact with you at all times.

Shifting slightly, you glance up over his shoulder, meeting the concerned gaze of your friends, shyly giving them a soft, apologetic smile. You never meant to worry any of them, you just needed space. Standing shakily, you walk over to them, with Bradley’s arm wrapped tightly around your waist, not allowing you to stray more than a step from his side.

It felt secure, it felt safe.

The squad brought you into a large group hug, thankful that you were okay. Bradley pulled Jake to one side, expressing his gratitude for him dropping everything to get to you when Penny called, and letting him know straight away that he knew you were safe. For all teasing and tension between them in the skies and careers, Bradley was truly grateful to have someone as loyal as Jake in his life - not that he would ever let Jake know that though.

By the time you’d got home, you couldn’t stop shivering, something Bradley had immediately picked up on, softly leading you upstairs and into the bathroom. He lifted you so you were sat on the counter, as busied himself gathering a fresh sweater of his, along with his pair of sweatpants that you’d taken after your first night together. He began running a bath, reaching under the counter to find the bubble bath he knew you loved but was too expensive for you to use regularly, along with your shampoo, conditioner and body wash.

You knew where this was going. This is what you loved about Bradley. His attention to minute details about you.

He slowly helped you into the bath, after helping you undress carefully, kneeling outside the bath to allow you to stretch out fully. After letting you adjust to the temperature of the water, he softly began to wash your hair, having watched you do it countless times, he followed each step with precision, not letting a single bubble reach your face. Then, he’s pinning it up with a claw clip while he washed your body delicately, such small acts of affection that had your heart growing at how closely he’d paid attention to your routines.

He let you soak away your stress for a while, until the water started to cool slightly. Then, he was guiding you to stand, drying you off and started to apply your body lotion. He pulled his clothes he picked out carefully onto you, before sliding on a new pair of fluffy socks, which you knew he secretly loved so he didn’t feel your cold feet in bed.

Next, he was combing your hair gently with his fingers, following each detailed step in your hair care routine, blow drying your hair fully. Bradley had listened to your grumblings every single hair wash day since you’d moved in together to know that after such an emotionally exhausting day, drying your hair yourself would be the last thing you wanted to do.

Now tears of love and admiration were welling in your eyes, not understanding how you had got so lucky to have a man like Bradley in your life, someone who paid so much attention to each little aspect of your life. You grabbed his arm gently as he was lining up all your skincare products on the counter, bringing his attention back to you. His brow furrows deeply at your glossy eyes, he goes to speak but you cut him off with a kiss, one that you hoped expressed how much you loved and appreciated him. Pulling away, you kissed him again gently and smiled softly, letting him get back starting your skincare routine.

Cuddled up in your bed next Bradley was the perfect ending to such a stressful day. He lovingly carried you to the bed, tucked you under the covers, even allowing you to have an extra blanket than he normally did, just to bring an extra smile to your face. Resting your head against his shoulder, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, to which he returned with a gentle kiss to your forehead, his hand wrapped around your shoulder and his hand cradling the back of your head.

“I’m sorry I missed the presentation. So tell me all about it. And I mean everything.” You laughed softly at Bradley’s love of college student drama, snuggling impossibly closer to him, and starting to recall your day, pausing for his commentary about each presentation and drama starting student, soon pushing your miscommunication fight to the back of your mind.

You truly loved Bradley.

no pressure tags

(either you reblogged hiraeth or interacted with my other post - if you don’t want to be tagged pls send me a message and I’ll remove you)

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun maverick fic #allina writes

[mattodore]

can you describe matthias and theo night routines? and their sleep schedule

<3 ly

Theo doesn’t get a lot of sleep since he’s either out partying into the long stretches of the night or up studying until the words begin to blur on the page. I’d say he normally falls asleep around 3AM-4AM and doesn’t wake back up until 7AM. Four-ish hours is pretty average for how much sleep he gets a night… maybe less at times if he’s more stressed than usual. I should add that he does sleep more when he’s staying over at Matthias’s or vice versa, but generally he tries his best not to let Matthias distract him from studying before bed… which only ever works out about a quarter of the time. Matthias can be... very persuasive.

In the case of Matthias, well… he’s a chronic insomniac whose insomnia is exacerbated by hallucinations and nightmares. Unsurprisingly, his sleep schedule is terribly inconsistent, but if he does sleep then I think he normally manages it sometime around noon and will stay asleep for about an hour or two. It’s actually very rare that he falls asleep during the night—especially after Theo begins to sleep over, as Matthias prefers to read and watch over him at that time instead. Theo has fits in his sleep (from nightmares that he never remembers…) and Matthias gently calms him so he doesn’t wake up.

The only time they fall asleep at around the same time is when they’ve been at it for a while and both need a break. Matthias doesn’t stay asleep for long, though… maybe an hour at most. He does sleep easier around Theo, but that’s mostly just when Theo is awake. I think Matthias finds a lot of comfort in knowing Theo is there watching over him. He went through a lot at the reformation school and there were many times within those years where sleep would be abruptly interrupted and then he’d be back on the killing floor, so to speak, so having someone there to watch over him… I think it really helps. Then, on the other hand, Theo sleeps pretty deeply after they’ve been having sex. There’s never a time he feels more cared for and adored than when Matthias is making love to him, so it's... a relaxing experience. It puts Theo's mind at ease and I think it’s probably when Theo feels the safest. So he'll sleep for a long while after, feeling cradled in Matthias's presence, his anxiety finally snuffed out.

As for their actual night routines… hm. They’re very different, especially before and after the start of Echthroi. 

Theo’s night routine stays pretty much the same throughout the story. He’s not one for self-care, like, at all. Because of that, he doesn’t necessarily have a routine… Theo’s honestly only really meticulous in his studies and everything else suffers for it. However, Theo physically cannot fall asleep unless he’s checked the locks on the windows and doors and closed all of the blinds and curtains. That’s the one routine of his he’s always sure to follow through on, even when he’s intoxicated or sleep deprived.

Otherwise, what else he does as part of his “routine” is up in the air. Sometimes he showers before bed, other times he showers after waking up. Sometimes he combs through his hair all nicely and other times he just impatiently rips his fingers through his hair and shrugs. Sometimes he forgets to brush his teeth, other times he forgets that he’s already brushed his teeth and ends up doing it again. He’s a bit of a mess. If he’s actually aware/awake enough to put himself to bed, then he’ll messily wipe any makeup off his face post-clubbing and/or he’ll shower post-hook up (if it’s the pre-Matthias part of Echthroi). If he’s tired from studying he’ll put all of his materials away and then flop down on his bed. If he has to see his parents in the morning then he’ll wind up in the bathroom for too long, brushing his teeth until his gums bleed. If we’re talking about Theo in the post-meeting Matthias part of the story then he might take a cold shower to try and get Matthias out of his head for a little bit, or he’ll find himself laying in bed staring warily at his phone. Hm… and in general Theo will hum lullabies to himself so he can fall asleep easier… it’s a childhood habit.

By nature of Matthias’s insomnia, Matthias doesn’t exactly find himself preparing for bed during the night like most people. He does, however, still run through his personal care routine at around 8pm. He showers, brushes, flosses, cleanses and hydrates, primps and preens, and then he’ll usually find himself entertaining guests or a partner for the night.

For Matthias pre-meeting Theo, he’s often not alone after dark as he has a string of men with whom he takes to his bed or a list of faceless people to call on whenever he wants to be surrounded by bodies and chatter. There are still quiet nights where he’s by himself or just with Imani, but they’re relatively few and far between. For Matthias post-meeting Theo… woof. He did sleep around here and there still, but I think he gave it up pretty early on… his mind was always swimming with thoughts of Theo and he couldn’t focus on nor did he find himself interested in the men he’d have under him. So after meeting Theo his usual night circuit changes and he often finds himself staying home and reading with some wine and the occasional glance at his phone, waiting for a response. Matthias does a lot of waiting when it comes to Theo.

If they're together at night (when they’re dating), then Matthias will usually make dinner for Theo. He likes feeding him (by hand, even, though Theo often protests). Normally Theo will have a few textbooks with him that he can study from while he waits for dinner and he always winds up going "give me a minute" when the food is finally done. They'll enjoy each other's company just fine at home or they'll go out for a drive or a walk. Theo often winds up getting roped into following along with Matthias's night routine and will poke fun at how fussy Matthias can be as Matthias does skincare beside him in the bathroom. Theo tries to get away with studying again later in the night, but Matthias likes to distract him as he’s personally offended whenever Theo whips out his textbooks past, like, 11PM. In general, they'll wind up having sex at some point, or multiple points, and then they'll shower together. After they towel off and Matthias dries Theo's hair, Matthias will most likely end up reading to Theo until Theo falls asleep. If Theo wakes up during the night, Matthias simply kisses him back to sleep.

#i feel like i should add a cw for theo brushing his teeth like that but have no idea what i’d tag it as… #river dipping #asks #anonymous #oc extras #theodore doe #matthias evanoff #a burning house to live in #echthroi #ts4 #laying on my stomach in bed kicking my feet in the air and smiling at my laptop screen <3 love you toooooo #i'm sorry it took me so long to get around to replying to this but the horrors... yk how they can be i'm sure #literally took me weeks to write this out... those questionnaires took a toll on my brain clearly but i love them so it's okay #let this get away from me in length a bit but. well. dennis reynolds voice i've got shit to say etc. etc. #no but ummm... honestly my personality disorder is still being a little crazy atm so i'm still not really ready to talk much um. #and i'm probably going to continue to stay offline here for a few more days... #but i wanted to finally post this bc i really am sorry for how long it took me to get around to it... #and i also wanted to say thank you to everyone who sent me messages even if i didn't respond bc i felt embarrassed. huge kisses <3 #seeing the ''24 days ago'' timestamp on this as i finally go to hit post... woof. again i'm so sorry 😭 thank you for letting me talk #your ear off about them tho!!! seriously so grateful to have someone who's curious abt them like huuuge kisses for you as well!

[nemir]

it’s quest loving hours

just some random headcanons & things that remind me of him that, for some reason, refuse to leave my brain. you do not have to agree with them, they are purely for me & anyone else who wants to enjoy them uwu also i’ll put it under a cut because long post is long.

--» because you both tend to work the night shift (or just long days in general), you don’t have a lot of time in the day to do things so you’re doing groceries at 10pm on a thursday, dr’s appointments are scheduled for like 3:45pm. last showing at the movies. late-night dinners at the sports bar. --» in the same vein; late night laundromat visits. super super liminal space hours and it’s as if only you two exist in the entire world on these nights & neither of you would have it any other way. you throw balled-up socks at each other, race in the wheely-basket things, dancing up and down the aisles of dryers. sometimes he’ll go out and have a smoke (not very often, since he technically quit. but the weeks where work has been especially rough, he allows himself a bit of stress relief) and you just watch him from inside; you hate the habit but lord he looks so good with a smoke in hand, taking a long drag, the other hand running through his hair. he closes his eyes and leans his head back to exhale. --» rainy summer nights. the lights reflecting off the puddles in the streets, the sound of rain hitting the roof of the car. you’re parked in a field outside of town watching a thunderstorm roll in. --» bob ross paint-along’s for date night. or just for fun. this poor man hardly has an artistic bone in his body (he’s a writer, not a painter) but the effort is there and it’s adorable sitting there, watching him hyperfocused on his canvas, tongue sticking out a bit as he’s lost in the creative process. he also 100% almost takes a sip from the rinse cup. --» 80s music. 80s coming-of-age movies. i just have this feeling in my gut that he would’ve consumed that shit growing up; his mom probably loved all those iconic films. pretty in pink, sixteen candles, breakfast club. he would look amazing in acid wash denim and you can NOT change my mind. lots of hand-me-down clothes from his dad/grandpa or something, from that era. --» dude absoLUTELY grew up in a 80s decorated house. im talkin’, grandma’s house. golden girls type of shit. wicker furniture. BLACK. BATHROOM. FIXTURES. UGH WHY DID THOSE EXIIIIIIIIST. guest bathroom was beach themed with a blue toilet. even though he was born in like ‘91/-’92, does not matter. --» stationary collector. i mean we all been knew, this man loves his pens. but he can’t not grab a new notebook when you’re at walmart/target/whatever. will buy new pens and sharpies and the like, even when he absolutely does not need them. complains that he has no where to put them all, but he’s afraid to use them (and no this is not me projecting shut the fucK UP) --» carnivals at night. unsurprisingly good at the games where you gotta shoot something (JFKLDJFD) and wins you the biggest prize which he is then forced to carry for the rest of the night because he HAD to do it immediately. i dont take him much for a rides kinda guy though, mostly games and the food OH MAN candied apples, caramel corn, funnel cake, those lil mini donuts. it’s the time he gets to treat himself (and you). but just all the bright lights, colours, the bass-y pop music from the rides that gets more muffled as you walk further away.  --» those winter nights when it’s pin-drop quiet, the sky is almost purple. it’s snowing and the snowflakes are big and fluffy. the snow isn’t that good, sticky packing snow but that won’t stop him from scooping up a handful of powdery fluff and throwing it at you! red noses and cheeks, laughs and smiles. big floppy mittens laying over the heater as you curl up with hot chocolate. --» crocheting things for HIM. the very i d e a that you learned how (if you didnt already) and then went out of your way to make HIM something? a scarf, a hat, some slippers for his big ass feet and a HUMONGOUS sweater (gotta contain those ARMS and tiddys yknow?). he keeps that shit for EVER. even when it’s falling apart, he asks you to fix it to the best of your ability because he never wants to lose that, never wants to let go of something so precious. broken things can be fixed. --» yknow those things you can buy that’s like, “the night sky on [date]”? 100% got that for you as a gift. the night you joined the server. the night you started dating. the night you met in person. one of them is on a little pendent necklace that you never take off, which makes his heart burst every time he catches a glimpse of it. --» i feel like he grew up kinda poor, so the idea of crazy expensive frivolous gifts does not spark joy in him (there are some exceptions, of course. but it’s a big deal to him so when you DO get them you know it’s extra special), and he definitely gives ‘something made has more meaning’. he likes making things for you, as gifts. diy king. would also 100% do something cheesy like buying a bouquet of flowers, puts in one fake flower, then writes “the day the last rose dies is when i will stop loving you” on the card. --» speaking of writing things: notes in your lunchbox. both of you, though. you do it for each other. it’s so simple, but very sweet. or if one of you works the morning shift, you leave a sticky note on the mirror “have a wonderful day! i love you! xo”. --» i’d say mix tapes/burning cd’s but uhhhh LOL it’s 2022 so personalized spotify playlists. all the songs that remind him of you/you two. perfectly curated for specific date nights. when the talk of marriage comes around, he busts out a “potential first dance songs” playlist LMAO he was already ready. --» loves a good card game. im talkin crib, rummy, fuckin... this man has the most intense games of solitaire. scrabble nights. tries to beat you at trivial pursuit but you’re a master of trivia games. a lot of those nights end with some cards/game pieces scattered over the table and floor, along with some articles of clothing coughcough --» i can see him being a morning lover. mostly due to working nights. by the time you both get home, you’re exhausted and that is the very last thing on your mind. not to say it never happens! of course it does. sometimes it’s the best way to get out some uhhh frustrations from the work day. but the way the sun spills through the window and over your body just [motor revving sounds], yknow? he can’t help it. you’re so... fucking ethereal.

#quest #bloomic #blooming panic #god this turned out so much longer than i expected it to #im not even a little bit sorry #anyway #thank you for coming to my tedtalk #enjoy the headcanons uwu

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the meet-ugly prompts: #13, Indruck, SFW ? 👁️👁️

Here you go!

13: we make contact before trying to steal the last seat on the subway/bus/train and I end up in your lap and fuck you, I’m going to stay here because I’ve had a really long day and this seat was mine

The Phoenix Starport is a labyrinth, while technically made of chrome and touch-screens, is really made of lines.

Duck stands in line to show his ticket, to deposit his bags, to go through three separate security check-points and, when he gets to the section for the shuttle to take him to the Starliner, a fourth one because when your clients are high paying, you don’t want them getting blown to pieces.

He isn’t high-paying, he isn’t a seasoned space traveler, and he isn’t going to spend one second more on his feet than he has to. It’s been two solid hours of that just to get to this point. Unfortunately, every other passenger shares this sentiment. When the shuttle door opens a mass of lifeforms pile in, hunting for seats. Duck spots one, turns to sit, and finds it’s much fuzzier than it looked.

“Excuse me.” The creature whose laps he’s in reminds him of the pictures of Mothman scattered around his home state, “but this seat is taken.”

“Yeah, by me, because I saw it first.”

A click from inside the mothmans chest, “You are wrong. I saw it first, and did not foresee anyone being rude enough to use me in its place.”

Every other seat is filled, and it’s a fifteen minute ride to the Starliner. Duck crosses his arms, “you don’t wanna be a seat, you better get up.”

That earns him an annoyed chirr, “Not a chance.”

The shuttle ride is smooth, but his seat keeps prodding him with a clawed finger whenever he puts his weight on it. When they arrive, the two of them stand one after the other. The mothman shakes out his feathers, tosses a glare over his shoulder, and steps through the doors.

Unsurprisingly, the Sylvain Dream makes opulence seem subdued. There are rare flowers studding the fountain by the concierge desk, art from across the universe on the walls, and a sound dampening, shimmering carpet lining the hall to his room. He’s looking forward to some alone time; while all the suites at this level are technically two person, they’re so expensive that most travelers get their own rooms.

He keys open the door and comes face to chest with the same fucking alien from the shuttle.

“Ah. So we are in this timeline. Lovely.” The mothman says dryly, passing him to greet the bellhop who just finished scurrying up the stairs, “I see you have a message from minister Woodbridge. Kindly have someone reply and tell him that if it’s an emergency, they may contact me directly, but if the matter is anything else, they are to leave me in peace during my journey.”

“Yes, Seer Cold.”

“Thank you.” the seer drops a coin into his hand and brushes past Duck without another word.

Duck finally makes it past the entryway and gasps; when the people paying for his journey asked if he’d prefer forest, city, beach, or desert, he assumed it was some sort of vague theme. Instead, the carpet is lush, soft grass, there are flowers everywhere, and the furniture is all made to be woodsy and rustic. The bath and shower are like a mini water-fall and pool, his bed housed in a mock cabin.

“This is amazing.”

“If you are here purely for a leisure trip.” His suite-mate crosses both sets of arms, “some of us are being transported back to work.”

“Now look, this is a work trip for me too. You gotta admit this is pretty swank.”

“And an attempt to soften the blow.” Mothman mutters.

Duck rolls his eyes, decides this is not his problem to deal with, and goes to unpack for the month-long journey ahead.

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

For the first two days he and Indrid--which is what the aloof, perpetually touchy Sylph likes to be called--do their best to ignore each other. They’re stuck on the same dining schedule, which means Duck accidentally insults the alien by giggling when he sees him lick his dessert up with an absurdly long tongue. He makes it up to the next night by saving the pineapple soda delivered in their lunch basket for the Sylph.

On day three, he’s reading by the holo-fire pit when a white badge with blue writing dangles before him.

“Would you like to accompany me to the spa?”

“Uh….”

“Since I foresee you asking no, we do not have to spend the entire time together.”

“I, uh, I was gonna say sure, but was wonderin’ why you offered it to me.”

“Oh.” His antenna flick in a new way, “I, ah, they gave me two. I have no one else to go with and it seemed silly to let it go to waste.”

“I gotta wear anything special?”

“Since humans require clothes in all but a few scenarios, I suggest wearing your robe.”

The spa is just as elaborate as the rest of the ship, with cushy chairs and complimentary booze. The secretary hands them each a menu of treatments bigger than any Duck’s held at a restaurant.

“Sugar scrub….talon wax….rock massage. Do they mean hot rocks?”

“No, that treatment helps those with scales shed.”

“Huh.” Duck pokes his tongue in his cheek, “wish they said which of these were safe for, uh, squishy human bodies.”

Indrid reaches out a claw, tapping several on the list, “This ful massage would be good; you’re muscular, it will be nice to have those muscles tended to.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. Have been workin out more, nice to have someone else notice.”

The Sylph smiles, “you may also like the hair luxury add-on; I’ve always thought humans with salt and pepper hair should show it off.”

