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shepherds-of-haven · 4 years

Note

How would the romances with the RO's be in a college!AU? And how would the romance start?

Hmm I don’t know necessarily what they’d be like without having to write the college!AU myself lol, it sort of would depend on how the story itself went! As for how they start...

Blade: classic. Blade and MC bump into each other on campus when they’re both preoccupied with something--literally bump. Books go spilling everywhere. They bend down to pick them up. Look up and BAM. Blade has a crush. But then MC has to hurry away because they’re in a rush until next semester. They have a class together! But Blade is too shy to talk to MC so MC thinks he’s forgotten her/doesn’t recognize her. They have more classes together and with each shared class, he plucks up the courage to talk to her after she drops a pencil and he picks it up (now their desks are actually next to each other). They start hanging out under the guise of being study partners for all their shared classes.

Trouble: he’s playing a game of toss the football or frisbee golf or whatever in the quad and either he or his friend nails MC in the head with a projectile. Trouble comes jogging over and profusely apologizes. MC slyly or jokingly suggests he buy them dinner to make up for giving them a concussion and he readily agrees. That’s their first date!

Tallys: she’s growing plants in the student lab as part of her thesis and is frustrated that one of her plants is struggling to grow. She goes outside to smoke and starts talking to herself out loud in frustration. “The conditions are exactly the same. Why would one ____ specimen weaken while the others thrived?” MC is also outside (either smoking as well or just tending to other plants) and says, “It sounds like being on the end of the row is hampering its roots. Maybe because they grow westward?” Tallys whirls around and is like ‘who the fuck are you??’ all suspicious this is a rival student who’s trying to sabotage her thesis. But MC just likes plants! They talk a bit more and Tallys reluctantly agrees to try re-potting the weak specimen in a bigger container (idk I don’t know plants, you get the picture). A week later, the plant is thriving! Tallys waits in the same spot outside to see if MC will show up, not smoking this time. She crosses her arms and says, “You were right about the plant. I’ll buy you dinner as thanks for saving my thesis.” MC accepts but replies they don’t need the thanks. Tallys smirks. “Consider it a bribe, then. I bet I’ll need you for future consultations.”

Shery: she’s working in the coffee shop and MC comes by every once in a while and makes conversation, pairing the coffee with a winning smile. Shery falls head over heels, but surprisingly doesn’t get nervous or stammers when MC comes in. In fact, she looks forward to it! But their interactions are always a few minutes every few days, until one day Briony is behind the counter too and does something sly like suggest they look cute together or writes Shery’s phone number on a napkin for MC or something. MC gets it, smiles at Shery, and says, “Can I take you out for a coffee? Somewhere that’s... not here, I guess.” Briony: “You can do it here!” Shery: “Yes!”

Riel: he’s playing piano in one of the practice rooms and, as he’s leaving, he sees MC leaning on the wall opposite of the practice room door. Riel asks MC if they’re waiting for anyone, as he’d reserved the room for several hours, and MC answers, “No, I just heard you playing and it was so beautiful that I got lost in the music. It’s Scarlatti, right?” Riel gets a huge brain-boner and gives MC his number under the guise of offering ‘free piano lessons’ if MC wants to learn. MC surprises him by actually showing up!

Chase: Chase gets a starring role in the play he secretly auditioned for, but he’s super nervous because he’s never acted in anything before and doesn’t want to fuck it up for the other play members. MC, an actor in a minor role, hears him fretting over the phone one night to Trouble or someone and offers to help him rehearse and ease his anxiety. They start meeting up to read lines together, MC coaching him, and the chemistry between them steadily builds. Chase realizes during rehearsal--when he has to kiss his star opposite--that it’s really MC he’d like to be kissing, and right after that he takes them out on a date and confesses his feelings!

Red: MC and Red are assigned to be lab partners together in a science class, and they start flirting from the get-go, talking about the CHEMISTRY between them as they measure stuff in beakers. They exchange numbers for class and start meeting at Red’s dorm/townhouse for study sessions. One day they give up early and put on a movie, but neither of them are really concentrating on the movie. Before even halfway they’re making out on the couch!