Before Duck can ask how Indrid developed that opinion or learned that slang, they’re ushered off into separate rooms. He’s scrubbed and rubbed until his body surrenders the last of it’s stress, the oils they rub on his skin and into his hair smelling pleasantly of pine and cedar. His session ends with one of the staff leading him to a small room covered in deep green marble, where he can rinse and dry off in his own time.

Indrid is in the same room, reclining in a chair with a sun lamp on his wings. They’ve been groomed, the feather straighter and smoother than this morning. Duck takes his first real look at them, notices how the black is iridescent and that there are two bands of deep grey on the inside close to Indrid’s torso.

He’s really quite stunning.

“I feel” Indrid murmurs, “as if we got off to a bad start.”

“You think?” Duck aims for a genial tone.

Indrid cocks his head, “Yes. That is why I said it. I, ah, I ought to apologize for my temperament over the last few days. I am so very fond of earth, of humans, and I’d hoped to be able to work there indefinitely. But Sylvain is in crisis, and so they need me near. Never mind that we have the capability to transmit messages quickly between planets.”

“What’s the crisis?”

“Our plants are dying or failing to produce the resources we need. The belief is that-”

“-it’s a leftover contamination or mutation from the earth plants that crossed through the gate before it was destroyed.”

Indrid blinks, then grins, “it is novel to be the one having their sentences finished. Yes, Duck Newton; the gate has been gone for over two hundred years, but both our worlds will feel it’s effects for many more years.” His antenna perk up, “you’re the one they’re bringing on to consult.”

“Yep. That’s why they gave me such a sweet deal on the trip; they know it’s gonna be fuckin exhaustin work. Even with all the other perks they’re offerin, I know a lot of folks didn’t wanna apply.”

“Why did you feel differently?”

He pushes to the other side of the little pool so they can be closer, “I spent my whole life in the town I grew up in. I love what I do, I love helpin forests stay healthy and regrow and I...I dunno, how often do you get the chance to go to space and see forests on another planet?”

“Once, if you are me.” Indrid closes his wings, clicks off the light, and offers Duck a hand, “and I am glad you will have the chance to do the same.”

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

“You know” Indrid passes Duck the plate of toast, “I am named for Sylph who was the second most recent seer after myself. He and I are the same kind of Sylph, and when my parents learned their mothling-to-be was the next seer, they decided I would be Indrid Cold.”

“Not gonna lie, people actin like your fate is set in stone from birth gives me the creeps.”

“Understandable. I would not admit this to the other ministers, but I am no longer content with reporting on the futures. I try to change fate when I can. In this way, I am also like the first Indrid Cold. He kept trying to intervene in disasters; that’s how he got seen when he should not have been.”

“Holy fuck, there really was a mothman!”

“Indeed. I also learned from his personal notes that he was so fond of humans, he ended up marrying one.”

“Damn” Duck passes him the sweetener for his tea, teases, “you share that habit too?”

Red eyes linger a moment too long on his body before Indrid grins, “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

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

“You sure you don’t wanna swim?” Duck treads water in the green lagoon of some distant moon. The cruise is docked for an activity day, Duck having selected to spend it snorkeling and Indrid deciding to spend it with Duck.

“The wings are not built for it. Though the water does look pleasant.” Indrid lazily sifts black sand through his claws.

“You could wade in. It stays pretty shallow there” he points to a sand bar.

“If I get in over my head, will you come to my aid?”

“You know it.”

Indrid wades in, chirping as the waves hit his knees. When Duck next glances at him, Indrid is glancing right back. He’s smiling, soft and secretive.

“I am glad you picked this spot. The view is spectacular.”

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

They’ve hit turbulence a handful of times, all of which pale in comparison to the jolt that sends him tumbling out of bed. There are stabilizer controls to lighten the gravity in the room so they won’t feel the bumps as badly. But when he wobbles over, he finds it’s already up to the lowest it can be without him floating.

He stumbles to the window, the curtains shut against the vast universe. Is turbulence this severe normal? If the gravity doohickey isn’t able to help, maybe that means they’ve never hit a storm this bad.

Opening the window is a terrible idea; there’s no cause of the turbulence to be seen, and now he’s in a dark room staring into the depths of space, it’s so big, he’s so small, they all are, the forces of nature still have it in them to crack this ship like an egg, killing them all.

“Would it help if I said there are no futures where this storm poses a threat to us?” Indrid whispers from behind him.

“Kinda.”

“Would it help to see something breathtaking?”

“Wh-”

Indrid taps the glass, drawing Ducks attention to two massive, starry shapes, “Celestial whales. At least that’s the human name for them.”

“Holy fuck.” They remind Duck of Whale Sharks, but impossibly bigger, skin coated in thousands of star-spots, “how can they do that? I mean, obviously they ain’t mammals, but fuckin nothin thrives in deep space.”

“No one is certain.” Indrid sighs, happily, “isn’t it wonderful to know there are such things in the universe?”

“Yeah. AHfuck” He hits the wall as the whole ship shudders, “fuck, sorry-”

“It’s alright. It can be alarming when you’re on your first trip through the cosmos. I, ah, I have something that may help, if you’re alright with me touching you some.”

“Fine by me.” Duck follows Indrid to the Sylph’s bed. The seer sits cross-legged with his back against the wall and instructs Duck to rest his head in his lap. The points of his claws begin rubbing his neck and the base of his skull, Indrid humming at a low, steady pitch until Duck’s eyes start to close.

The pressure points are helping, he can tell by his loosening spine. But what soothes him to sleep is the repetitive reminder of Indrid there with him in the dark.

When he wakes up the storm is gone. His body is still moving, rising and falling in time with Indrid’s breath as he sleeps. He pulled Duck atop him in the night, and at some point must have wrapped him in his wings, since once, is still half-flopped on Duck’s back.

Seized with affection, Duck kisses his shoulder. When this earns him a happy chirp, he does it again, then kisses a cheerful path up to Indrid’s cheek. Red eyes open, sleepy and full of tenderness, just in time for the Sylph to turn his head and kiss Duck properly.

“What a lovely thing to awaken to.”

“No kiddin” Duck kisses him again, “fuck, Indrid, this is the weirdest goddamn thing to ever happen to me and I’m thinkin it might also be the best.”

Indrid hugs him close, “We shall have ample time to find out, if you wish to do so.”

“Hell yeah. But we only got a few days before we hit Sylvain.”

“Yes” Indrid kisses his nose, “but I happen to foresee Woodbridge ignoring my request for peace and sending me a message saying I will be working closely with a certain, visiting forestry expert.”

#indrid cold/ duck newton #indruck #taz amnesty #meet ugly #reader request

[gravitywonagain]

Breathing You In (I Don't Wanna Stop)

Hi... this is nonsense. Un-beta-ed nonsense. But enjoy the fruits of my overactive imagination. I'll edit it when I finish the rest, I just thought I'd post this. For fun?

Modern cultivators gym au where WWX and LWJ meet because of their ridiculous schedules and then just stare at each other across the exercise equipment. Don't worry, it'll get hot.

[M (for now?), 1.5k, 1/?, Wangxian]

1.

It’s still dark outside when Wei Ying shoulders open the glass door into the gym. He flashes his membership keyring, a small black card with a silver beast head on it, to the teenager at the front desk. She doesn’t even look up from her phone as she waves him in.

He quietly makes his way past the free-weights to the locker room. The gym is silent but for his own steps. Even the speakers are lacking the standard crackle of bland pop music.

Wei Ying isn’t surprised. It’s part of the reason he comes to the gym when he does. Nobody wants to get up and exercise when the moon is high but the stars have faded. That liminal space between too early and too late. Wei Ying wouldn’t be awake now if he could help it, but all-nighters generally leave him more riled up than strung out. He’s found that a good workout after a night of exorcisms is the only way he can get to sleep. That or pot, but he doesn’t really have the budget for building up a habit.

When Nie Huaisang had told him that Da-ge was opening a new Unclean Realm location closer to his part of the city, Wei Ying had done whatever was needed to get that friends and family discount. (What was needed was forcing Nie Huaisang to meet him there once a week, which was, mostly, doable. Getting Nie Huaisang to actually do a workout once he was there was, thankfully, not a requirement.)

The Unclean Realm was the first 24-hour cultivation gym to open in the city. It offered things no mundane gym could: reinforced facilities, significantly heavier weights, magically fortified mu ren zhuang, among other things. Unsurprisingly, it was a very profitable enterprise. Cultivators -- sect-affiliated and not -- flocked to them, desperate to stop lifting boulders for strength training.

There are now four gyms spread across the city in various boroughs.

This one, the one that Wei Ying frequents most, is the farthest from all of the main cultivation clans and, accordingly, the closest to Wei Ying’s apartment.

Wei Ying shoves his bag into an open locker and locks his sword into the rack on the wall. His boots, caked in dried mud from the night’s work, are set under the little wooden bench Wei Ying is sitting on. He pulls off his work jacket and hangs it carefully on the locker door. It’s enchantments shimmer under the fluorescent lights. His jeans are not enchanted, but only because he hasn’t taken the time to sew in the various protections like he should. He drapes them over his jacket and grabs his shorts from his bag.

Disrobing after a night like this always feels like an unburdening. Like disarming himself, taking off his jacket, removes some of the awful responsibility of being a cultivator in this city. In this country.

It doesn’t. He knows it doesn’t. But sometimes it’s nice to pretend for a while.

As he slips into his gym clothes, Wei Ying closes his eyes and imagines that he’s just an average person, going to the gym after working the nightshift.

It doesn’t work very well. He always gets caught up in the specifics. What kind of job does he work? Why doesn’t he go to the gym before work? Why does he still feel so fucking stressed?

The gym smells like any gym. Rubber and sweat and cleaning product soaked into the carpet, into the drywall. It’s a calming sort of scent. Wei Ying finds himself already relaxing into the routine of his workout before he even gets to the bench.

He likes to use the weight benches here because they are new and still soft on his spine and shoulder blades. He’s gotten a bit bony since he moved to Yiling. A consequence of no longer having access to the Jiang family bank accounts and Jiang Yanli’s 24-hour comfort-soup service. So any extra padding is just nice to have.

The sound quality in his old, shitty headphones is, well, shitty. But when he starts into his set -- legs and back, today -- he loses himself in it. He’s always meditated the best while in motion. Sitting still was never good for his brain. In this, the slow build of the burn in his muscles, the focus on his form, the regulation of his breathing, he can push aside all of the worst parts of the night.

He filters through all of the bullshit, the feelings of guilt and failure and inadequacy, and, somewhere in the back of his mind, he begins to tease apart the problem. It’s not a conscious process. No, presently his thoughts are full of rep counts and song lyrics. But he knows the way his brain works by now. He knows it’s turning on the problem. So he lets it.

His body moves, his brain works, and his self relaxes into these things he was made for.

Golden energy pulses through him in time with the bellows-press of his lungs. A fire stoked in his core, giving him strength and energy and focus. The meditation of his workout pools serenity inside him. Discipline that builds power, spins sweat into gold.

He stretches again between free weights and cardio. He drinks water. He shakes out his arms and touches his toes before he steps onto the treadmill.

Running at the end of leg day is a special kind of torture. But if he doesn’t run, he won’t sleep when he gets home, and he desperately needs to sleep today if he’s going to go back out tonight.

It’s a good burn once he settles into the flow of it: steps and breaths and heartbeats and core revolutions all coalescing into a deep and easy kind of harmony.

Sometimes he likes to think of his workouts in terms of music. Not the music in his headphones, though he has listened to classical compositions in the past and he will again, he’s sure. He matches the movement of his body to movements composed to compliment and grow, building from a tuning note breath into an orchestral resonance that thrums through him. It’s not a perfect metaphor, but it tickles the musician in him.

Halfway through his run, a man walks past the treadmills and into the locker room. It’s probably around 5:30am. When he comes back out, Wei Ying is just slowing down into his cool down jog.

The man folds himself in half like it’s nothing as he starts what looks to be a variation on a sun salutation flow. Wei Ying isn’t overly confident in his knowledge of yoga, though he has enjoyed a class every now and then, but the man moves with all the confidence and grace of a lifetime practitioner. The mats he’s using happen to be directly in Wei Ying’s line of sight and it’s… a problem.

Wei Ying tries very hard to keep his eyes to himself. He really does. But, the man is, in a word, stunning.

He’s wearing so much white that he looks like he belongs on a tennis court, but, somehow, it works for him? The fabrics all look high-quality in a way that somehow looks more curated than ostentatious, but the whole look still speaks of money. The man’s ultra-lightweight, sweat-wicking, odor-resistant (if Wei Ying had to guess) shirt probably costs more than Wei Ying’s phone. (To be fair, Wei Ying has a Nokia brick from 2004 -- yes, they do still work -- because his particular brand of cultivation does not mesh well with technology. But the point stands.)

He’s obviously Lan. Even if the necklace didn’t give him away, the everything-else about him would.

That Lan necklace, though. Wei Ying saw the chain first, it’s not hidden, nor should it be. But a chain could be anything. When the man moved through his low plank into cobra pose, however, the pendant slipped free of his (probably $70) shirt and Wei Ying could see the tell-tale cloud pendant of the Lan sect.

If he’s not mistaken, and Wei Ying has been staring like a stalker for long enough to be fairly confident, the cloud was pure jade, marking this gorgeous being as a scion of the Lan family. A direct descendant of Lan An.

It’s during this contemplation that Wei Ying is caught.

The man looks up, meets his eye, and smirks. Smirks. He’s a fucking menace.

Wei Ying realizes, a bit belatedly, that he hasn’t even been jogging as he’s been staring. He idly wonders when he stopped and tries to blame the heat in his cheeks on his workout. Unfortunately, he’s never been particularly good at lying to himself.

He nods in acknowledgement and apology and the man goes back to his flow. (A deep crescent moon pose that could probably go deeper with some help.) Pull yourself together, Wei Ying!

.

It’s almost a month of this before they even speak to each other.

#wangxian #fanfiction #the untamed #cql #mdzs #modern au #byi(idws) excerpt #or maybe i'll just post is all as successive comments? #we'll see how it goes #byi(idws) #my writing #my wife hasn't read this yet so it's all my bad grammar choices #this is fun but i really need to go work on ch11 of words now

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 2

Day 2 - There is a timer that counts down to when you will meet your soulmate. 

Pairing(s): Romantic RoSleep (Roman x Remy/Sleep), background Analogical

TWs: Mild Swearing from Remy __

“No, no, no, you move my 3 O’clock to 4, my 4 O’clock to 5, then cancel it. I don’t even want to have to look at that scumbag from accounting today, babes.”

Remy kept taking on his bluetooth headset as he approached the Starbucks he’d grown so accustomed to. Normally just inhaling the scent of ground coffee, vanilla, and cinnamon spice would be enough to flood his stressed cranium with serotonin. But that wasn’t going to cut it today. 

Today he was on a mission; his soulmate timer had stopped during his visit here a week ago, and he was determined to find out who it’d stopped for. With his schedule cleared as much as possible, Remy walked into the Starbucks in his business attire, having only bothered to throw on his leather jacket when he’d left the office. Not that his outfit was unplanned, he had made a point of wearing the same white button up shirt, black waistcoat, and matching black slim cut pants he’d been wearing when he first noticed the timer had stopped. If not for making sure his soulmate recognised him, then simply because he looked damn good.

It was a gamble, assuming his soulmate would be there today, but by now he was desperate. Remy knew the rules; after exactly a week was up, his timer would disappear for good and he’d never know who his soulmate was. And he wasn’t about to let that shit fly. No sirree. 

“Now, which one of you is it?”, Remy mumbled under his breath. As he stood just about to open the door and leave, Remy had memorised the men who were present in the cafe that fateful day; eight potential men, two eliminated visually over the first two days when he noted their timers were still going. Another three all eliminated themselves the days following as they revealed themselves to be straight, in a relationship, and very straight, in that order. Remy sighed impatiently as he perused the last three men he’d narrowed things down to.

The first was a short, burly man with chestnut brown hair that tickled his button nose while he leant over to pet the outrageously cute border collie sat by his chair. His cheeks were dusted with freckles that drew attention to his mossy green eyes and sunkissed skin. The blue polo shirt and tan shorts he wore clashed with the fact he clearly worked hard labour in the outdoors. Remy guessed he worked with plants going by his scuffed and dirty boots, and the mud on his pupper’s paws. Remy dubbed him, unsurprisingly, Dog Guy.

The second, Space Cadet, was a far departure from Dog guy; his auburn hair and pale skin spoke of celtic origins while his numerous books concerning the far reaches of the universe spoke of the cosmos. Of a man who harboured an intense scientific curiosity as deep as his sapphire eyes. His black shirt hidden under a dark blue flannel shirt showed the insignia of the local museum, which Remy found fitting. In the nicest way possible, Space Cadet looked like he belonged there with his pristine glasses and tidy upkeep that bordered on neurotic.

And the third man, Anxiety Magnet, was once more a drastic change from the other two. Dark skin melted into an all black outfit consisting of a black hoodie sporting custom purple patches - perhaps he made it himself, Remy couldn’t be sure - alongside black ripped skinny jeans. His purple sneakers matched his nailpolish and eyeshadow framing heterochromic brown and green eyes. Every time Remy would scope out the young man, he’d always be anxiously biting his nails, fidgeting with his napkins, or doodling in the notebooks (Remy noted three different ones at least) he brought with him.

Remy was in for a loooong ride but hopefully today he’d finally figure out which of these lucky doofuses is his soulmate.

He walked over to the counter to order his usual drink, giving the familiar barista a nod as the man recognised him,

“Afternoon, Remy,”, the barista smiled, “The usual for our beloved fairy godmother?”

Remy rolled his eyes fondly, “Roman, babes, kindly shut up.”

Roman laughed, “Come now, wouldn’t want you turning into the Evil Queen, would we?”

“Joke’s on you, babes, I like the Evil Queen.”

Roman feigned a dramatic gasp, only returning to making Remy’s usual once he’d secured a smile from the stressed office worker. Remy twirled his lanyard in his hands; Remy Merryweather. Of all names to be cursed with around a Disney fan like the barista, it HAD to be one of the uncool ones. Okay, maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad if Roman hadn’t insisted on labelling his drinks with “Flora”, “Fauna”, and “Aurora” ever since. Remy didn’t dwell too long on the kindly barista though, he was a man on a mission. 

Turning his attention to his first choice, Space Cadet, Remy watched him from the table he sat at; no wedding ring, his wrist was covered from sight, and he was most certainly gay going by the pride patches sewn into the backpack under his table. Perfect, he could just be the one.

As if on cue, Space Cadet shifted his watch and frowned. Perhaps he’d get lucky-

Ah, he’s leaving. Shit. Well, there was nothing else for it, Remy carefully nudged the trashcan by his seat as the man walked past, tripping him. The man let out a yelp and hit the floor. Remy was just getting up to help him when Anxiety Magnet came hurrying over out of the blue, 

“You alright?! That looked painful....”

What the fuck. Remy was about to speak up when Space Cadet locked eyes with Anxiety Magnet and for a moment the two were silent as the latter checked his timer, prompting the former to do the same. 

Son of a bitch.

Space Cadet sat up and reached a hand out to Anxiety Magnet, revealing that his timer had just stopped.

“Logan Baird, charmed to meet you, dear soulmate.”, he smiled warmly at the anxious man who helped him to his feet.

“Likewise,”,the anxious man responded, “Virgil Peyton. Nice to know my soulmate’s so handsome.”

Ugh. Remy watched as Space Cadet and Anxiety Magnet - or Logan and Virgil as he was now painfully aware - gathered up the fallen books and left together to go be happy and in love. While Remy could only watch as they did so. 

Fantastic. Well, at least he knew who his soulmate must be now. Who knew Dog Guy would be the top dog? Admittedly, Dog Guy was Remy’s last choice in a partner, but hey, after all the trouble he went to, he wasn’t about to argue with fate. Once Roman brought him his order - an iced, Ristretto, ten shot venti, with five pumps of vanilla, seven pumps of caramel, four packs of Splenda, and a sprinkle of cinnamon on top with “Prince Phillip” written on the cup this time - Remy made his way over to the lucky fellow.

“Excuse me, mind if I sit here?”, Remy asked as he approached the Dog Guy. 

The man smiled warmly, “Oh, not at all, kiddo! Hope you don’t mind my dog or things might get ruff!“. The joke made Remy want to drive his head into the ground at mach speeds, but if they were soulmates, he’d learn to love it. Hopefully. Maybe.

“Like, no worries babes, your dog is totes cute.”, Remy noted the man’s cheerful smile. He sat down and offered his name, “I’m Remy, what about you?”.

“Ah, how rude of me! I’m Patton Fairchild! And this is Foster!”, he gestured to the collie, “It’s nice to meet you Remy!”. Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad of a choice after all; he's bubbly, friendly, gentle, and Remy truly couldn’t deny the sexy lumberjack appeal.

“Likewise, though I hope I’m not intruding on anything here. Like, I don’t wanna take up your time if you’re here on a date or-”

“Goodness no, I’m not on a date! Don’t you worry, you’re not interrupting anything!”, he assured Remy.

“That’s good, I wouldn’t wanna get in the way of you and your soulmate, sweetie.”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about that,”, Patton stated, sending Remy’s hopes soaring before they shattered on the marble floor, “I don’t have one. I mean, I love love and all that, but I never much felt the lure of it myself!”

God. Fucking. Dammit.

Remy’s face fell. None of them were his soulmate. He stayed to talk to Dog Guy- Patton for a while so as not to make the poor guy feel awkward, then watched him leave. Another failure with not enough time left to find his soulmate. Remy sat alone, sipping the dregs of his order. He ignored the constant texts from the office as he stayed til near closing time. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have not paid attention when his timer hit zero? Maybe he deserved this; to be miserable and alone for his negligence. His soulmate probably wasn’t even missing him either. Or maybe they were and now they couldn’t find him-

“Mind if I sit here?”

Remy rolled his head towards Roman, taking in the sweet sympathy pouring from his rather lovely smile. In his hand he held a to-go cup and his work apron was replaced with a red and white letterman jacket. Great, now he was keeping the charming barista from going home. But when had Remy ever cared about not being selfish?

“Sure, take a fuckin’ seat, babes.“, he groaned, no longer caring about keeping up the facade of being more put together than he really was. Roman sat down with a concerned gaze and slowly slid the drink over to Remy.

“It’s green tea. It’s a little less extravagant than your usual tastes, but it’s good for relieving stress..”

Roman encouragingly tapped the cup lid, smiling contagiously, “And something tells me the Evil Queen has some tension she needs to release.”

Remy gave a slightly bitter laugh as he looked up from playing eye-contact-chicken with the table and noted the green tea read “Maleficent”. God, this guy’s such a dork.

“It’s more than just some tension, sweetie,”, Remy began, inhaling sharply as he sat up, “I’ve just realised I’m never going to find my soulmate. I was stupid. I wasn’t thinking and the moment I looked away, I missed him.”. The half-snort he gave came out so much more painful than intended, “I let my timer hit zero, babes, and now it’s almost been a full week. My last three chances just walked out the goddamn door. Two of them as fucking soulmates, Roman! How unfair is that?-”

Roman’s expression gave him pause. It wasn’t the sympathetic expression from before, more like he was seeing Remy for the first time. Like he’d made a cosmic realisation that was about to change his life.

“Your timer… when did yours stop exactly?”, he asked. The wording gave Remy pause as he realised. 

He hadn’t accounted for Roman. How could he have been so blind? Perhaps he couldn’t believe the charming barista could be the one. Perhaps he thought the man who smiled genuinely at him every day while he whittled down potential soulmates and greeted him with only the kindest of regards was too good for someone like him.

“It… stopped on Wednesday-”

“Around 2:15 pm? During the lunchtime rush?!”, Roman cut in excitedly. Remy was aghast as Roman pulled back the wrist of his letterman and revealed a stopped timer about as faded as Remy’s. With no hesitation, anticipation growing, Roman gently reached for Remy’s hand, which the latter offered enthusiastically. To their mutual delight, their timers disappeared, proving that they were indeed soulmates.

Both were stunned, Roman’s expression wildly happy, his brown eyes sparkling with equal elation and adoration. As Remy took in his gorgeous tanned skin, beautiful mocha hair, and that wonderful chiseled face he had the growing urge to caress and litter with kisses, all he could say in the moment was,

“Does this mean you’ll finally spell my fucking name right?”

--

This one was so much fun to write! I think this is the one piece of writing where I mostly nailed Remy’s character, so I hope this one does well TTvTT @tsshipmonth2020

#tsshipmonth2020 #roman sanders #remy sanders #sleep sanders #rosleep #soulmate september #coffee shop au #basically #fanfics #my fics #sleepingbeauty #thats the other name for the ship right #otherwise i put all the sleeping beauty references in there for nothing #anyway i really like this one ehe

[disregardcanon]

2021′s fanfiction roundup y’all

Total Stories Written:14. hoo boy. that number hurts me

Total Words Written: 65,759! i wrote more because i’ve got some half-finished drafts sitting around, but this is what i got posted

Average Words Per Story: 4,697

Shortest Story: who would inhabit this bleak world alone? clocking in at 972

Longest: nostalgic for disaster clocking in at 11,547

Looking back, did you write more fic than you thought you would this year, less, or about what you’d predicted?

the answer is always “less”. i started writing fic while i was a lonely high school student with a clear schedule, so i’ll always have that unreasonable expectation of a HIGH production rate hanging over me.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write most?

pairing: i guess jon/martin because it’s literally the only thing i wrote twice this year? lol

genre: what if characters made bad choices and hurt each other? what if?

fandom: the magnus archives! i also wrote for atla, the it movies, hades game, gravity falls, nbc hannibal, spop, tdt, arrowverse, and rwby

What  pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted  in January?

uh, so wrote a physical manifestation of my depression that ended up as BILLDIP, which i never once expected to write. so that would be it.

nostalgic for disaster

Did you take any writing risks this year? oh yeah, most definitely. i wrote a lot darker material this year, and i got VERY descriptive. at least two of my fics were “character a watches on while character b meets a terrible fate” so.

Do you have any fanfic or general writing goals for the new year?

lol, last year’s response was “i would  frankly just like the time and energy TO write. this year has been the  most stressful and depressing time of my life and that’s reflected in my  writing output. i would like to see more output because i have more  energy and drive to do the things that make me happy again” which is. so sad. because THIS year was now the most stressful and depressing time of my life. who knew? 

my fic writing goal for next year is just to enjoy it, i suppose. also maybe write more in melting pot and a sequel to blinding an eye

From the past year of writing, what was your…

Best story of this year: nostalgic for disaster. apparently, a mix of intense visual imagery, strong action, and emotions so potent that this thing literally hurt me to write makes for a quality story. who knew?

Personal favorite: this one’s a bit difficult to nail down, but i think i’ll go with Adults Aren’t Completely Useless. if nostalgic for disaster helped me realized Oh Yeah I’m Really Fucking Depressed and DO Need To Quit This Job, then this fic was a eulogy for my teaching career. i really did write the closest thing i’ve ever managed to a self insert and then let her try, ineffectively, to help a post-mr. spider child jon. that was how i mourned my teaching career, y’all

Most  under-appreciated: surviving is a virtue. this fic is some of my best work, and it’s been out for 9 months and been met by... 27 kudos. i haven’t written a ton of rwby fic yet, but i really do think that this  is a good one. it’s a strong exploration of raven as a character, her relationship with summer, and the possibility that she knew that summer got grimmified.

Most fun to write: May Answering Machine Breakups Be Forgot (And Never Brought to Mind) because writing a fic that’s just a big party of friends having fun was, unsurprisingly, a delight

Story with the single sexiest moment: consubstantial. this was basically the only fic i wrote this year that remembered that sex was a thing.

Most challenging to write: In Which “Adoption” Means Kidnapping! this fic involved a lot of intense violence, prejudice/fictional racism, cultural world-building, child trauma, and imperialism. it was very difficult to write and continues to be (i’m still working in this verse) but i am so pleased that i worked through it. there’s just so much potential here. it’s dear to my heart (sokka screaming in the distance)

Biggest disappointment: frankly, nothing i wrote this year can be a  disappointment because i put words on a page. however, if i’m going to call any of them “least favorite” it would be A Reverse Flash Friendly Doomworld. i basically just wanted that out of my drafts since it was there for... 4 years now? lol

Favorite character to write: bill cipher! i’ve never written bill before in any of my prior gravity falls fics, and bill is an absolute delight. he’s hilarious and terrifying, and you can be soooo creative with the way that he moves and speaks. i would write him again in a heartbeat

Favorite opening lines:

Captain Cheng is a simple man. He likes good Caldera whisky. He likes delicate Earth Kingdom women who wear traditional makeup and giggle as they tilt their little fans. He likes his annual trips to Ember Island during his leave from the navy. He likes being in charge of a ship, watching the crewmembers work like cogs in a well-oiled machine that he’s the master of.

He does not like the South Pole one bit.

In Which “Adoption” Means Kidnapping

Caroline Keen has never been quick to judge. Whenever she sees something strange, she makes an excuse and turns the other way. As a child, it was always her sister who went digging into everything to find out the answers. Amelia wanted to know everything; Caroline just wanted to stay in her own little corner and play with her dolls in peace.

Adults Aren’t Completely Useless

Favorite closing lines:

Surviving is a virtue, after all. At least it is when you survive in a form you recognize.

Raven’s still not sure that she’s done that, but close enough. Better a bandit queen than a lapdog.

surviving is a virtue

He feels the power emanating off of him- Bill’s miasma pushing out into the air. Maybe that’s what repelled everyone, all these years. The mix of enchantment and terror being pulsated into the air like a fog. It should have kept Dipper away too, he thinks. But that doesn’t mean that it will. Their family isn’t always known for their strong decision making skills.

Dipper’s breath catches in his throat. He coughs, trying to steady his voice. He’s already decided on this. He just needs to say the words. Just needs to shake the damn hand and say the words. So he does. The concrete slides off Bill’s newly made skin like a lava slide down a volcano. His little black hand glows bright blue with flame. His lips curl into a disgusting, corrupted smile.

Dipper’s voice does not hesitate as he says, “I’m ready to make a deal.”

nostalgic for disaster

Jon turns away from the Lecter-Graham domain. He has his own post apocalyptic quest to return to. A world to save, perhaps. At least a thousand domains still left to explore.

Maybe this counts as his honeymoon too. He’ll have to ask Martin.

honeymoon in the wreckage

Other favorite lines:

When she was little, she used to sit down on the ground by her mother's feet, working on her own canvas while she watched her mother. She tried to paint her mother’s paintings, the way that children always try to copy. When her mother got mad about Hennessy copying her work stroke for stroke, Hennessy had asked, "But I want to be like you?" Children were supposed to want to copy their parents, she'd thought.

a copy, a forgery, a masterpiece

“I suppose I should thank you,” Zagreus says, “this abundance of free time helped me to decide what I’m going to do.” Escape has been in the back of his brain for years, but he never thought to pursue it. Not until his father cemented the fact that he didn’t view him as a proper heir.

If At First You Don’t Succeed

“Magic that doesn’t want me to remember you?” Mike asks cautiously. Bill takes a moment to compose his thoughts.

“Is the magic homophobic or something?” Mike asks. That startles a laugh from Bill’s lips.

“No, it’s just. It doesn’t want you to remember Derry .”

pages turn and stick to each other

Secrets were an act of love, and his parents kept no secrets from him.

Declan knew where that left him.

On the outs: the child of neither of them. Dauntless Declan kept around only to keep the others safe.

Secrets As A Sign of Love

"You both killed him," Elias says, murder in his eyes, "Habeus Corpus isn’t necessary when the murderer is right by the corpse, fingerprints all over the weapon.” He gestures to Jon’s body still splayed out in the chair, blood still dripping into the floorboards.

blinding an eye

“It’s not my fault that Basira’s so charming it temporarily blinded me to the evils of policing,” he says. Georgie rolls her eyes.

 “She really is,” Melanie says. Apparently, attraction to Basira is the second thing that they can agree on.

 Melanie looks right at Jon, and stage whispers, “When we first started dating, I actually watched a few police shows.” Jon gasps like an elderly woman in an American drama.

 “And liked them.”

 Georgie gently slaps her wrist. “Mel!”

May Answering Machine Breakups Be Forgot (And Never Brought To Mind)

#end of year writing meme #2021 writing meme #writing meme #sunkelles writes

[linastudyblrsblog]

Burnout, unfortunately, is everywhere. If you haven’t experienced it personally, you probably know someone who has self-diagnosed.

 Defined by the World Health Organization as a syndrome “conceptualized as resulted from chronic workplace stress,” it causes exhaustion, “feelings of negativism or cynicism,” and reduced efficacy. That’s a big umbrella, and the condition has become something of a catch-all for chronic, modern-day stress. 

Here are 11 of our favorites to help you create your own escape plan:

1. Figure out which kind of burnout you have.

The Association for Psychological Science found that burnout comes in three different types, and each one needs a different solution:

1. Overload: The frenetic employee who works toward success until exhaustion, is most closely related to emotional venting. These individuals might try to cope with their stress by complaining about the organizational hierarchy at work, feeling as though it imposes limits on their goals and ambitions. That coping strategy, unsurprisingly, seems to lead to a stress overload and a tendency to throw in the towel.

2. Lack of Development: Most closely associated with an avoidance coping strategy. These under-challenged workers tend to manage stress by distancing themselves from work, a strategy that leads to depersonalization and cynicism — a harbinger for burning out and packing up shop.

3. Neglect: Seems to stem from a coping strategy based on giving up in the face of stress. Even though these individuals want to achieve a certain goal, they lack the motivation to plow through barriers to get to it

2. Cut down and start saying “no.”

Every “yes” you say adds another thing on your plate and takes more energy away from you, and your creativity:

If you take on too many commitments, start saying ‘no’. If you have too many ideas, execute a few and put the rest in a folder labeled ‘backburner’. If you suffer from information overload, start blocking off downtime or focused worktime in your schedule (here are some tools that may help). Answer email at set times. Switch your phone off, or even leave it behind. The world won’t end. I promise.

3.  Give up on getting motivated.

With real burnout mode, you’re too exhausted to stay positive. So don’t:

When you’re mired in negative emotions about work, resist the urge to try to stamp them out. Instead, get a little distance — step away from your desk, focus on your breath for a few seconds — and then just feel the negativity, without trying to banish it. Then take action alongside the emotion. Usually, the negative feelings will soon dissipate. Even if they don’t, you’ll be a step closer to a meaningful achievement.

4.  Treat the disease, not the symptoms. 

For real recovery and prevention to happen, you need to find the real, deeper issue behind why you’re burnt out:

Instead of overreacting to the blip, step back from it, see it as an incident instead of an indictment, and then examine it like Sherlock Holmes looking for clues.

For example, you could ask yourself: What happened before the slip? Did I encounter a specific trigger event such as a last-minute client request? Was there an unusual circumstance such as sickness? When did I first notice the reversion in my behavior? Is some part of this routine unsustainable and if so, how could I adjust it to make it more realistic?

5.  Make downtime a daily ritual.

To help relieve pressure, schedule daily blocks of downtime to refuel your brain and well-being. It can be anything from meditation to a nap, a walk, or simply turning off the wifi for a while:

When it comes to scheduling, we will need to allocate blocks of time for deep thinking. Maybe you will carve out a 1-2 hour block on your calendar every day for taking a walk or grabbing a cup of coffee and just pondering some of those bigger things. I can even imagine a day when homes and apartments have a special switch that shuts down wi-fi and data access during dinner or at night – just to provide a temporary pause from the constant flow of status updates and other communications…

There is no better mental escape from our tech-charged world than the act of meditation. If only for 15 minutes, the ability to steer your mind away from constant stimulation is downright liberating. There are various kinds of meditation. Some forms require you to think about nothing and completely clear your mind. (This is quite hard, at least for me.) Other forms of meditation are about focusing on one specific thing – often your breath, or a mantra that you repeat in your head (or out loud) for 10-15 minutes…

If you can’t adopt meditation, you might also try clearing your mind the old fashioned way – by sleeping. The legendary energy expert and bestselling author Tony Schwartz takes a 20-minute nap every day. Even if it’s a few hours before he presents to a packed audience, he’ll take a short nap.

6.  Stop being a perfectionist; start satisficing.

Trying to maximize every task and squeeze every drop of productivity out of your creative work is a recipe for exhaustion and procrastination. Set yourself boundaries for acceptable work and stick to them:

Consistently sacrificing your health, your well being, your relationships, and your sanity for the sake of living up to impossible standards will lead to some dangerous behaviors and, ironically, a great deal of procrastination. Instead of saying, “I’ll stay up until this is done,” say, “I’ll work until X time and then I’m stopping. I may end up needing to ask for an extension or complete less than perfect work. But that’s OK. I’m worth it.” Making sleep, exercise, and downtime a regular part of your life plays an essential role in a lasting, productive creative career.

7.  Track your progress every day.

Keeping track allows you to see exactly how much is on your plate, not only day-to-day, but consistently over time:

Disappointing feedback can be painful at first – research shows that failure and losses can hurt twice as much as the pleasure of equivalent gains. But if you discover you’re off course, reliable feedback shows you by how much, and you then have the opportunity to take remedial action and to plot a new training regime or writing schedule. The temporary pain of negative feedback is nothing compared with the crushing experience of project failure. Better to discover that you’re behind and need to start writing an hour earlier each day, than to have your book contract rescinded further down the line because you’ve failed to deliver.

8.  Change location often.

Entrepreneurs or freelancers can be especially prone to burnout. Joel Runyon plays “workstation popcorn,” in which he groups tasks by location and then switches, in order to keep work manageable, provide himself frequent breaks, and spend his time efficiently:

You find yourself spending hours at your computer, dutifully “working” but getting very little done. You finish each day with the dreaded feeling that you’re behind, and that you’re only falling farther and farther behind. You’re buried below an ever-growing to-do list. There’s a feeling of dread that tomorrow is coming, and that it’s bringing with it even more work that you probably won’t be able to get ahead on.

List out everything you need to do today. Try to be as specific as you can…Next, break that list into three sections. Step 1: Go to cafe [or desk, a different table in your office, etc.] #1. Step 2: Start working on item group #1…Once you finish all the tasks in group #1, get up and move. Close your tabs, pack your bags, and physically move your butt to your next spot. If you can, walk or bike to your next stop…When you get to the next cafe [or spot], start on the next action item group, and repeat…

When you’ve completed everything on your to-do list for the day, you are done working. Relax, kick back, and live your life. Don’t take work home with you because that won’t help you get more done – it will just wear you out.

9.  Don’t overload what downtime you do get.

Vacations themselves can cause, or worsen burnout, with high-stress situations, expectations, and sleep interruption. Use it to help in recovery from burnout instead: 

Make a flexible itinerary a priority. [A] study from Radboud University found that effective vacations give you the choice and freedom to choose what you want to do. That means two things: Try to avoid structuring your vacation around an unbreakable schedule, and plan on going somewhere that has multiple options to pick from depending on the weather, your level of energy, or your budget.

10. Write yourself fan mail.

Seth Godin uses self-fan mail as a way to keep motivated instead of burning out on a project that seems far from completion:

I define non-clinical anxiety as, “experiencing failure in advance.” If you’re busy enacting a future that hasn’t happened yet, and amplifying the worst possible outcomes, it’s no wonder it’s difficult to ship that work. With disappointment, I note that our culture doesn’t have an easily found word for the opposite. For experiencing success in advance. For visualizing the best possible outcomes before they happen. Will your book get a great testimonial? Write it out. Will your talk move someone in the audience to change and to let you know about it? What did they say? Will this new product gain shelf space at the local market? Take a picture. Writing yourself fan mail in advance, and picturing the change you’ve announced you’re trying, to make is an effective way to push yourself to build something that actually generates that action.

  11. Break projects into bite-sized pieces.

Taking a task on in one entire lump can be exhausting and provide little room for rest in between. Breaking up your projects into set chunks with their own deadlines provides a much healthier, and easier, way of completing a large project:

The default take on deadlines is typically to consider them to be cumbersome and stressful. Yet, from another perspective, a deadline can be viewed as a huge benefit to any project. Without the urgency of a hard deadline pushing a project to completion, it’s easy for you, your team, or your client to lose focus. We’ve all worked on agonizing projects where the timeline just bleeds on and on, merely because the flexibility is there…

It turns out that the manner in which a task is presented to someone – or the way in which you present it to your brain – has a significant impact on how motivated you will be to take action. A study led by researcher Sean McCrea at the University of Konstanz in Germany recently found that people are much more likely to tackle a concrete task than an abstract task… It seems to me like the difference between being handed a map versus following the step-by-step instructions of a GPS device. Not everyone can read a map, but everyone can follow the directions. By breaking your project down into smaller, well-described tasks, the way forward becomes clear and it’s easy to take action.