Ayla: Ayla gets drunk at a party and meets MC. She’s so plastered she’s dancing all up on MC and shouting things like “you’re pretty! I like you! I’m gonna marry you someday!” At the end of the night she loses Briony and Lavinet, so MC offers to walk her home to make sure she gets there safely. Ayla is either so drunk MC gives her a piggyback ride or they have to hold hands the whole way. (Ayla gets lost and doesn’t remember where she lives several times.) When they get to her doorstep she grabs MC and kisses them, but they gently ease away and see her safely indoors. In the morning Ayla wants to die from the embarrassment and contemplates jumping from the window. Instead she rides on her Vespa to her favorite breakfast diner for some hangover cures and what do you know! MC works at that restaurant part-time and reveals they thought they recognized her as a regular but weren’t sure... but the Vespa seals it. Still humiliated, Ayla buys them breakfast on their break but quickly realizes she wants to spend more time with them when the meal is over, so she asks for their number!

Briony: Briony is training at her MMA gym and hitting a punching bag pretty hard, venting out her frustrations for the day. MC, who also trains at the gym, comes over and asks if she’d like a sparring partner instead of a bag; Briony laughs and says, “Only if you’re okay with getting hit.” “Wouldn’t have come over if I wasn’t,” MC quips. They spar, and the electricity and flirtation between them is pretty obvious. Briony is grinning--she hasn’t fought anyone like this for a while--but then she glances up and thinks she sees a face watching her in the gym’s front window. Her mood immediately deflates, and MC notices. They notice that she seems nervous or anxious, so they offer to walk her out to her car. Briony shakes her head and asks if they’d like to grab a milkshake or dinner at this diner down the road instead; she needs to take her mind off things. MC agrees and soon enough, Briony’s laughing and happy again. They have such a good time that they exchange numbers and agree to make it a routine: sparring and then eating together!

Lavinet: Lavinet’s in this higher-level class--I don’t know, say it’s like... fashion design, or pre-law or something. At the end of the semester, the professor chooses a handful of students to go with her to Paris for a study abroad trip/internship. Lavinet’s pretty assured that she’ll get one of the slots because her father is a good friend of the professor. But then MC shows up and starts beating her in class: answering all the questions first or correctly, getting just one point above her on tests, etc. It drives Lavinet crazy, and they become rivals. Lavinet regularly snubs him and gives him the cold shoulder, feeling competitive. MC gives it right back. But then they find out a third person is planning on cheating in order to get that internship slot, and MC and Lavinet vow to beat them the traditional way. Putting aside their differences in the face of a common enemy, Lavinet and MC become allies and study buddies. Eventually Lavinet deigns to give MC the opportunity to ask her out, at the end of the semester when they find out that they’re the two who have gotten the internship. The entire time she insisted she hated MC’s guts, but everyone else in her life saw through it lol. Maybe their first date is in Paris!

#Shepherds of Haven #college AU #modern AU #AU #college #university #romance options #romance #anon

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suddenlysackler · 4 years

Text

Nice to Meet You

How you met each of the boys

Adam Sackler

Adam hit you with his bike

He promises he didn’t see you stepping off of the curb but you think he did it on purpose

He can’t help but laugh at how dazed you look at his feet, once the initial “oh fuck I hurt someone” wore off

And you were pissed about it

Scrambling to your feet and screaming and yelling at him, poking his chest and calling him every insult you knew

He’s still laughing because, fuck, you’re fucking adorable

No, you’re stunning

About two minutes into your raving and ranting and his laughing at the absurdity of it all because it was and accident and he did apologize, he notices the scrapes on your arms and knees

Insists that you let him take you to his place to clean you up because it’s not more than a two minute walk and you could yell at him more on the way and he promises he isn’t a weirdo (HA)

And despite your better judgement, you follow him with your tail between your legs, feeling so bad because you’d just chewed out this guy who doesn’t seem like a total asshole

The ten minutes it should have taken him to clean you up turns into almost five hours perched on his kitchen counter while he sits just below your feet where he had ended up after swiping antibiotic ointment over the last of your scrapes

You just talk, you don’t know how it happens but he’s candid and so fucking easy to talk to, it’s like talking to an old friend

When you see the time you curse and say you’ve gotta get going

He rolls his eyes and tells you to stay

When you ask if his girlfriend will be pissed if you’re here when she gets home he shuts you up with a kiss

After he pulls back he wonders out loud if he misread the room

You answer with a kiss of your own

Clyde Logan

You and Clyde meet through mutual friends

You and your own friends had trekked over to Duck Tape after a long day at work, needing something, anything to take the edge off