#studyblr #study tips #studying #studyspo #studyinspo #student life #study #100 days of productivity #productivity #studyblr masterpost #studyblr blog #masterpost #graphicwork #infographic #graphic design #burnout #avoid burnout #university #uniblr #self improvement #dark acadamia aesthetic #classic academia #time management #studygloom #studygram #aesthetics #inspritaion #lifestyle #college #motivation

[marshmallow-phd]

Catching Rain

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Minseok x Reader

Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue

**

The beams of sunlight fell down from the wide open sky, placing warm yet gentle kisses on your cheeks and nose. It was rare for the weather to be so nice this time of year. Usually, the bitterness of winter was still holding on. But today, spring was reminding you that it was just around the corner. The heavy, feather-stuffed coat could be kept in the closet, at least for today. The striped flannel was more than enough protection from the slight breeze though you barely noticed its touch. Above you, the sky was a dazzling pastel blue with only a few puffs of white here and there.

You fingers itched down by your side where they kept you steady on the stone table where you sat. It was truly a beautiful day, too beautiful for late February. The lighting was too perfect to be ignored. With enough coverage so the shot wouldn’t be overwhelmed….

“What are you plotting?”

Your eyes snap open and you look down at your best friend. The thought had only just popped into your head. How she could read you so easily was truly terrifying at times. “Nothing,” you lied coolly. “I’m not plotting anything.”

Willa rolled her eyes. “Please. You had that smirk on your face and your fingers were practically dancing on the table. You’re easier to read than you think.”

“(y/n), please tell me you’re not going to go out into the woods again?” Erik looked up from his tablet with pleading eyes. His wire-rimmed glasses were perched on the tip of his nose, giving him a childlike quality. The wind ruffled his sandy hair. He squinted up at you with concern. You were a bit surprised that he’d caught the conversation, given how concentrated he was on his drawing. “You remember what happened last time.”

Of course you did. You were there, weren’t you? Sure, to say that it wasn’t a slightly scary experience would be a lie. But it was something you’d expected to happen eventually considering your outside activities.

A branch knocked loose by the storm from the night before had fallen from its perch, hitting you in the head. While you remained conscious, you were disoriented and had trouble finding your way back to the city. It was nearly dark by the time you made it to your car, but you had no issues driving yourself to the emergency room. The doctor declare you fine beyond the small gash atop your head, however he still preferred someone else to drive you home. Poor Erik nearly had a heart attack when he found you sitting in a hospital bed with dried blood on your face.

“It was a freak accident,” you reassured him. “Not likely to happen again.”

“But the odds still exist,” he argued. You “hmphed” at him. Why was he suddenly spouting statistics at you?

“Not to mention, there have been more wolf sightings,” Willa added, earning a glare from you. Wasn’t she supposed to be on your side?

But you couldn’t stay mad at them for long. Your brain was too logical, too in tune with being able to understand people to ignore their side of the argument. Hopping down from the table, you gave in. “Alright, I get it! You guys are saying no ventures into the trees where I get the most beautiful photographs I’ve ever taken. Noted.”

“You are such a city girl,” Willa said teasingly. It was true, though.

Throughout your childhood, your exposure to nature was the local park with its scarily overweight squirrels and hordes of annoying ants. It was a shock to your family when you chose to go to college outside of the city you knew and loved, electing to attend a smaller campus surrounded by woods and a good two hours from the nearest airport. They didn’t think you would be happy so far away. But you needed the change. You wanted to challenge yourself. Besides, if you hadn’t come out here, you wouldn’t have met Willa or Erik. And they made you very happy indeed.

Swiping up your bag from the bench, you gave Erik a quick kiss goodbye and waved to Willa. “I’ll see you guys after class.”

Willa grimaced. “Actually, I have to work.”

Erik looked equally as guilty. “And I’m meeting with Don to help out the theatre department.”

Perfect. “Don’t worry about it,” you said with feigned of disappointment. “I’ll survive. Maybe take some pictures of downtown. I’ll see you guys later.” With both of them occupied, there was no one check in on you. And you hadn’t exactly promised either of them….

Your light steps from the free evening grew heavier as you came closer to the building that the math-related classes called home.

Truly, this was your own fault. No one should have allowed you to pick your own schedule. The first two and a half years of college were spent taking all the fun, digital art major-related classes you could. The idea that you would eventually have to take the general studies classes was a problem for future you to handle. And that’s what brought you here: almost to the end of the finish line and now you were stuck taking all the subjects that you weren’t good at in order to actually graduate on time next year with your bachelors and qualify to move on to the masters. You hadn’t pinned down exactly what you would focus on when that time came, but it meant staying here, with Erik. And you loathed the idea of being left behind while your friends moved on with their lives.

The main hall inside was buzzing with voices as dozens of students hung about, arguing over answers and whining about what they would do once the weekend had finally arrived. Words mixed in with the clacking of keyboards and the faint scribbling of hurried pencils that didn’t do the homework the night before. It always amazed you how loud this place could be. Your earlier assumptions had made you think that this hall would be a second library, with stressed out students shushing each other so they could concentrate. But really, it felt more like the cafeteria; a social hangout before life interrupted again.

The classroom was mostly full by the time you arrived. Rows of crooked desks filled up two-thirds of the room with just enough space for the GTA to stand at the whiteboard and not be uncomfortable or crowded. Taking your normal seat near the front – which was unsurprisingly empty for the most part - you took out your notebook and pencil, ready jot down the main points of the day’s lesson. Until then, you scroll through the endless stream of social media on your phone.

While you were normally a friendly person, you’d elected at the beginning of the winter semester to stay serious and not give in to any distractions during this period. Because you knew yourself and you knew that you would give in to any temptation to not pay attention during this hour and a half, including talking to the shy freshman girl behind you who looked desperate for some form of friendship.

Two minutes before the class was scheduled to begin, the GTA walked in, a binder tucked under his arm and a messenger bag hanging from his shoulder. None of the conversations slowed down as he unpacked his laptop on the old desk situated in the front. Even as he opened it up and cleared his throat, the whispered chatting went on. It didn’t help that he wasn’t the most authoritative-looking person. He was on the shorter side with a friendly face that made him feel more like a peer than a teacher. Or maybe it was just because he was closer to your age that made you feel that way. It certainly didn’t help that he asked to be called by his first name rather than the typical formal address that you’d been raised with.

Sungkyu smiled brightly as he stood up. The marker made a pop when he uncapped it. “We’ll start on page ninety-nine, chapter four part two.”

That was how he started each class. No hello or good afternoons with mumbled replies. Straight to the lesson without forcing everyone to pretend like they were excited to be there or demanding a more energetic reply. Perhaps that was the one advantage of having a GTA. They knew what nonsense to skip.

An hour and a half later, you were free. Sure, your brain felt a bit like mush from concentrating so hard on the algebra equations, but now you could relax. Since that was your last class of the day, you were back to that lightness, with that spring in your step. The sun had somehow become brighter, even more inviting in the small amount of time you’d spent indoors. How could you ignore the call now?

Back in your dorm, you unloaded your backpack of the unneeded supplies for your venture. Out came the textbooks and binders that were neatly organized. In their place came a water bottle from the mini fridge you and Willa kept between your beds, a couple of granola bars you stashed away for emergencies, and the leather bound sketchpad Erik had given you for your birthday last year that housed all the photo ideas that randomly popped into your head throughout the day. Checking your watch, you assumed that you had a good three or four hours before your absence was discovered. A slight sense of adventure tingled in your chest as you slung your bag over your shoulder and scooped up your camera case from the foot of your bed.

You didn’t look back as you left the dorm and headed for your car. When – because it was a matter of time, not if – Erik and Willa found out, they’d be sure to lecture you until the end of time. But you had a feeling that it would be worth it. What was that famous saying again? Better to ask forgiveness than permission?

As much as you appreciated their concern and understood where they were coming from, the trees were calling out to you, begging to be captured within the lens of your camera. The photographer that lived inside urged you on. If they were really that upset, you’d make them dinner to make up for it.

**

Minseok wasn’t hiding per se. He simply needed a quiet place to grade these papers and with eight other rowdy wolves coming in and out of the house, “quiet” was not exactly an easy thing to find. So… yes, he was sort of hiding in his car in the detached garage. It wouldn’t be for much longer; he only had two or three more assignments to look over and, at this point, he had the answers memorized, meaning he didn’t have to stop and look at the key every five seconds.

Blowing out air, Minseok ran a hand through his black hair as he leaned back. Sometimes he wondered why he took up this position. He didn’t need to. It wasn’t required for him like it was in other masters degrees. But the offer was given and he took it. Maybe he liked the excuse that he was busy so he couldn’t go out with the younger wolves all the time. Unlike the extroverts who knew every restaurant and bar in town like the back of their hands, he preferred it out here, in the woods. Homebody felt like an understatement.

Finally through with grading, he neatly packed the papers away into his bag (divided by clear plastic folders labeled by class) and got out of the car. He left the garage with a smile on his face. Before his feet could hit the first porch step, his name rang out in the field. 

“Minseok!”

He half-laughed, half-sighed as he shook his head. He shouldn’t be surprised that he was discovered the moment he left the safety of the garage.

Running towards him as he turned around were the three goofballs of the pack: Baekhyun, Chanyeol, and Jongdae. Their faces and clothes were covered in mud, making Minseok take a step back.

“Where have you been?” Chanyeol asked when they came to a stop in front of him. Thankfully, they kept their distance. Now Minseok just needed to keep them from going in the house.

“Grading papers,” Minseok replied. He wasn’t going to reveal where he was grading them.

“That sounds boring,” Baekhyun said with an expression that made it seem like he’d smelled something bad. Although, given his current state, that was quiet possible.

Jongdae whipped his hair, sending tiny droplets of muddy water everywhere. Minseok jumped back in an effort to dodge them, which sent the former into a laughing fit.

“Come on, Minseok,” Jongdae waved his hand through the air, still trying to catch his breath from laughing so hard. “You know, wolves aren’t supposed to mind getting dirty.”

“Wolves, no. Humans, yes.” The eldest wolf eyed the three of them. “Well, most humans, anyway.”

Smiling broadly and unbothered, Chanyeol made a move towards the porch.

“No,” Minseok said firmly, blocking the giant’s path. Putting his bag down on the porch he pointed to the side. “Go around and use the hose. You’ll get mud everywhere.”

“We’ll clean it up,” Jongdae whined.

“Not to his standards,” Baekhyun chuckled. Completely unbothered, he followed orders and ran to the back of the house. At first, Chanyeol pouted as well, but then he must have found the fun in the idea because only a few seconds later he was ripping his shirt over his head and running after his best friend.

Jongdae gave one last look of pleading. “Can I please go inside and take a shower?”

Minseok nodded. “After you use the hose.”

“But it’s cold.”

But wolves don’t get cold. Minseok went to pat the poor guy on the back, but then stopped, remembering why he wasn’t letting him inside in the first place. “Rinse off and then we’ll go for a real run to dry you off.”

Jongdae mulled over the offer. Grinning, he said, “Deal!” He was back behind the house in the blink of an eye.

Looking over at his bag, Minseok contemplated his options. He could leave it there and risk one of the guys forgetting the “hands-off” rule or he could take it upstairs to his room, leaving those three alone with the water hose for five minutes. It might not sound like a terrible option, but Minseok had known them long enough to understand that they could find trouble without even looking for it.

He decided to go with the second option anyway, knowing his students’ papers would at least be safe.

Just inside the living room, Sehun was glued to the TV screen, controller in hand. He was pressing down on the buttons with more force than necessary. The maknae would never admit it, but he was too competitive when it came to video games. One time, Minseok walked in on Baekhyun whacking Sehun on the head with the plastic controller because he was getting beat so badly. Thankfully, this time Sehun was alone. If he remembered correctly, Jongin and Yixing were in class while Junmyeon was conducting his office hours. At least the four of them took school seriously.

Minseok didn’t bother greeting Sehun as he made his way through the living room and up the stairs.

His bedroom, pristine and magazine-worthy – was at the end of the hall, near Junmyeon’s master. It was a good thing that Junmyeon’s great-to-however-many-degrees-grandfather thought to build a large farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. The alpha didn’t think that it had ever been quite this full since it had mostly been just his family that occupied the walls in the past, but the foresight to think of a larger pack down the line had been there. Each of the wolves were able to have their own rooms, their own space. Given how sloppy some of the others could be, Minseok was thankful. It hadn’t always been that way, but those days were long gone.

Near the beginning when Minseok first officially joined the pack, he’d tried living alone in his parents’ old place in town. The call to be together, with his brothers, was too great. It was an uncomfortable feeling. To this day he wasn’t sure if it was the wolf’s nature that caused it or simply the fact that, as the eldest, he worried about the younger wolves and preferred to be around where he could keep an eye on them. That meant that the peace and quiet was over, but sacrifices could be made and he was much happier here, anyway.

Placing his bag on the desk, Minseok sighed to himself before heading back downstairs where trouble waited.

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Chanyeol, Bakehyun, and Jongdae had turned rinsing off into a full on water war. Pretty much all the mud had been washed away, but that didn’t stop them from stealing the hose from each other and creating new mud in the backyard. They were all without their shirts, showing they were in this for the long hall.

At one point, Jongdae had snuck behind Chanyeol, who currently had possession of the garden hose, and twisted the rubber tube to stop the flow of water. Confused, Chanyeol looked directly in the mouth to discover the reason why. Which meant he fell right into Jongdae’s trap. The troll let go of the hose and the water came rushing back, spraying like a geyser in Chanyeol’s face.

Jongdae fell backwards onto his butt with how hard he was laughing. Chanyeol whipped around to get him back, catching Minseok in the crossfire.

Chanyeol cringed guilty. “Oops. Sorry.”

Minseok chuckled it off. It was just a shirt. “It’s alright. I promised Jongdae a run anyway. It’ll be dry by the time we get back.”

Baekhyun perked up. “A run?”

Minseok nodded. “Yes, you can come, too.” He was already undoing the buttons, folding the shirt and placing it on the ground once it was off. Maybe this run was what he needed. He wasn’t sure what difference it could possibly make. He’d been on hundreds of runs in the past. But something told him to go now. So, once he was ready, he shifted onto all fours and ran after the other wolves who’d already almost reached the tree line.

#exo #exo wolf au #exo wolf!au #minseok x reader #kim minseok #xiumin #exo werewolf!au #exo werewolf au #exo supernatural au #exo series #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #untamed wolf universe #Catching Rain

[dreamboatisland]

when i met you | j.w.

Summary: You weren’t supposed to meet Jeff in the middle of a random bar three days after your ex left you for someone else, but here you are.

Pairing: Jeff Wittek x reader

Word Count: 1534

Warnings: drinking, small mentions of cheating

A/N: Well, may I present to you my first piece of writing. I don’t know, it sounded good when I wrote it at 2am, but do let me know what you think!

The day you met Jeff, you were drunk, managed to spill an entire glass of vodka on him, and rant to him about how your boyfriend broke up with you to get back with his ex. Needless to say you didn’t leave his side that night. And the next morning, when you woke up on his couch in his hoodie, you left a thank you note underneath a camera on the coffee table.

This didn’t happen often. Or at all. Always perceived as the good girl of your friend group, you seldom went out at all. Instead preferring the company of some good old Netflix and popcorn. Whenever the girls went out and insisted you come with, they knew to expect some other plans to come up for you. And while they were not real most of the time, they were for a good reason. It wasn’t that you didn’t like your friends, it was just the social aspect you didn’t like. And they understood that. Sometimes.

That changed when you met him. You met Jonathan in the library looking for a book for Alison, your friend who wasn’t able to go because she got called into work early. And you offered to go for her and when you saw him, it felt like fate. Granted there was an immediate attraction, but that connection between you two grew over the course of several dates. After you thanked Alison for sending you to pick up her book about how to properly know your weeds from your flowers.

But you should have recognized the signs. Everything was perfect for the first six months. You were infatuated with him and he with you. Until he wasn’t. It started with forgetting dates scheduled beforehand. Then it moved to the petty small arguments he started over something insignificant. It eventually reached the point where your friends would tell you they were seeing him with other girls around town. It’s not like you didn’t believe them, you just refused to acknowledge it. That was until he told you he was dumping you. Really the signs were all there, but why you didn’t connect the dots was a mystery. And that’s why on the third night after the break-up you called up Alison and told her you wanted to go out and to let the others know.

You weren’t ready to meet Jeff that night. Not at all. He was just in the way of you coming from the bar to getting to your friends and the table you claimed. But with his long swooping locks and the piercing eyes, you couldn’t help, but get involved. If you were sober, it would have been different. You would have held your own. Apologized for spilling your drink and moved away from him. But he was a force to be reckoned with.

And after many drinks consumed by you and water by him, you were too intoxicated to even locate where you were.

He took it upon himself to look after you. You who had spilled alcohol all over his sweatshirt and grabbed the nearest napkin and began wiping it off all while apologizing profusely. He noticed the glossy look over your eyes. You were already drunk and who was he to blame. He was after all the one who bumped into you. And when you started going on a rant about how you were always messing things up and how you were a failure, he softened towards you. Before even knowing why you were here in this lousy excuse of a club, one that David had dragged them all to upon discovering the cheap alcohol prices which was as good as any excuse for content, he knew you were going through some things. He’s been there. Who hasn’t. Just wanting to forget. Forget the pain or the guilt or just any feelings at all. So later when you wouldn’t leave his side and continued to talk to him about mindless things, he was okay with that.

Eventually when you became too intoxicated to even stand, he found some of your friends you had pointed out while in conversation with him. Unluckily for him, they were all just as drunk as you or even worse. Without having any clue as to where you lived, he took the gamble. Rather you go home with him where he could keep an eye on you than with some creep out on the street who might’ve taken a liking to you.

Explaining to David that he was leaving, he brought you outside to wait for an uber. Leaning on him throughout the ride and explaining which was the better phone brand between iphones and androids, all he could do was smile at you. He hadn’t ever met anyone quite like you. LA was filled with a lot of fake people who would do anything to climb the social ladder. You were a breath of fresh air. If you were like this drunk, he would like to know what you were like sober.

Over the course of four hours, he managed to learn a lot about you. Things you only said to people you were close with, but of course those things came out when you were drunk. He knew that you preferred to sleep with a blanket but no bottoms. You felt more comfortable. You liked to have a hot cup of tea in the morning. A great way to start the day. You enjoyed taking long, hot showers. It helps your stress. So when he helped you into his apartment and sat you down on the couch, he left to get you some clothes to change from the dress that was undoubtedly uncomfortable and sticky due to the heat of the club. He checked his cabinets to see if he had any tea and medicine to help when you woke up with a hangover. He didn’t. Which he made a mental note of. Maybe to head to the grocery store before you woke up. He knew a shower was out of the question for you at this time, so he instead prepped it for when you woke up.

After some help with changing you into a pair of shorts, he didn’t want you to wake up bottomless in a strangers’ apartment, and a recently washed hoodie of his, he tried helping you walk to his bed, where he just changed the bedsheets. But you knew, deep down you understood that he was already too generous. Which led to you being adamant about sleeping on the couch. He realized after a few minutes of arguing that you weren’t going to budge, so he instead resorted to making you as comfortable as possible on the couch. He brought out plenty of blankets for you and some of the fluffiest pillows he could find. And once your head touched those pillows, you were out.

He didn’t understand why he felt the need to take care of you. Yeah you weren��t like other people he had met in this town, but it didn’t help pinpoint why he had decided to let you stick by him. If it had been any other person who had spilled their drink on him he was sure that he would have ended up in David’s new vlog for being in a fight. But he gazed into your eyes and they swayed him. Your eyes managed to render him speechless. There were so many emotions going through them. He wanted to know you. Wanted to understand those intense feelings behind those glossy covered eyes. Not only feeling pain, due to the talking you had with him about your ex, but other emotions there too. Almost as if they were lying dormant. And he knew without a doubt that he could uncover those emotions.

So that was why when he woke up earlier than you on purpose, he set out on going to buy some tea for you. As a foundation to try to get you to warm up to him. While you certainly opened up to him last night, he wanted to know sober you.

And when you woke up tangled between some blankets in a house that wasn’t yours, you panicked. Until the memories started to slowly resurface when you looked around. You didn’t hear any noise throughout the room, so you assumed he was sleeping in his room. Which is why that led to you leaving a thank you note for him. Although you understood he had done a lot for you last night, you didn’t think you had enough courage to face him. You weren’t acting like yourself last night. Granted, it was the you that you hoped to be, but didn’t have enough of the courage to actually be. After locating your clothes that you wore last night and your phone which was unsurprisingly dead, you decided to leave.

But what you didn’t expect was for him to be standing at the door when you opened it, keys in hand, bags in the other, and a smile on his face. And you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Do you maybe wanna stay for breakfast?”

“Yeah I’d like that very much.”

#jeff wittek imagine #jeff wittek #jeff wittek x reader #vlog squad #vlog squad imagine

[i-just-love-spop]

...and then I found you. [Part two]

Part one | Part three

“Good luck?” Adora mumbled.

Was that a thing you said in a situation like this?

She wasn’t sure.

“Yeah, and, uh... Don’t die?” Catra added, more as a joke than anything – then she gulped. She’d never thought about that much before, but... “Can you die during childbirth? Is that- is that a thing that can happen?”

Judging from the look Asa was giving them, that was apparently actually a thing.

The brunette felt her blood run cold.

Melog curled up at her feet and wailed.

“You can?!” Adora shrieked.

“IT’S NOT VERY LIKELY, AND NOBODY IS GOING TO DIE!” Bow yelled.

“Oh, you might be wrong about the nobody dying part,” Glimmer grumbled under her breath as her pain once again eased off a bit. “If these two keep it up, there might be a murder.”

—

Actually less a request than just the result of me and @darkmasterofcupcakes talking about Glimbow (and stubborn Glimmer that would insist on still working until literally the last minute of her pregnancy) for way too long that spiraled into a huge fic. This is the second out of three parts because this spiraled into another almost four thousand words and would have been way too long if I added what I have planned for the last part.

Companion fic to “One night, I wished upon a star...” which completes the title.

There’s a bit more Catradora in this chapter than there was in the last one, but this is still mainly a Glimbow-fic.

Fun fact about the healer’s name, Asa, by the way: it’s a gender neutral name that means “healer”/“physician” in Hebrew, so their name is also a pun, just not as obviously as everyone else’s.

Summary: Glimmer is very freaked out and having her baby.

Bow is extremely worried and trying to stay calm.

Adora and Catra are trying to help, but are actually just stressing their friends out even more.

Asa really, really wishes they’d picked a different career.

(There is also cursing in this part, unsurprisingly.)

—

“No, you don’t understand! Glimmer is having the baby!”

Adora was panicking. And she was also really, really bad at explaining the situation to the poor healer, who was shaking their head and just extremely confused at this point.  

“You said that already. And tell me again why you’re running around as She-Ra?”

There was no real need to panic that much, but telling Adora that wouldn’t have been of much use – she had an immense lack of medical knowledge when it came to most topics, and explaining things to her properly often took hours. Asa had learned that the hard way over the course of the last few years.

“I- uh-” Adora gulped and hid the sword behind her back. She was so nervous she didn’t even remember she had the ability transform back if she wanted to. ”I might have destroyed a wall on the way here, because the corridors led the other way and I needed to be fast, but it wasn’t a supporting one? I think?”

She was full-on rambling now, grinning sheepishly.

Asa just shook their head.

“Why did I even ask...” They looked at She-Ra again. Nothing the young woman had said so far had explained anything about the situation, and the healer was extremely confused now. “Tell me again why you came here instead of Bow and Glimmer if she’s having the baby?”

Asa still didn’t understand what was going on.

Adora gave up.

“You know what? Forget it. Just... grab the medical supplies.“

They listened, despite their confusion, and grabbed a first-aid set.

“...okay? Now what?”

She-Ra just grabbed Asa by the arm and dragged them along after her.

—

Bow was pretty sure he hadn’t been this freaked out since they’d traveled to space to save Glimmer from Horde Prime’s ship so many years ago.

He needed the others to be back, immediately – especially Adora because there was absolutely no way he could do this without a healer.

He would if he had to, but he really, really hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

Glimmer was in so much pain, and it was terrifying.

She was usually way too stubborn to admit that she was in pain at all – he vividly remembered that one time when they were younger that she’d broken her arm on a scouting mission and had insisted the entire way back that she was okay and it barely hurt despite the fact that she was unable to move it. ...and that was just one out of several similar examples.

He could, however, only remember about two occasions where he’d actually seen her scream or cry in pain that were even close to comparable to this – one of them had been a teleporting mishap when she was younger, and the other had been when she’d taken a blast to the chest to protect him, which he still felt guilty about so many years later. Both of these incidents had involved several broken bones and had required immediate surgery... and she’d almost died in the second one.

So that she was in this much pain right now was, well... terrifying, to say the least.

He’d read several books on the topic, and they all said that labor was painful, but ‘painful’ wasn’t exactly a great measuring unit for anything.

Was it supposed to be this bad? Was she supposed to be in so much pain? Or was something wrong with her or the baby?

Stars, he was having a really hard time thinking straight at the moment.

Especially since Glimmer was somewhere between screaming and crying the entire time.

“I’m dying. I’m dying! I DON’T WANT TO DIE ON A FUCKING TABLE!”

He stroked his thumb over the back of her hand.

“You’ll be okay, I promise. And you’re not going to die.”

He was trying to calm himself down as much as her. Stars, he’d not expected this to be so scary.

...and maybe it wouldn’t have been, hadn’t it happened in the meeting room instead of her own room or the healers’ chamber.

But that didn’t matter now. The situation was what it was, and they kind of had to work with that. ...no matter how much the thought of maybe having to deliver the baby himself made him panic.

“You just need to remember how to breathe, okay? Just like we practiced.”

Bow’s smile felt weak even to him.

Glimmer squeezed his hand a little too tight and let out another scream, but slowly, very slowly, she started breathing steadier.

That was something, at least.

What was taking the others so long?

‘I swear to the stars, they saved Etheria faster than this...’

—

The door flung open.

“Sorry, I wanted to be here sooner, but Melog was trying to be helpful, and, spoilers, they weren’t, so I spent several minutes collecting the pillows from the floor again. Twice,” Catra mumbled sheepishly as she entered, arms full of pillows.

Melog meowed in protest.

“I- listen, we can discuss this later, okay? Now is not the time.” She handed Bow the pillows and a sterile blue blanket that was still packaged. “Here you go.”

He let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you.”

This was a start, at least. The situation was still more than awful, and he really, really needed Adora to come back quickly... but it was a start.

He took the next few minutes to make his wife as comfortable as it was possible to be on a meeting room table.

Meanwhile, Catra got closer to the table and awkwardly forced herself to maybe try and have a normal conversation, despite the situation.

When she looked at Glimmer’s ashen face that was distorted with pain, the brunette’s heart dropped to her gut.

“Shit, you...” She gulped. “I thought you looked bad at the meeting, but... holy shit.”

The brunette was immensely startled by how awful her friend looked.

“Thanks Catra, THAT IS IMMENSELY HELPFUL RIGHT NOW!”

Glimmer knew she looked awful, considering how awful she felt, she didn’t really need anyone to tell her about it to remind her of it constantly.

Maybe Glimmer would feel bad for yelling at everyone around her so much later.

Right now, she didn’t.

In the slightest.

Catra flinched.

“Right. Sorry. You look great...?” She grinned sheepishly. “I really like what you, uh, did with your hair?”

She had no clue how to deal with the situation.

Glimmer just grimaced.

“...would you please just shut up?“

She groaned.

“Right. Sorry.” Catra rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m... not great with stuff like this.”

“You don’t say.”

This was probably the most deadpan way Glimmer had ever spoken.

“...should I give you guys some space? I’m going to give you space, I should check what’s keeping Adora so long. I’ll be right back.”

She waved awkwardly and backed out of the room.

Melog followed her immediately.

—

“Is this better?” Bow asked when he was finished setting the pillows.

“A little?” Glimmer sobbed, hugging one of the pillows to her chest. The one under her head did a lot to increase her comfort, and the blanket also helped a lot, but... “I just want my bed.”

“I know, sweetie. I know.“ He kissed her forehead. “Later. I promise.”

“But I want it now...”

Her husband sighed.

“Yeah, I know that, too. And I swear, if we could arrange that, I would do it in a heartbeat. But we kind of have to make do with what we have.” He squeezed her hand. “Tell me again why you scheduled a meeting one week before your due date in the first place?”

Maybe distracting her with talking to her would help a little. And even if it didn’t help much, he was still genuinely curious.

He’d already made a mental note to check with their friends and the guards more often when they had their next child – they’d both agreed they wanted more than one relatively early on –, because he was not going to be surprised by another ‘oh by the way, we have a meeting tomorrow at six in the morning’ one week before his wife’s due date ever again, especially not after this.

Glimmer groaned, but she responded anyway.

“Well, I didn’t think we’d spend a week discussing stuff, or that she’d be early...”

Bow raised an eyebrow.

“You know she might not even be early because the due date is just an estimate, right?”

“...huh?” Now that she thought about it... “Shit, Asa did say something like that in one of the earlier checkups and I completely forgot about it.” Glimmer groaned. “I’m such an idiot...”

Really, she had no one but herself to blame for the situation – but she was having a hard time dealing with the pain, and screaming at the world made it a little easier.

When the next contraction hit, she squalled in pain and squeezed his hand again, way too tight, and she knew if she kept this up she would probably end up breaking his fingers, but he just smiled through the firm squeeze and rubbed the back of her hand again.

“It will be okay. And you’re not an idiot. A bit forgetful? Maybe. Way too stubborn? Definitely. But I wouldn’t have you any other way. ...even if it results in our first baby being born in the meeting room.” He chuckled at the absurdity of the situation and squeezed her hand. “I love you Glim. Always have, always will. No matter what.”

“I could just about strangle someone right now because HOLY FUCK THIS HURTS SO MUCH-” She forced herself to take a deep breath and smiled weakly. “But I love you, too, sweetie.”

—

Maybe one minute passed, maybe five, but it felt like an eternity of anxious waiting until the door finally flung open again.

“So, uh, the good news is, I found Adora. And she brought Asa! And medical supplies!” Catra reported when she came in.

“Stars, thank you,” Glimmer sighed.

That was a huge relief.

“The bad news is, uh-“

She-Ra entered after her wife, waving awkwardly.

“Hiii.”

She hid the sword behind her back.

Bow and Glimmer stared at her for a moment.

“Why are you transformed?” Adora was about to reply when Bow lifted his hands. “You know what? I don’t even want to know. Please just keep the weapon away from my wife and the baby, thank you.”

“Yeah, of course. And good, I won’t tell you! Good! I was just...” She stopped mid-sentence. “Holy shit, Glimmer, you look-”

She broke off when her wife gently nudged her in the ribs and shook her head. Instead of finishing the sentence, Adora just gave an awkward thumbs up.

Glimmer groaned and glared at her friends.

“I hate you both.”

“No, she doesn’t,” Bow said, shaking his head.

“Does anyone else want to remind me how awful I look? Bow? Asa? Anyone?!”

Asa, who had entered just after Adora, facepalmed and shook their head as they walked up to the table.

“No, thanks, we’re good.” They looked at Glimmer. “So, judging from the pillows and her apparently extremely close contractions, we’re delivering the baby on the meeting room table, aren’t we?”

Everyone nodded.

Asa facepalmed again.

“...I’ve known you guys long enough. Honestly, what was I expecting.”

“...well this is going to be the fastest delivery I’ve ever helped with,” the healer murmured after they‘d checked Glimmer, choosing to put off asking why the couple had waited until the baby was crowning to call for medical staff.

Their best guess was probably Glimmer‘s stubbornness. That was how they explained most things that had happened since they’d first met Glimmer back when she was ten.

“I- uhm... we’ll be... waiting outside? I guess? Call us if you need anything?”

Adora backed away slightly.

She had no idea what she was supposed to do in this situation. They’d never really talked about who was supposed to be present during the birth of the baby – not that that was a topic they’d discussed a lot in general, and even if they had, the situation would have been way different if the place the baby was being born wasn’t a meeting room table –, and now she wasn’t sure if they were supposed to leave or to stay, but she also knew that listening to Glimmer scream was freaking her the fuck out, and she couldn’t take it anymore.

Judging from Catra’s facial expression, her wife felt the same way.

“We‘ll be right outside the door, so just call if you need us, okay?”

Catra added, and Melog meowed some sort of reassurance that no one except Catra understood.

“Good luck?” Adora mumbled.

Was that a thing you said in a situation like this?

She wasn’t sure.

“Yeah, and, uh... Don’t die?” Catra added, more as a joke than anything – then she gulped. She’d never thought about that much before, but... “Can you die during childbirth? Is that- is that a thing that can happen?”

Judging from the look Asa was giving them, that was apparently actually a thing.

The brunette felt her blood run cold.

Melog curled up at her feet and wailed.

“You can?!” Adora shrieked.

Her face went chalk-white. The thought made her so sick she felt like throwing up was very definitely a possibility right now, and her emotions were completely all over the place, so much that She-Ra disappeared and regular Adora was back – which, all things considered, was probably for the best.

“IT’S NOT VERY LIKELY, AND NOBODY IS GOING TO DIE!” Bow yelled.

That was not something he wanted to be thinking about right now, and despite knowing that it was extremely unlikely, the fact that Catra had just brought it up made him freak out all over again and the mental image would probably be haunting him for weeks, even if Glimmer was fine afterwards.

Which she would be.

She’d be fine.

Bow closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

‘I think I just forgot how to breathe for a moment.’

“Oh, you might be wrong about the nobody dying part,” Glimmer grumbled under her breath as the pain once again eased off a bit. “If these two keep it up, there might be a murder.”

Asa decided now was probably the time to interfere.

“Glimmer is going to be okay. I know the pain she’s going through right now seems scary, but it’s nothing out of the ordinary given the situation. You two can stay in here if you want, or you can wait outside, but please just decide now, and whatever you do, don’t stress her out even more by talking about the possibility her dying in front of her. She will not die, and this is not exactly helpful right now.”

“Yeah, I- Right. We‘ll be- outside or something,” Catra mumbled, just as shaken up by the information that apparently, there was a possibility – however small it might be – that Glimmer could die, as her trembling wife was.

She put an arm around Adora and rubbed her back when they left the room, both knowing that they wouldn’t go very far because if something went wrong while they were away, they’d never forgive themselves.

—

“Can I have some pain meds? Can I please have some pain meds?” Glimmer begged as soon as they’d left the room.

She hadn’t really dared to ask while her friends had still been in here, considering how terrified they’d already been, but she couldn’t take the pain a second longer.

Asa looked at her deadpan.

“My apologies, your Majesty.” That already wasn’t a very good sign. The healer usually just called her Glimmer because they’d known each other since Glimmer was little, and when it came to formal titles, they were usually only brought up when Asa was either annoyed or about to tell the then-princess and now-Queen something that she didn’t want to hear, or both. “I could have done that if you came into the healers’ chamber, like, two hours ago. By the time they would start working, you’ll be long done with the delivery.”

Glimmer felt sick. She was terrified. There was absolutely no way she could do this without medication.

“No, that’s fine. Just give me some pain meds. The baby can stay in there a little longer until the meds kick in!”

It wasn’t a rational or realistic idea, and somewhere deep inside her head, she knew that, but she was so freaked out that she would have done pretty much anything for at least a gleam of hope that she wouldn’t have to do it like this.

She was also in massive denial, plain and simple.

"Keep telling yourself that, because that's really not something you get to decide...“

Realistically speaking, the Queen had up to a couple of minutes at max, probably less, until her body would do the job for her, no matter how much she tried to resist. No matter how stubborn the Queen was, she couldn’t go against her body’s natural instincts. That wasn’t how that worked.

Asa shook their head. They really, really should have chosen a different career.

Glimmer just sobbed.

"Please... You have to give me something, because it literally feels like I'm being torn in half right now..."

“Isn’t there anything you can do?” Bow asked, squeezing Glimmer’s hand again.

He couldn’t stand seeing his wife in so much pain.

Asa shook their head.

“I’m sorry, but I really don’t have anything that would take effect before the baby is born, so that would be kind of useless... that won’t change, no matter how often or how nicely you ask.”

Bow was actually a reasonable, sensible guy most of the time – he was probably the only one out of this group of four friends that was; at least when it came to injuries.

Asa liked him a lot.

That didn’t change the fact that there wasn’t anything they could do about the situation.

Glimmer just sobbed. Her husband rubbed her hair.

“I’m such an idiot. I should have realized something was off with the whole practice contractions-situation...”

Bow felt awful.

“Yeah, or maybe I should have just told you what was going on when I figured it out, but what difference does that make now?!“

The love of her life feeling guilty about something out of his control just made her feel worse, not better.

She just wanted this to be over...

“It will be over soon, Glimmer, I promise,” Asa said and smiled at her encouragingly. “Just stay awake, breathe and push when I tell you to, okay? Your body will do most of this on its own, anyway. You’ll get through this.”

The Queen got on their last nerve sometimes, but Asa had known her for a long time, and at the end of the day, Glimmer was a good person that they liked a lot, even if she drove them crazy most of the time.

“You can do this,” Bow said, squeezing her hand again.

Glimmer took a deep breath and closed her eyes, still immensely terrified, but also determined now.

“Okay... Okay. I can do this. I can do this.”

—

“Do you think we should go check on them again?”

Catra and Adora were sitting against the door just outside the room, leaning against each other.

The blonde was anxious.

Glimmer being in pain freaked her out, the whole possibility of death during childbirth freaked her out even more and that she was unable to actively help made things so much worse.

Catra was hugging Adora with one arm and petting the equally terrified Melog with the other arm to calm them down a bit.

Neither of them wanted to be far away from Glimmer and Bow, especially in case something went wrong, and they needed She-Ra’s healing powers, or more pillows, or-

The fact that Catra was just about the same level of scared and anxious and restless as her wife and Melog definitely didn’t help the situation, either.

The brunette nodded as her body tensed up again.

“I mean, maybe they need something!”

They had to check on them to make sure Glimmer was still alive. Immediately.

“Right?!”

Both of them got up simultaneously, Melog jumping up and exchanging some worried words with Catra as their emotion indicator fur turned red again, and all three of them all but broke down the door together when they entered the room.

—

Asa groaned when the door flung open.

‘Not this again...’

This was the third time that Catra and Adora had walked in during the past five minutes, and each time they’d only taken a quick look at their friends to then immediately walk out again.

"Listen, you two, I really do need to concentrate right now, and so does Glimmer, and this distraction of you constantly entering the room to then leave it again is not helping, so either you take a seat and stay or you remain outside from now on."

They were really getting on Asa’s last nerve.

This was the second time today that the healer really, really wished they’d picked a different career.

"But-" Catra started.

She didn’t even get close to finishing the sentence, however, because this was finally the last straw for Glimmer, who had, all things considered, taken a surprisingly long time to blow up at her best friends.

“YOU TWO ARE STRESSING ME OUT MORE THAN THE ACTUAL CHILDBIRTH!” That was not really true because the whole situation felt much more stressful than everything Glimmer had ever experienced and everything hurt way too fucking much, but Adora and Catra were making things way, way worse. She’d had it with these two for today. “SHUT UP AND SIT YOUR ASSES DOWN IMMEDIATELY OR GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE AND STAY OUTSIDE!”

That did it.

The two of them jumped a mile in fright at the time of her voice, then sat down on the floor immediately.

The Queen smiled through her pain in a really weird, but immensely satisfied way.

“Thank you.”

The two women were instantly reminded why they’d continuously left in the first place despite wanting to constantly check on Glimmer when the latter let out another anguished cry.

Catra and Adora just pulled each other close, burying their heads in each other’s shoulders. This was scary.

This was really, really terrifying.

They winced at each of Glimmer’s screams, neither of them daring to look.

Melog was curled up against Catra’s back, whimpering.

It felt like an eternity passed in what was in reality just a couple of – albeit terrifying – minutes.

—

“Just a couple more pushes, okay? You can do it.”

Asa gave the Queen another encouraging smile.

Glimmer groaned, then screamed and clenched her fists. Just a little more. Just a little more and this will all be over.

Bow stroked her hair gently. He had no idea how much pain she was exactly in right now, and he really, really wished it wasn’t this painful for her... but he was also so, so incredibly proud of her.

“It’s almost over, okay? You’re doing great.”

She smiled at him weakly, took a deep breath, let out another scream and closed her eyes to gather every bit of strength left in her body.

—

The next couple of minutes passed in a blur.

And then finally, finally, finally the pain let of and a loud cry filled the room. Soon afterwards, the pain was gone almost entirely.

Glimmer let out a sharp breath.

“Well that was a lot more exhausting than I thought it would be,” she mumbled weakly, sinking back into her heavenly soft pillows.

Then the world went black.

#glimbow #glimmer #bow #catradora #catra #adora #spop #glimbow-centric #glimmer x bow #...and then i found you #spop fics #melog #my works #my writing #future fic #glimmer is completely done with everyone at this point #best friend squad shenanigans #featuring Asa the very done nonbinary healer #reblogging is appreciated #but please don’t repost

[animeniacss]

Coffee On a Tuesday - Namjoon x Reader [One-Shot]

Synopsis: Never judge a book by its cover, unless you’re using that cover to flirt with the cute boy a few tables over.

*this is a gift for my friend @saesbyeols​ / @byeolbitch​ who is a Joonie lover. <3 Please go support her she’s a wonderful fic writer

Genre: Romance, College AU, Slight Vmin being goofy, Quirky and Awkward Flirting

Length: approx. 7.2k words

Coffee on a Tuesday - Namjoon x Reader [ONE-SHOT]

           College means a lot of different things for different people: working hard towards your goals, creating memories with different people all different places as you honed your skills together, staying up until 3 a.m. partying while your 10-page paper sat idly on your dorm room desk with nothing more than your name on it, scarfing ramen down for breakfast, lunch, and dinner almost 5 days out of the week. Regardless of the experience, college was a place where anything and everything could happen. Despite the endless different paths that interwove among each other throughout the campus, you found yourself following the same one every day: the path leading directly to your dream job. To do that, however, you had to follow the path that led to the library. Your career required a lot of studying, a lot of time dedicated to your academics. Parties were few and far between for you, because even if you did go, you would find yourself mingling with the mathematical equations in your head rather than other partygoers. Today was another day that you found yourself strolling down the bustling paths, past groups of friends chatting about homework and weekend plans. The break-in your classes allowed you the perfect opportunity to utilize the library during a time where afternoon classes were in full swing, it was glorious. The campus library acted as both a place for college goers and the public, however, during stressful moments in school such as finals, or summer classes, the building would mostly be inhabited by stressful college students who needed a quiet place to get their work done. It didn’t bother you who was in the library, or when you were there. You just loved to be there.

           Stepping into the library almost immediately eliminated the polluted chaos of outdoor conversation, and soft conversations scattered through the building took their place. Librarians chatted with one another behind their long desk, students passed by with their noses in books as they looked around for a place to study. Just by standing in the front entrance of the building, you turned immediately in the direction you wanted. This library was a convoluted maze to the untrained freshman eye, any amateur could find themselves lost in rows and rows of romance novels for hours while they try to locate the science fiction. This was not an issue for you, as you had memorized the library map long before even memorizing your school schedule. The library was your safe space, no doubt about that. Fixing your bag that rested on your shoulder, you made your way towards the collection of tables that were set in an open area for students to together and sit while they studied the day away. This area tended to be the most crowded, and you could see people lined up against the walls as they used their laptops, while other students sat in small groups and studied or worked on group projects together, whispering to each other as to not disturb their neighbors. You quickly found a home at a small, two-chair table, using the other unavailable seat as a backpack holder. You nestled yourself cozily into your high-raised seat and pulled out all of your books from your morning classes, flipping to the homework pages and quickly getting to work as you tuned out the commotion happening around you.

           Homework problems were being solved at a blazing pace, flipping from one page to the next, and scribbling down all that you could. The answers were easy to find if you just looked hard enough in the text. You could never understand the students who claimed they couldn’t find the problems – that normally meant that they didn’t try hard enough. But that wasn’t the case for you. Before you knew it, the assignments for one of your classes were completed. A smug grin popped on your face as you shut your textbook and notebook, stuffing them back in your pockets.

           “What should I do now?” you mumbled to yourself, resting your chin in the palm of your hand as you scanned the area. As you did so, an unfamiliar sight caught your attention. A tall man in light blue jeans and a black and white striped shirt strolled into the area full of tables. He fixed his glasses, which shielded two beautiful dragon-shaped eyes behind their thick frames. The man strolled in here as if he had built the place himself, knowing every nook, cranny, and corner of the building, though this was the first time you had ever seen him at this hour. Your head remained still, but your eyes were on him like a hawk watching its unsuspecting – and frankly very attractive – prey, trailing him as he walked towards an open table only a few feet away and plopped himself down. You were sitting perpendicular to him, so you would have to turn your head if you wanted a good look at him. Quickly, you shuffled your seat to the other side of the table, giving yourself a much better view. The man opened up his bag and pulled out a book, not a textbook, or a notebook, just a book. The distance prevented you from reading the title, but it seemed like one he had already begun reading, as he flipped the book to the middle, bending the spine almost perfectly in half, fixing his glasses, and seemingly beginning to read.

           Wonder what he’s reading. You thought to yourself. Glancing over at your bag, you took one more scan around the vicinity. Everyone in the area seemed to be busy, so you had no problem leaving your bookbag to guard your spot while you got up. Maybe I can start up a conversation. Swinging your legs forward, you hopped out of the seat and slowly began making your way towards the silent man, whose stunning almond-shaped eyes were still glued to the pages in front of him. You had to admit, the intensity to which he was reading was really hot. As you walked closer, however, you began to get a bit nervous. Would he be annoyed that you interrupted him? You had no idea what you would ever say to successfully have a conversation with him. You could see him getting closer and closer to you with every step you took, each one making your heart race just a beat faster. He got closer and closer and closer…

           ….and you walked right past him.

           Letting out a deep exhale, you quickened your pace into one of the many rows of books. You craned your head just slightly to see if he turned towards the figure that had just passed him, but it seemed like he did not. When the opportunity presented itself, you found yourself hiding in the self-help section of books, which, unsurprisingly, was vast in its options for any and all helpless college students. You watched from afar as the boy idly flipped his papers and continues to read as if there was nobody else in the world except for him and this book.

           I don’t know what to say to get his attention. You thought to yourself, lips pursed together in aggravated frustration. Just as you continued to rack your brain, finally, the boy’s head lifted up from its craned position down at the book. Even though he was not looking in your direction, you instinctively found yourself hiding deeper within the wall of shelves. As you did, your eyes scanned the spines of multiple different self-help books. How to Cook Without Burning the House Down: A Guide to Prevent Fires, How to Do Laundry and Smell Nicer, How to Manage Your Time…. Titles like these continued throughout the rows. You had to admit, a few of them gave you a chuckle, just at the idea that some students really do need to know these things when they leave home for the first time. As you were scanning, your eyes fell upon one in particular.

           How to Say Hello: A Guide for People With Social Anxiety.

           “Maybe this?” you mumbled to yourself, pulling out the book from its spot on the shelf. Holding it in your hands, you saw the title was big, bold, taking up most of the cover, while the subtitle was not as noticeable. You quickly skimmed through the thin book, wondering if the contents inside were helpful. You were sociable, sure, but for some reason, the second you laid eyes on this man, it was as if you lost all ability to function like you did moments ago. As you thumbed through the pages, the sound of a chair pushing back was heard, and you looked up. From where you stood, you could see the boy get up from his chair and set his book in his bag. Was he leaving? He turned to a young girl at the table beside him, tapping on his shoulder. When the woman looked over, the boy smiled.

           “Would you just watch my stuff while I run to the bathroom?”

           “Sure…” the girl said softly, her voice trembling slightly. A smile formed on his face.

           “Thank you.” He nodded, before beginning his trip to the bathroom. Now you were your chance. Glancing back down at your book, you walked over towards your seat once again. The boy's table was slowly approaching your vision, and you scanned his backpack, sitting idly in the seat next to his. Your eyes took a moment to dart towards the girl, who had turned back around to type away on her laptop. When the coast was clear, you set the book gently on the table where the boy sat and returned to your seat. As you got comfortable again, you pulled out a textbook and opened it to a random page. You didn’t know which one, your eyes were focused on the seat in front of you. It was time to play the waiting game.

It felt like forever, but you finally saw the boy stroll back to his seat, tapping the girl gently on the shoulder and offering his sincerest thanks with a radiant smile on his face. He took his seat and you found yourself a lot more nervous than you thought you would be. The boy looked down and his eyes fell onto the book on his table. An eyebrow arched in curiosity; he lifted the book in his hand.

“...What the-?” He mouthed to himself, looking around the immediate vicinity. You saw how confused he looked, and it made you giggle. As a pair of stunning eyes fell onto you, your giggling immediately stopped. An eyebrow arched in confusion, and you quickly hid your head behind your algebra textbook. Despite getting exactly what you wanted, the idea of him looking at you made you very nervous. You heard a ‘huh’ from his direction and poked your head back up to see him just as he set the book aside, scooping up his own book. Before he dove back into reading, his eyes raised up to meet you again. This time, you offered a shy wave. He chuckled; eyes turned up behind his dark-rimmed glasses. A hand raised up, and he returned your wave, before finally looking back down at his book.

The man seemed distracted now, his focus placed entirely on the world written before his eyes. It was perfect timing too, as your afternoon classes were coming up, and you needed to head over there. You collected your stuff into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder as you hopped off of the chair. With one more glance at the handsome man at the other table, you waited to see if he would lookup. When he did not, you simply headed down the hall and out the library doors.

As you strolled down the campus walkway, you kept thinking about your actions in the library. Was that guy amused? Was he creeped out? He was probably creeped out. It’s not everyday people communicate through books as if they were letters sent by pigeon mail.

“....I need to call Jimin.” You mumbled to yourself, your hand slipping into your jacket pocket. As it sunk deeper and deeper, eventually hitting the bottom of your pocket, your eyes widened. “What the-?” Immediately, you stopped in your tracks, shaking your hand in your pocket rapidly, your heart beating faster with every second that passed and you did not have your phone in your pocket. “Okay, uhm…” you pursed your lips together and try to think. “...FUCK, it’s probably in the library.” Without missing a beat, you spun on your heels and hurried back to the library as quick as your feet would carry you.

When you arrived back at the library, you quickly caught your breath at the door, calming yourself as you headed towards the table you sat at. The area was slightly less packed compared to when you left, but you still saw the boy, sitting in the same chair and reading the same book behind the same rimmed glasses. He flipped the pages of his book silently, and you hurried to your table. Your phone, thank God, was still on the table, undisturbed by anyone else. As you scooped it up, you noticed a book was resting right beside it. You lifted it up, reading the title. 

The Girl With the Pretty Smile. The pastel colors decorating the book signaled that this was most definitely a romance book for younger readers, a freshman in college, or even the occasional non-campus attendee who wandered into the library with friends. It was childishly amusing, in a nostalgic kind of way. You looked up, scanning the area to see if you could determine how this book ended up here. You assumed someone had taken this seat after you left. However, much to your surprise, your eyes landed on the boy, whose eyes were finally raised from his book and in your direction. A slight blush tinted your cheeks when he offered you an amused smile. Though his eyes were soft, for some reason, you felt a burning in your cheeks. You couldn’t help it, there was something about the way he carried himself, the way he smiled and the way he sat, you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him. You had to glance back down at the book and study it for a moment, before looking back at the boy. Yet again, his attention was on his book. Your face went absolutely red, and you had to set the book down, hurrying out of the library before he dared look back up at you like that again.

—————

“I don’t know why I was dragged along to this.” 

“Because, Jimin, I want you to see for yourself. He’s really cute.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jimin huffed. Ever since that afternoon in the library, you had seen that mysterious boy show up at the library more and more. He would sit in the same spot, putting you at a perfect view from behind your textbooks. While he was sitting in his spot, reading whatever book he had chosen as his written entertainment today, you would peruse the isles of books nearby, looking for ones with interesting or funny titles you could use to interact with him. At first, he didn’t seem to understand what you were trying to do. You waited for your moment to strike each time, and not knowing how long it would take, or if it would even happen, would leave you anxious, yet slightly excited at the same time. He would come back from wherever he would go, sit back down, and stare at the new book found right beside his current one. You would continue to eye him from behind your biology textbooks, frequently finding your eyes darting back down into the pages when his eyes would lift in your direction. Jimin watched you look around one of the isles, your eyes scanning the walls of various books. “Why don’t you just, oh I don’t know, talk to him?”

“Every time I walk past him to the books, I try, but I chicken out and walk right past him.”

“Why?”

“He’s just too handsome. I get intimidated.” You pouted as you heard Jimin snicker in amusement behind you.

“Has he ever responded?”

“He did the first time, but that’s all. Now he just kind of chuckles and goes on reading.”

“He probably wants you to talk to him in person,” Jimin said.

“Oooooh, what do you know? You don’t even know who he is. Just help me find a good book title.”

“I will not help you in your little hermit flirting game.” Jimin teased, pulling at the spine of a book at the end of the aisle. “I’ll be looking around. Go have fun.” You watched as Jimin made his way to a different aisle, leaving you alone to peruse. You embraced the new silence that surrounded you. It felt like forever that you were looking, but then, you heard a voice approaching the desks. Immediately, you turned your head, and two male figures entered the room. The male was entering, talking quietly to yet another incredibly handsome man with a white alpaca tee shirt and jeans. You made sure to keep yourself out of view as you scurried to the next aisle, watching as Jimin flipped through the pages of what seemed to be a romance novel.

“Jimin.” You gasped, making him lookup. “I see him. He just walked in.” Without letting your friend say anything, you took him by the wrist, leading him back towards the end of the aisle. “There.” You pointed. “The one with the glasses.” There was a moment of silence, and you looked over at Jimin, trying to gauge his reaction. Jimin sighed, looking at you. “Well?”

“Kim Namjoon?” He asked. You raised an eyebrow. “That’s Kim Namjoon, literally one of the smartest kids on campus.” You blinked, eyes falling back towards Namjoon, who was sitting across from his friend, both of them skimming through textbooks.

“Really?”

“Yeah, and the other guy is Kim Seokjin. His boyfriend.” Jimin’s eyes fell on you, watching as they went extraordinarily wide in surprise. He had to cover his mouth so he wouldn’t laugh. “I’m kidding, they’re like best friends. They’re older than us by a few years, but they both do tutoring sessions for the younger students.”

“I had no idea.”

“Maybe because you don’t need tutoring. But Taehyung and I see them at our science tutoring every week.” Jimin explained. “He’s really nice. I’m sure if you go over to him and talk, he’ll be more than interested in starting a conversation.”

“No way, not with his friend there.” You huffed. Jimin rolled his eyes, chuckling. “What book did you find?” you asked, yanking the text from his hands before he could even reply. Staring at the cover, you blinked. The covers held a myriad of beautiful blue tones, resembling that of the deep ocean. Across the top of the cover were the words Pretty Boy written in a white, wispy font. Your eyes immediately shot back up to Namjoon, who was scribbling his studies away. “I have to wait for my chance to strike.”

“What is he, prey?” Jimin asked. “Whatever, I’m going back to the table.” You watched Jimin put his hands in his pockets and head back towards your spot. As he approached Namjoon as Seokjin, he turned to them. “Hi, Hyungs.” He said softly. The boys looked up.

“Hey Jimin~.” Namjoon grinned. “How are you?”

“Fine. Studying~.” You watched the trio have a conversation for a few moments before Jimin nodded his head and continued heading towards your table. Before he did, however, he was sure to turn to you and grin, his eyebrows raised as if to say ‘See how easy it is?’ You couldn’t help but pout at your cocky friend as he walked back to the table.

Good for you being a social butterfly, Jimin. You thought to yourself. You continued waiting for your chance to head over, watching them. As you did, you watched Namjoon’s eyes raise up, staring directly in the area you were standing in. The minute his eyes fixated on your, you felt your cheeks go absolutely red hot, and you turned away, covering your face with the book. It was quiet in the library, so the chuckle that Namjoon emitted seemed a lot louder in your ears than it most likely was to anyone else. After a moment of collecting yourself, you heard the sound of the chair being pushed back against the floor. When you looked over your shoulder, Namjoon and Seokjin were standing up. Namjoon motioned his head towards a nearby isle of books, heading over his hands in his pockets as Seokjin followed suit, grinning in amusement. You could’ve sworn his eyes darted in your direction, but you were too nervous to be sure it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you. As your eyes fell back towards the book, the title staring you right in the face, you knew this was your chance. Peeking around the corner, you could see faint glimpses of the boys a few isles down, scanning some books. Jimin was flipping through pages of his biology textbooks. So, you began walking back to your seat, biting your lip. As you passed Namjoon’s seat, you quickly set the book down on top of his opened algebra book, before picking up your pace and practically throwing yourself in your seat. As you settled, you looked up at Jimin, an amused grinning staring back at you. “What?”

“You’re funny.” He said. “You could’ve just talked to him.” Before you could respond, you heard footsteps heading back over. Glancing over, you saw Namjoon and Seokjin walking back to their seats, books in their hands. Though your neck was craned down to your book, your eyes were directed at Namjoon. As he pulled his seat back, a smile graced his lips. He lifted up the book in his hands and he looked over the cover, even showing it to Seokjin. Namjoon looked over to you, and you blushed. He lifted the book up slightly, making sure you knew he had it, and that he enjoyed it, before sitting back down, his back to you as he and Seokjin returned to their studying. “So looks like Pretty Boy over there might actually find it cute.”

“You didn’t think he would?” you asked.

“I would’ve found it creepy, honestly,” Jimin admitted. You huffed. “Whatever, just study.”

A little bit of time passed, all parties in the library focused on their studies before afternoon classes. Every so often, you would look at Namjoon, who was flipping from one book to another, studying as much as he could before it was time to go. You have finished up your biology studies and closed your book. Based on the time flashing on the lock screen on your phone, you had time to kill before you and Jimin needed to pack up and meet Taehyung for afternoon classes. Jimin looked like he was still taking some intense notes, so you decided you would go look for some more books. Maybe you would get some ideas for next time, or, maybe even find something to read in your free time.  You walked in the opposite direction of the boys, into an aisle dedicated to sci-fi stories. You didn’t think you could find a book for Namjoon in here, but you weren’t really planning to at this point. Surprisingly enough, you forgot that these books you were passing to Namjoon was meant to be read for more than just their titles.

You looked around for what seemed like a little while, but unfortunately, found nothing that really sparked your interest. It was good to stretch your legs after all of your studying, so you wouldn’t immediately write these few minutes as a total loss. However, you knew it was time you would probably head back to your seat, afternoon classes crept up on you with every minute that passed by. As you headed towards your seat again, you still saw Jimin sitting in his seat, writing notes just as he was doing when you left a few minutes prior. However, as you approached the table, you immediately noticed something sitting on your textbooks that were not there when you had left. As you took your seat, you saw The Case of the Silent Beauty written on a book cover. It was a black book, with the face of a woman on it. The woman’s face was only shown from her nose to her chin, a piece of duct tape put over the face. On the tape, was the words Silent Beauty from the title, written in an eloquent red. You lifted the book up, examining the mysterious cover for a moment, before glancing at Jimin. He looked up at you.

“Don’t look at me.” He said, motioning to the table only a few feet away. You looked over and saw Namjoon’s back. He was still writing stuff down. However, the sound of Jimin’s voice must have alerted him, because he looked up and over his shoulder. He saw the book held in your hands, and he grinned. Jimin watched your ears turn an extra two shades of pink. You looked down at the book, flipping open to the first page. Namjoon chuckled, before turning back to his studies and leaving you to read.

Yeah, books are meant to be for reading.

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

Finals week, the most stressful time of any college student’s career. It was a time where all of a student’s professors decide to throw a handful of projects, chapter readings, assignments, and hell, even an unnecessary paper or two into the mix of constant due dates that came with preparing for the already stressful final exams. This was a time of the year where the library was filled to the brim with anxious students, constantly flipping through the pages of their textbooks as they tried to make sure they take in every piece of information they possibly can before they sit down for the final day. You were doing the exact same thing, sitting around a circular table with Taehyung and Jimin as the three of you doing whatever necessary to make sure everything was done and was done well before it was submitted. You had to admit, normally this was a time where you would stress, your time management skills skyrocketing to insanely amazing levels. Taehyung and Jimin were sitting next to one another, looking over notes and study guides they had prepared long before finals week began for a class that they shared together, while you were skimming over a mock test that Jimin had made for your upcoming human anatomy final. It was a simple quiz, involving labeling different parts of the human body. The systems, the bones, the functions, anything Jimin could collect from your months of classes were put into a mock test scribbled down on notebook paper. You were finishing the test up, doing your best not to use your notes for help, as they would be of no use to you the day of when you caught a vision. Namjoon was passing by, a stack of books in his hands as he searched the area for an available seat. Your eyes wandered over to him for a brief moment, and you smiled. Namjoon – or Pretty Boy as Jimin now referred to him as - and you had been playfully communicating through fun book titles a total of 6 days over a month and a half. There were times he wasn’t there when you were, and vice versa, so you took the time to search for titles and keep a note of them for future encounters. Each time you exchanged books, Namjoon would simply smile and turn his head back to his work, most likely because you were far too nervous to talk to him, and that nervousness was etched on your face as clearly as the answer to your mock quiz were in your textbook. However, knowing that he was here now made you happy, at peace in some sort of weird way. Despite this, however, you were unsure if you would be able to find the time to casually peruse for a book. Not only that but would Namjoon even leave his seat today? He wasn’t the smartest kid on campus for nothing, of course, he had to study constantly. Taehyung must have noticed your eyes wander because he tossed an eraser at your head.

“Ow.” You pouted.

“Focus. You don’t have time to be your shy little nerd self.” He said simply. You pouted, looking back down at your test questions. “Are you done?”

“Almost.” You mumbled. Setting the paper down, you continued to label and draw and circle the correct answers left on the back of the page. “Alright, I’m finished.” You passed the test over to Jimin, who looked up.

“Okay. I’ll grade it in a second.” He said.

“What else should I study?” You asked. “I’m only really worried about the anatomy final.”

“Then just study anatomy.” Taehyung said, not even looking up from his notes now, his pencil scribbling along with the paper. You nodded, looking down at your book as your friends continued to work beside you. You flipped through some pages, wrote down some terms, but soon enough, found yourself growing bored. Well, maybe bored wasn’t the word. More like…distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about Namjoon, only a few tables away and studying just as hard as you should have been. But you couldn’t. Damn him and his good looks, and intellectual appeal, it was throwing your intellect out of whack.

“I’m going to walk and read.” You said, lifting up your anatomy book. The boys lifted their heads as they watched you flip the book open to the bookmarked page. Chapter 13, the Reproductive System, and read as you headed towards the shelves of books. As you disappeared behind one of the isles, the boys turned to each other.

“She’s not going to study, is she?” Jimin asked.

“I doubt it,” Taehyung said. They simply shrugged, leaving you to your own devices as Jimin lifted up your anatomy quiz and began to grade it. You were walking around the isles, occasionally glancing between your book and the ones tempting you on the shelves. You were trying to stay focused, reading instead of book title hunting, however, you wanted to pass one off to Namjoon today. It had been about two weeks since you had seen him, most likely due to the increase in work both of you had due, and that time apart made you feel a bit lonely. Well, as lonely as you could feel towards someone you’ve had not a single word to, but still! As you reached the end of the book isle, you finally closed the anatomy book, marking your spot with your cute little bookmark that you had gotten at a school fair.

“I give up.” You said. As you turned your head, a sea of books took over your eyes. You set your anatomy book under your arm and began to look through the options. You looked around, eyeing the spines of books in hopes that a fun and interesting title would catch your eye. When finals were over and summer break began, you were unsure when you would be able to see Namjoon again before the new term started. Things would be different next semester, and you wanted to be sure that this book would be the best one yet because it made be the last. As you kept looking, Jimin’s voice entered the back of your mind.

Why don’t you just talk to him?

“He’s right. I should probably finally say something.” You hummed to yourself. “I’m being childish…” you hugged your anatomy book to your chest as you continued to look around. You knew you weren’t to social, at least not as social as Jimin or Taehyung, but you knew how to talk to people! So, what was so weird about talking to Namjoon? His looks? Well yeah, he’s really good looking. But as you saw through Jimin, Namjoon seemed incredibly approachable and kind, not hesitating at all to have a conversation with Jimin. There was a part of you that knew extremely well that you were being irrational in regards to speaking to Namjoon, but you couldn’t help it! You huffed, pulling out a few books from the shelves and looking them over. “This is unique…it’s cute. I don’t know anyone else who has flirted with a guy like this, it’s my thing, he must like it because he keeps giving me books back.” You looked over books and smiled a bit as you scanned them over. Finally, you found a book that you felt fit extremely well. It was a cute little short story called Coffee on a Tuesday, the cover a collection of soft yellows and oranges reminiscent of a sunrise. A table stood in view of the rising sun with a freshly brewed cup of coffee resting on it, allowing not only the characters inside, but the reader, to start the day off feeling refreshed and energized as if they had just drunk a cup of coffee. This was perfect, it would finally move you from short, choppy sentences that made little to no sense, to actually asking him out on a date. “Take that, Jimin.” You huffed to yourself, tucking the book away with your anatomy book as you headed back to the table to wait for your chance. As you headed back, you glanced towards Namjoon’s table. He wasn’t there. Your eyes quickly scanned the room, and you saw Namjoon making his way into one of the nearby isles, hands in his pockets as he looked around quietly. Now would most likely be your only chance! You walked past Namjoon’s table, your eyes constantly darting in his direction to make sure he didn’t look over, and you grabbed the book in your hands. Quickly, you set the book down on top of his textbooks before speed walking back to your table. When you arrived, you sighed in relief, watching Taehyung and Jimin give you a confused look. “I did it. I found a book with a good title. It’s almost like I asked him on a date.”

“Told you she didn’t read her book,” Taehyung said to Jimin, who nodded in agreement. Jimin glanced down at the book in your hands, and his eyebrow cocked in confusion.

“Hey…what do you have there?” he asked. Before you could respond, Jimin leaned forward and yanked the book from your hands. As he did, your eyes fell onto a sunset with a cup of coffee on a table. “…Coffee on a Tuesday, hm?” Jimin hummed, glancing up at you. “This is what you were studying?” You quickly yanked the book back and scanned it, your eyes widened.

“Then where’s my textbook?” you asked. Almost immediately, your head swiveled around to the anatomy textbook, sitting right where you accidentally slammed it above Namjoon’s textbooks. “Oh God, fuck.” You groaned, hearing your friends stifle their laughter at the mix-up. “I need to get it before-.” Just as you were about to get up, you saw Namjoon heading back to his table, a few books in his hands as he headed over. “…Too late. Guess it’s time to die.” You groaned, running a hand across your face. You didn’t want to look, but you couldn’t pull your eyes away. How would he react to a Human Anatomy book with a big noticeable bookmark leading to the human reproductive system react?

Namjoon immediately noticed the book, his head tilting his slight confusion. He lifted it up, flipping open to the page with the bookmark inside. That was exactly what you were dreading. As his eyes fell on the page in question, his eyes widened, and he had to stifle a laugh. You groaned, wanting to crawl into a hole and die when you saw him look in your direction. You immediately turned away, staring at your friends who were still flashing goofy grins.

“It’s not funny.”

“Yes, it is.” They said together. Just before you could get up and flee the country, you heard footsteps approach your table.

“…Are you trying to tell me something with this one?” A deep voice hummed playfully behind you. When you turned, Namjoon was standing with the page flipped open, pointing to the figures that depicted the male and female reproductive systems and their parts. Pretty Boy was here, in the flesh.

“N-no, it was an accident…” You choked out. “That’s my anatomy textbook.” Namjoon smiled, before simply passing it over to you. You took it and held it close to your chest. Not yet had you looked Namjoon in the eyes. You couldn’t.

“I figured. But it was funny.” He quickly pulled a chair up to the table and sat down, saying his hellos to Taehyung and Jimin. “I thought you suddenly got bold.”

“I never talk to you, what would make you think that?” you mumbled shyly. Namjoon shrugged.

“Nothing, in particular, I guess.” He said. “What was the book you wanted to give me?” He motioned to the one poking out from your tightly knitted arms. “Is that one it?”

“No.” You said quickly. “Please forget it.” Namjoon glanced at the boys, who shrugged.

“Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?” He asked.

“It’s not… It’s not that…” you said softly. Namjoon nodded.

“Right. I look forward to seeing what you actually wanted to say when you’re ready. Sorry for bothering you guys.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jimin said as Namjoon stood up. “You delayed the lecture she’s about to get for almost failing her mock quiz.” He passed you back the exam, a big red 60 written on top. “She seems to have been distracted before.”

“Anatomy is my worst subject.”

“Sure it is…” Taehyung nodded.

“If you need help, I do a lot of tutoring in different subjects.” Namjoon offered. “Consider it a…trade, for the mix-up?” You finally glanced up at him and saw that he was offering you a wide smile. “It’ll help me study for my tests, so we all win.”

“I-.”

“She would love to,” Taehyung said quickly. You glanced over at him with wide eyes, Taehyung simply slipping your textbooks into your bag and passing it to you. “We’re studying other classes anyway, so go. Be free.” He grinned his little boxy smile, and you never realized you could hate it until right now. You have no idea what possessed you to do it, but you grabbed your bag and stood up, following Namjoon to his table. At least, you think you were. You were moving, but your heart was beating so loud in your ears you couldn’t hear your footsteps. As you sank down in the seat beside Namjoon, he took the textbook back as well as the mock exam.

“Let’s see.” He smiled over at you, before fixing his glasses and skimming over the contents of the test. You watched him silently for a moment, taking the opportunity to examine Namjoon up close. He was much more handsome from this distance than he ever could be from afar, his skin was smooth and his hair was laid in such a pretty way. You sighed softly as you watched him. “It looks like you know a lot of stuff, you just seem to be confused about some of the names of different things.” Namjoon flipped to the necessary pages in the book. “Let’s get to work, shall we?” You nodded, leaning forward slightly as he began to speak.

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

Finals week had passed, and you found yourself wandering the library for one last time before the semester came to an end. You found yourself doing this before every major break away from campus because you enjoyed the peacefulness of the library so much. The past month and a half had led to a handful of interesting interactions that disturbed your normally peaceful routine in ways you had not expected, however, you in no way minded those changes. You looked up and down the aisles, before turning to one and seeing a familiar face. Kim Namjoon, with his glasses perched upon his nose as always. He was glancing at a shelf just below eye level, causing him to lean forward just slightly. You hadn’t spoken to him since he tutored you for your anatomy test, which thankfully helped much more than you thought. You hadn’t even been looking for any new books. The one you had found during studying, you never ended up giving to him, the embarrassment from the mix up just totally pulling you out of that playfully flirty mood you had felt just moments before. However, maybe now was your chance. As you walked closer, you noticed Namjoon look over in your direction, and he smiled.

“Hey. Long time no see.” He said as you approached. “Looking at books?” You nodded, and he hummed. “Yeah, me too. I always get a bit sad when the library closes to the public so they can do summer classes.”

“I know. It makes me want to take summer classes.” You joked, and Namjoon laughed, which made your heart flutter. That was the first time you really ever heard it, and it was lovely. “I uhm…thanks for helping me with studying.”

“No problem. Did you pass?”

“Yes.”

“Good!” He grinned. “Glad I could help.” You nodded, stepping just slightly closer to him so you could see more books. “Looking for something in particular?”

“Yeah, I guess so.” You said softly, your eyes raised up to higher shelves.

“So am I.”

“I thought I saw it here last time, but-.” Suddenly, you got on your tiptoes. “I think that’s it.”

“Oh? What a coincidence, same here.” Namjoon said. You lifted your arm to grab the book, however, a big hand reached in front of yours, grabbing the book you were going for. “Oh.” He said, looking at you as you lower your hand. “Was that the book you-?” When you nodded, he hummed, pulling it off the shelf and examining it for a moment. “It looks interesting. I thought I would read it.”

“Yeah, I agree.” You said softly. Namjoon suddenly passed you the book, and you took it into your hands. The beautifully warm colors and the coffee cup starred you in the face, as the oak-colored title stared back at you.

“I knew it was that book you were going to show me,” Namjoon said. “I had found it a few days before and I actually was planning to use it on you, so hopefully you would talk to me.” You glanced at him as Namjoon pulled his hand out of his pocket. “So, what do you say? Coffee?” You nodded your head, smiling.

“I’m free next Tuesday.”

~END~

Return to Masterlist / Return to RM

#bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bts x reader #kim namjoon #rm #kim seokjin #jin #min yoongi #suga #jung hoseok #jhope #park jimin #jimin #kim taehyung #v #jeon jungkook #jungkook #kim namjoon x reader #college!au #rm x reader #Coffee on a Tuesday FF #BTS Oneshot #fanfiction

[stories-by-mocho]

Nolan Rhinehart

Note: this is the backstory for my Star Wars RPG character, enjoy!

-

The room reeked of dust and antiseptics. Artificial green light bled through in-betweens of rusted blinds, illuminating the orderly chaos better than any actual lighting inside. Standing in the middle of it was a man called Nolan, his gloved hands encrusted in the very same shade of red that stained the filthy floor. A Twi’lek laid motionless on the improvised operating table, the organs in her abdomen exposed by an expertly cut incision. To the left of her torso was lilac coloured powder thoughtfully packaged in small bags, bathed in a surgical tray full of sanitising liquid.

He paused when he heard a rhythmic knock.

As the makeshift door screeched open Nolan gripped on his scalpel, fresh blood still trickling down the sharpened edges. He was prepared, always prepared, to kill. But he was spared from the task. Nolan relaxed at the sight of his superior, Lieutenant Villius, dressed fully in stormtrooper armour with his helmet rested between his arm and hip.

As he made his way in, the lieutenant was trying really hard to hide his repugnance when he caught a glimpse of a foreign object quite literally stuffed between the Twi’lek’s skin and stomach. He averted his gaze only to find crammed in the far end of the dimly lit room, a person-sized tub filled to the brim with bacta fluid. There was something submerged in it, clearly humanoid. The odour of exposed bacta fluid, which would be about ten times more intense than iodoform, finally made its way to Villius’ nose. He grimaced.

“Why are you giving me that look,” Nolan exclaimed. “This was your idea.”

“I forget it’s always worse in person,” Villius said hoarsely.

“Don’t be a baby,” Nolan jeered monotonously. “If you’re that squeamish you should’ve stayed in the bar.”

Villius just managed to stop himself from starting an argument, remembering why he had to barge into Nolan’s house of horrors in the first place. “How much longer do you need?”

“This one should recover by daybreak, so we’re good to leave in the morning.” Nolan casually folded his arms, not really caring much for his transparent scrub getting smothered with bloodied gloves. “Assuming no complication occurs. In my end or yours.”

“What does that mean?”

“I’m still not convinced this plan of yours will follow through, Alnor,” Nolan answered frankly.

“Well, it’s too late to turn back now.” Villius shrugged. “We’ll be fine. Trust me.”

Nolan flashed him a smile. “I’d rather not this time.”

Villius scoffed to shroud how hurt he was by Nolan’s painfully obvious tone of doubt. “Well. I’ll let him know we’re coming.”

He took out a palm-sized communication device as he turned on his heel and left. The false smile on his face soured into a scowl the further away he paced from that room. His heavy footsteps filled the hallway accompanied by grotesque noises of pleasure coming out of the rooms on his sides, shut behind welded scraps of metal so thin Villius could hear every whisper of filth. He hurried out to the bar to be greeted by the sickly aroma of counterfeit booze and used hallucinogens. Anything was better than bacta fluid at this point.

-

The tips of her fingers twitched as her mind spun awkwardly into consciousness. She raised her hand to touch her face, but whatever her palm felt was not her own skin. She knew her eyes were open but all she could see was blackness, except for a dot of green light, dancing miles away from her body. She reached for it, and with her overstretched arm she broke a thin membrane that separated her and the rest of the world. Suddenly, as her senses came back to her all at once, she felt very trapped.

The Twi’lek hoisted herself up with both her hands, splashing the surrounding area with bacta fluid. Panicked, she hastily studied the room, realising that she had no idea where she was. Her limbs were weak but she managed to tear off her breathing apparatus and climb out of the tub, almost slipping in the process. She swore that she had been wearing clothes the last time she recalled. But honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she was conscious, nor did she know what had happened before she was knocked out. For now she just needed to get the hell out.

Her weak, slippery feet did their best to carry her body to wherever the exit may be. Panic, nausea, and fatigue set in her chest, and her breathing became rapid and heavy. She let out an involuntary whimper as she caught herself on the door handle before she fell on the rough, uneven ground. A small, hopeful smile formed on her lips. Ready to run away and leave this behind, she opened the door.

She gasped. What greeted her was the muzzle of a blaster pistol pointed directly between her eyes. The hallway was filled with noises of vulgarity, but Nolan’s utter silence encouraged the Twi’lek to stay quiet. He calmly, almost clinically, watched as his patient’s smile withered away into terror, droplets of tears seeping from her eyes. He flicked his pistol to the side, gesturing for her to go back in.

There were others like her. About eight other people of various races were loaded on the back of a large carrier, hands and feet bound with unexpectedly elaborate high-tech cuffs. She swallowed, gently fidgeting on the fabric of an orange jumpsuit her captive had told her to put on. Soon she realised everyone in the carrier was wearing what she recognised as Republic attire, for a reason she didn’t understand.

In front of her sat a sickly looking Human. His lips were dry and his eyes, weary, as if he had spent days without sleep. He was hugging his own stomach, shielding it from more harm that may or not be inflicted. Perhaps he had the same series of mysterious stitches on his abdomen as she did. But unlike him, she felt only slight discomfort, like something in her chest didn’t quite fit. She could do nothing else but watch him rock back and forth on his seat, muttering a quiet prayer to the stars, or the Force, or whatever cared enough to listen.

The carrier stopped. There was a clear absence of sound outside; wherever they were was void of any sort of activity. Death was the first and only thing that had come across the passengers’ minds as a stormtrooper entered, blaster pistol exhibited proudly on his utility belt.

“Good morning and congratulations,” Lieutenant Villius started, much too energetic for this time of day. “You’ve all been given an opportunity to repay your large sum of debt to Black Sun.”

His words broke the tension and hopelessness that had plagued the crowd. They muttered to themselves, questioning the authenticity of this man’s promise. But nevertheless a faint light of hope twinkled in everyone’s eyes.

“Now, we are on a tight schedule so I’ll make this quick,” Villius continued. “You are all affiliated to the Rebel Alliance. My associate and I found you setting up a base of operations. We decided to take you in for questioning. It is vital that you play this role until I say otherwise. Questions?”

Everyone looked at each other briefly before a Rodian, dressed similarly to the female Twi’lek, raised his bound hands meekly. “Where are you taking us?”

“Away from this garbage planet,” Villius answered vaguely. “Keep in mind that we will keep you alive until you’ve reached the destination, but other stormtroopers may try to kill you. And if you try anything brave or heroic, it will be the question of whose blaster would reach you first. When you stay in line you stay alive. Understood?”

The combination of delirium, bacta sickness, and this overly enthusiastic stormtrooper jabbering at light speed confused them even further than before. Not knowing how to react, they chose to stay silent.

As stressed as the prisoners were, none of them spent hours operating on nine subjects with a deadline. Nolan tapped his foot restlessly, and stopped when the repeated sound of his boot hitting the metal floor of the vehicle was starting to corrode whatever was left of his patience. After working a few years with Villius, he thought he would eventually get used to his giddiness in the morning.

“We don’t have long until they become septic,” Nolan explained. “Especially that Human. He’s looking worse than I anticipated.”

“It’ll be fine,” Villius reassured, turning the engine on. “We only need them alive until we get to a starship.”

“This is a really, really bad idea,” Nolan said.

“I’m sure you’ll feel better when you see how much we’re getting paid for this,” Villius beamed, his tone somewhat antagonistic. “Drink your tea and relax. It’s all me from this point forward.”

Unsurprisingly, thanks to Villius, they easily managed to move the captives into a ship that would fly them to a Star Destroyer. Of course every trooper he spoke to would trust him. He was quite literally everything his subordinates wanted for a commander; good humoured, understanding, personable, dedicated, patriotic, the list could go on. Despite him knowing that he really was nothing like the facade he constructed, the praises still fed into his ego. 

Villius was not ready to admit that he was scared of this plan falling apart; that Nolan’s reluctance to involve himself in this job was completely justified. He knew the riskiest part was about five minutes away, where neither he nor Nolan could lower their guard for even a second.

Security became much tighter with vital political prisoners on board, but it didn’t stop Nolan from examining the Human kidnapee. His face was much paler than before, his skin drenched in cold sweat. A double check of the other prisoners concluded that Humans were just not built for this specific kind of drug trafficking. He didn’t blame himself, as he was more used to the type of practice that involved harvesting organs rather than stuffing things in-between them.

As xenologically insightful as this experience was, Nolan would rather this Human live for however long as they stayed in the Destroyer. An unexplained death of a sick Rebel would not only panic the paranoid Imperial officers on board, it might also call for an autopsy, which to him would be the absolute worst thing that could spoil this stupid plan.

When the ship landed in the hangar, Villius found the second lieutenant anxiously waiting. Her eyes were focused on him alone, making him wonder if he had a misstep. The captain strutted towards him, greeting him with a look of distress and urgency.

“Lieutenant Corbell,” Villius addressed with a nervous smile.

“There is something I need to discuss with you,” Corbell said, almost cutting him off. “It’s very important.”

“I’m afraid I’ve got my hands full with Rebel affiliates. Whatever it is, I’m sure you can carry on without me,” Villius said purposely in a dismissive manner, hoping that she would be put off.

“Well, that can wait,” Corbell said, taking a glimpse at the line of captives guarded by the same number of troopers. “It’s not like they’re going anywhere.”

“But-”

And without another word, she marched off.

Villius quietly muttered several curses as he strode briskly through the progressively busier hallways, much too exasperated to acknowledge any greetings from his subordinates. With every step he counted how many seconds he could have used to load the prisoners to a starship, and more importantly, how increasingly peeved Nolan must have been from being left to fend for himself. Despite him not commenting on the unexpected change of plans, it really was not hard to tell how agitated he was back in the hangar, even with his helmet on.

The off-white hallway felt more claustrophobic than Nolan remembered. The air was heavy with tension. Everything seemed to fall silent the more they were further away from the busy hangar, tapping of boots and clicks of blaster rifles gently grazing on laminate filling the stillness. Nolan couldn’t help but to sheepishly take a glimpse of the Human behind him, and as if on cue, he began to wobble and brushed shoulders with the stormtrooper next to him.

“Hey!” the trooper yelled, breaking the silence. He jerked the captive against the wall, blaster rifle thrusted upon his chin. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, scum?”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Nolan warned with virtually nothing behind the threat. Under the stern pretence of his standard stormtrooper helmet, Nolan was the opposite of calm. There were so many unwanted things that could happen to this particular captive.

The trooper paused, looking right at him for a few seconds before backing off. The Human faltered to the floor, gasping and exhaling as he began collecting himself. 

Nolan’s initial surge of relief vanished at the sight of the trooper’s boot making violent contact on the prisoner’s chest. Nolan almost shouted, instinctively rushing towards him as he would to an injured soldier on the field.

The war room was grey and miserable, not unlike the rest of the spaces in the Destroyer. Soundproofing installed on the walls only spoke of how paranoid the officers were of information breach. As a result, it became quiet; uncomfortably so. Before Villius could start making conversation, Corbell rushed to the door she forgot to lock. The uncharacteristic lack of any positive emotion on her face was starting to raise concern.

“Okay, Corbell. Now that we’re safe from Rebel spies,” Villius mocked. “What’s going on?”

“Last night one of our scouts recovered this from the side of the road,” Corbell started, taking out a clear bag with what looked like a comm device, destroyed and put back together. Villius, getting less and less patient, watched how delicate and careful she handled the device when she took it out of its sleeve. “The reason why I’m bringing it to your attention, well…”

As she activated it, the vague irritation on Villius’ expression slowly faded. Dal Perhi, vigo of Black Sun, or at least a still image of him appeared in blue holographic light out of the device in the second lieutenant’s palm. Villius’ heart suddenly sank to his stomach, his mind running thousands of miles an hour. It was obviously a burner.

But it was his.

There were eight pairs of terror-stricken eyes glued at the sight of a man, blood oozing out of his nose, mouth opened as he struggled to inhale. The stormtroopers stood apathetically and lost interest immediately after Nolan reached him. As he knelt down to examine the injured man, the closest trooper noticed a growing stain of crimson pooling on the man’s chest. Nolan chose to say nothing, even going as far as acting like it was not abnormal.

“We need this one to survive,” Nolan said, half-lying. “Help me get him in his cell.”

“Should I call the medics for you?” a trooper volunteered.

“It’s fine,” Nolan said, attempting to help the Human stand up. “This shouldn’t be difficult.”

“I’ve called them in,” another trooper chimed kindly. “Don’t work too hard, doc. Remember, we’re all here to help you.”

There was nothing Nolan wanted more than to bite the heads off of these good-natured, thoughtful idiots. The patient was laid on an elevated bit of ground in his cell. Nolan wouldn’t call it a bed, it was made with the same material as the flooring. As he expected, the stitching on the man’s abdomen had unravelled. Easy fix. He would be done in ten minutes, if it weren’t for the unnecessary medics that barged in, instantly crowding the cell.

“I don’t need you here,” Nolan said bluntly. “I can handle this. His stitches just opened, is all.”

“Er, doctor Rhinehart,” the medic shyly called. “I know I’m not as qualified as you but… That man looks like he needs intensive care.”

And here, in the heat of the moment, Nolan realised he had forgotten about the bigger health issue this man had; sepsis.

Villius’ hand rested on the grip of his blaster pistol on his belt, staring attentive and cautiously at the second lieutenant. He could physically feel his facade slowly decaying, his false smile looking disjointed on the mistrustful veil over his expression. 

“You need to destroy that thing, Corbell,” Villius said, struggling to keep his voice down. “It’s too dangerous to keep.”

“I was thinking of sending it over to law enforcement.” Corbell was much too focused on the device to notice the irregularity in the lieutenant’s behaviour. “We may not be able to touch Dal Perhi, but what if this thing has intel on on-going Black Sun activities. If I can find a way to play back some of the calls…”

“No, wait,” Villius cut her off, aggressively grabbing onto her hand as she fiddled with the frail device.

“Hey!” Corbell exclaimed, Villius’ force hindering her from holding on to the device.

A small piece of it chipped away when it dropped the cold, hard floor. The hologram disappeared upon impact but immediately glitched back to view, and unlike previously, the image of the vigo was animated.

“I’ll think about it,” Dal Perhi said coldly, the sound of his voice crackling in static. “After I get my shipment.”

“You will,” a reassuring voice replied. Corbell furrowed her brows at how disturbingly familiar it was. “Give us a couple more days. I guarantee it’ll reach you.”

She turned towards the lieutenant, perplexed. She didn’t realise Villius had pointed his pistol right to her chin.

“You’re already a few days late, Villius,” the vigo continued.

His eyes shifted into a diabolical shade of green, completely distinguishable from the lieutenant she knew. But evidently she knew less about him than she thought. Villius noticed the slight glance Corbell took down towards her belt. Without hesitation, just as she pulled her pistol out, Villius pulled the trigger.

“Vigo. How many smugglers do you know who’s got my day job?”

She laid on the floor, motionless, dead. Villius vented his frustration out on the comm device, stomping it beyond recognition. This time he made sure every bit was disintegrated. He scoffed, mocking himself for not being able to come up with a way to get out of this situation clean. With specks of the second lieutenant’s blood on his white armour and helmet, he made his way through the hallway in search of his companion.

A stretcher passed by with a very sick looking, very familiar Human man dressed in Rebel trooper uniform. Trailing not far behind was exactly the person Villius needed to stop. He grabbed Nolan by the shoulders and pulled him around the corner.

“Alnor, I can explain. He got assaulted and his stitches opened, then--” Nolan began frantically.

“We need to leave,” Villius said gravely.

He paused for a second. “What?”

“Right now,” Villius resumed. “We need to be anywhere else but here.”

-

The Star Destroyer edged further as the starship flew away, and eventually, when the ship entered hyperspace, Nolan could no longer see it. He had to give credit to Villius for thinking of a fail safe, that was what the old ship was called. Fail-Safe. Nolan leaned his back to the co-pilot chair, for the first time in days savouring a moment of tranquility. There was an air of peace coming from Villius despite how frantic his movements were. They’ve escaped, and whatever consequences they were going to face, they would think about later.

“I told you so,” Nolan said quietly, sombrely.

“Yeah,” Villius replied.

#star wars #ocs #star wars ocs #nolan rhinehart

[primedirection]

Needy

Harry thinks Y/N is needy

Weeks go by and almost all has been swept under the rug. As far as you knew Harry had been completely oblivious to the event he missed. Only ever asking questions about it when seeing the trophy and although it made you furious. Very furious. You made the conscious decision to pretty much pretend it never happened in order to save yourself the grief.

Why get so worked up over something that wasn't even a blip on his radar? He probably wouldn't react the way he's supposed to, therefore causing more drama so there was really no point.

Especially since he gets swept into a mania of his own and things are a little tense. Four different performances this week, a televised album release party slash live show, not including other TV appearances, and the perfectionist in him is running wild.

Okay so actually.. things are super tense these days.

The late rehearsals and early sound checks were meshing together. Cutting into the limited time that you two barely had to spend together. Since he was bound to start his international promotional tour in the following weeks.

Today it was Harry's idea to come out and spend the day with him and yet you wished to be anywhere he wasn't.

While in the backseat of a town car on the way to the venue, Harry was completely and utterly glued to his phone. Scowl on his face and stress apparent in the tension of his shoulders. You thought that it would help if you loved on him little bit, maybe with a warm squeeze around his tummy and chaste kiss to the cheek. So you did just that. Smiling an encouraging, "Love you," up at him and waiting for the returned gesture.

But you couldn't have been more wrong.

Harry flinches instinctively, startled more or less and when you smile at him he frowns thoroughly irritated, "Can yeh give me two bloody minutes to breathe? I literally feel like I'm suffocating!" he snaps.

Hurt, you deflate immediately muttering a quick, "Sorry," before sliding back on your side as close as possible to the window. Trying to give him the space he needed.

Harry kills all hope of the ride becoming pleasant again when he huffs a grim but satisfied, "Thank you." Then occupies himself with his phone again.

He doesn't say another word until you arrive at the venue, and it's to a production manager. You get a tour of the backstage area and then of the enormous arena itself. In that process your previous inner turmoil was put out by empathy and pride. All at once you understood why he was so on edge but you were also extremely proud of him. Jeff had just informed him that it was a sold out show too. That all these empty seats would be filled up just to see him.

Filled with enamor, you couldn't help yourself when you catch him coming off the stage. Quietly discussing a delay in the equipment set up with Jeff. A playful pat on his butt instantly grabs his attention and you smile excitedly, "You would be the one to sell out this massive place, I'm so happy for you babe!"

Jeff quickly makes himself scarce and for the lack of an audience your grateful. But perhaps you should've taken note because once again Harry startles in an irritable way. The muscles in his jaw taught as he suddenly and briskly ushers you by the upper arm to an unoccupied area backstage, "Jesus Christ, why are you everywhere I turn? You do realize that I'm working right now, right? I don't have time to deal with this needy shit all day."

Though this time around you struggle to just take it on the chin. Harry was literally treating you like some burden that begged to come and not like you had to clear your whole schedule of things that were actually top priority just to be here. "Needy? I'm just trying to be supportive!"

"Okay and you can't do that from the stands? You're not some sort of puppy that needs to be wrapped round my leg Y/N! Look, I know I invited you but the point is to enjoy the ride and go with the flow not stand in my way." The fact that he lowers his voice and yet his tone is blaring really hits you in the feelings.

It wasn't just because he was stressed but he genuinely felt that way.

Suddenly, you didn't want to be here nonetheless anywhere near him. You hoped that he detected your new jilted attitude, "Sorry, you're right. From now on you wont even know I'm here." You smile so overtly sweet it bleeds of sarcasm.

Harry doesn't even realize the lack of sincerity in it anyway. Stalking off after a surly, "Perfect." Leaves his lips.

With that you go to sit in the stands as he wanted, but on your way theres commotion coming from the same direction Harry just went. In the distance you spot him greet one of his opening acts with the most enthusiasm in the world. Hugging her and laughing with her like there wasn't a care in the world. When literally less than a minute ago he was yelling at you. Suddenly you couldn't get away from him fast enough. Only finding solace in the nosebleeds rather than the enticing idea of going home altogether.

This is disturbingly new. You'd been to plenty of Harry's shows where his moods often ranged from amped to sometimes getting nervous enough to maybe make him a little frustrated. But even then it wasn't unleashed on you, and like that. How could he treat you one way and in the next breath switch it up? You didn't like that one bit.

Watching his set was too difficult to enjoy anymore due to bias, unable to stop playing his words in your head. Needy? Was it really needy to show him some love in times he was obviously anxious? Definitely not, and even if it was it didn't give him an excuse to be an asshole about it. Especially since he wanted you to come in the first place.

Rehearsals drag on for what feels like eternity. Costume changes and numerous sound checks later, lunch is offered in the catering area but you politely decline. Hanger seemed like such a small price to pay in exchange for being subjected to his unnecessary attitude. In this case distance was best for the both of you.

Proven when he doesn't even bother to come look for you, or say anything really, at least not until he's ready to go home. Even then it's only a text.

On the ride home his mood has done a total 180. In the greatest mood to talk about his band mates and opening act's hijinks. You honestly tried not to take the way he acted personally but the complete personality flip made it impossible. How could he be that unfair?

Making it a point to avoid any and all contact with him by sitting in the same position as you had when you arrived. He uneasily takes notice, "Alright?"

"Yeah, just tired..." Of your bullshit! You mentally add on glaring out the window. Conveniently he received a phone call anyway.

Once you get home you decide to cure your possible hanger and make something quick to eat. Missing Harry reappear in the room in the process, "I guess catering doesn't count as dinner huh?" He attempts to be playful with you to check your temperature. Your unusual silence naturally made him uneasy.

"I didn't eat. Didn't want to risk overcrowding so I stayed in the stands," Like you wanted! You ached to add but held your tongue.

He doesn't dwell on it anyway. Chirping and fluttering about behind you as you make your way around the kitchen and to the table. "Love, guess what... I get to do a funny skit with James in a couple days!"

"That's great," you reply sitting down and albeit with forced enthusiasm.

He wordlessly follows suit practically singing, "Do yeh wanna come watch? It'll be fun."

Your sarcasm comes instinctively with a sharp roll of your eyes, "Like today? Hard pass, enjoy yourself though."

Harry's eagerness melts away like an ice cube on a hot summer sidewalk. No longer in the mood for elusiveness, "Alright I'll bite, what's going on with yeh?"

"With me? Nothing." You shrug shoveling around the food on your plate, loosing your appetite more and more by the second. Impending doom so palpable you could damn near taste that instead.

"Doesn't seem like nothing," he retorts with a brow cocked expectantly.

He could go to hell with the explanation he thought he deserved, "Doesn't matter," you sigh pleading to the high heavens that he'd leave it alone so that once again you could save yourself the agonizing grief.

Just as stubborn as you are he continues to push, "Based on how you're acting, it apparently does. So what is it?"

"Just drop it Harry," you groan agitated. At this rate you'll definitely be staying in the guest room tonight.

"No," This time he takes it a step further and moves your plate out of reach so that there was nothing to distract you. "Tell me." He demands.

Though the manner in which he does it is not to simply just to get to the root of the problem and solve it, but seems to be just for the confrontation. To point fingers at you being the problem, and so you snap, "Okay fine! You treat me like shit and it's not okay."

Unsurprisingly his face contorts into total confusion, "Where's this coming from?!"

But you're all too thrilled to remind him, "In the car and in rehearsals. One minute you're snapping at me for being needy when I was just trying to offer support, and in the next you're giving all the love and admiration to your opener and everyone else you work with!"

The frown etching on his face told you that he was going to deny everything and he did not disappoint, "No I wasn't, yeh were all over me,"

"Yeah okay, because reminding you that I love you and how proud I am is smothering?" An incredulous dry laugh summons itself, "Really?"

"When I'm in the middle of a conversation with Jeff! Obviously at that moment I was frustrated." Harry argues.

"You weren't frustrated when you hugged Kacy and joked around with Mitch right after! It's like everyone else gets a pass except me, but you know what it doesn't matter. Just keep that same energy so that I can properly navigate you. Because if I was suffocating then then I must be suffocating all the time." You glumly add, standing up and grabbing the plate you no longer had any interest in eating anymore.

In response Harry sighs loudly, and for a moment you start to believe that he's beginning to come to his senses but a quick glance reveals the most condescending and patronizing eye roll with it. Eventually he stands too, restoring his chair the way he found it. A passive yet aggressive, "Just forget I fucking asked," muttered under his breath.

Irking you enough to toss the plate absentmindedly into the sink, "Or just be a man about it and fucking own it!" You shout at him angrily.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? I can't own something yeh literally made from nothing!" He shouts back.

"From nothing are you kidding me?! Why the hell is it so hard for you to admit when you're wrong! I am so tired of sweeping everything you do under the rug! I let that stupid fashion show slide but today-" Before you can get the words out properly its like something literally clicks in Harry's head. Making him angry as well.

His fingers rake frustratedly through his silky mane, "So that's what this is really about hmm? Why you've been acting so-" He exhales heavily through flared nostrils. You stare annoyed but patiently wait for him to make his point, "For fucksake how many times do we have to go through this? She is just a friend! Ken needed me-"

It's a combination of things. The way he says it and the gall of what he actually says that makes you feel three words short of a brain aneurysm. You explode, "She needed you? Harry, I needed you!" Your chest heaves from the exertion of shouting, "I made an absolute fool of myself that night! That had almost nothing to do with her and everything to do about us! The one fucking time I ask you to put me first, I'm last on your list. I know it's not the Grammy's or the Met Gala but it was important to me."

His head shakes in denial as he forces himself not to roll his eyes again, "Yeh miss things that are important to me all the time Y/N and I never whine about it!"

"If I'm whining about it its because there's a huge difference in not being able to catch a flight across the world at the last minute and not showing up to something on a whim— something I've been talking about for the past three years now!" You yell, so angry that it's actively getting harder to see straight. Apparently the wound had been fresher than you both thought.

"That's not fair," he argues. In his mind the situations were like comparing oranges to apples.

"Exactly." You concede folding your arms across your chest. Getting him to see the error in his ways was something like playing chess. Though the point wasn't to defeat but to enlighten. "How am I supposed to feel when you still don't even seem all that sorry or remorseful about it?"

Defense takes reign over Harry's better judgment as he starts to feel like this unethical argument is not meant for him to win, "Really? Over a bloody office party?!" He scoffs incredulous and somewhat amused at the same time. "I could understand if I did something actually wrong and horrible but this doesn't equate-"

At that another agonizing explosion erupts within and hits hard mentally and emotionally. Starting out as a fit of rage when you slam your hand down on the counter in reflex but rapidly that dwindles down into crushing defeat. It wasn't just the attempt in basically talking to a brick wall but the fact that he didn't want to accept what he did wrong. Maybe ego or even his foolish pride is to blame, either way he just wasn't going to.

Obviously you were wasting your breath but there was just one important fact that your very own pride wouldn't allow you to leave without getting it off your chest first, "Stop calling it that! Stop trying to diminish what it was! Because even if it was a lemonade stand it wouldn't have made the slightest difference — it was important to me Harry."

His gaze passively transfers to kitchen floor and for a few moments you wait for him to say something—anything. But when nothing comes you give up, heading straight to the guest room a total mess. So overwhelmed with frustration and emotions.

(AN: Come share your thoughts with me!xx)

Next Part

#Harry styles angst #Harry styles imagines #Harry x reader #Harry styles #one direction imagines #Harry Styles one shot #One direction one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #all me #I write I guess #SWGALW