And, apparently, one of your friends knew one of Jimmy’s friends, the two hovering around the bar while Clyde worked

You saddled up next to one of your friends, sort of off to the side of the action, and rested your elbows on the bar

Introductions are hastily made between your two smaller groups and Jimmy’s friend mentions Clyde’s name and you almost convulse right there when you catch a glimpse of gentle eyes and just the hint of a smile tugging at pouty lips

Clyde got to you last and could have kicked himself for making you wait, my oh my you were beautiful and someone that beautiful shouldn’t be kept waiting

As he asks what you’ll have to drink, his drawl hits your ears sweeter than honey

After he brings you back your drink, you bat your eyelashes, talk all soft and such, try just about everything to anchor his attention on you

You’re successful and Clyde swears he hasn’t talked with a customer that wasn’t family so much ever

Duck Tape easily becomes a staple in your week

So does Clyde

But despite your initial boldness in getting him to pay attention to you, you’re just as shy as Clyde is

Who makes the first move at Jimmy’s insistence

Poor boy is so nervous he asks you to get drinks after he’s done for the evening

As if you weren’t sitting in a bar

So you ask him if he wouldn’t mind coming to your place so you could show him the different drinks you know how to make

When he asks what you know and you answer “I can crack you open a bottle of beer” he gives a hearty laugh

It’s the first time you hear it, the first time you see his breathtaking smile

And after that night, it most certainly wasn’t the last.

Daniel Jones

Dan and you get tasked with running internship programming in the Senate

It’s not exactly what you wanted this summer and you’re begrudgingly participating until your partner walks in all tall, dark and handsome in a nicely pressed suit

He’s quiet until your supervisor suggests paying by stipend so the interns can be paid less than the minimum wage

Then he goes the fuck off

And shit if you weren’t sold on Dan now, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back

While you can’t necessarily straight out flirt, you slowly start taking lunch breaks with Dan

He’s really grateful for the company

You’re a welcomed interruption in his stream of consciousness while he works

A gentle reminder to eat and take care of himself

And you are more than capable of going toe to toe with him when your discussions get more heated

Dan really falls for you when the interns get there

He likes watching you work with them

You’re patient and willing to teach and explain everything

And when did you get that fucking beautiful

So he starts intentionally walking past your office

Strikes up conversations when he can and even starts figuring out where you’ll be at certain parts of the day (he swears it’s not creepy don’t judge)

At the end of the summer, you finally break and ask him out

He kisses you right on the steps of the Capitol building when you do

The best yes you’ve ever received

Flip Zimmerman

Flip gives you a jump start after you get stranded in Colorado Springs

You’re driving cross country to meet your new niece between jobs and your car breaks down on one of those quiet country roads and you know the police department isn’t a tow company but you literally don’t know who to call

So you call the police

And Flip happens to be one of the only people available to come jump you, given the fact that he’s between cases

So he grumbles and heads out to the closest landmark you had provided and just about loses it when he sees you

You’re so perfect, he hasn’t ever seen anyone as stunning as you

When he gets out to jump your car he flirts, asks you questions and makes you laugh without trying

And scrambles back to his car for a piece of paper to scribble his number down, leaving you with the promise of a phone call when you reach your destination

After three days and no word he feels dejected

And then the phone rings

It’s you, asking for an Officer Zimmerman

Honestly? Flip is over the moon and hangs on your every word through the receiver

He asks you to stop by and let him take you on a date on your way back home and you gladly accept and, ultimately, take a permanent detour in Colorado Springs

Ronnie Peterson

Ronnie and you meet after you both argue over the last copy of a new book on it’s first day on shelves

Honestly it’s a bit comical how the two of you go at it

It’s like watching two middle schoolers

Finally, you two compromise

Split the cost, take turns reading it because neither of you are interested in waiting to read it

So you buy it and develop a stupid little schedule for you two to read it within the first couple of weeks of buying it

Your little trade offs turn into little book club meetings

Until Ronnie finally asks you to actually get coffee and sit down and discuss it

When you agree and you’re sitting under the warm lighting of the coffee shop, Ronnie is taken aback at how gorgeous you are

And is pissed that he missed it because he was so obsessed with the stupid fucking book

But absolutely doesn’t regret that your argument had gotten him your number and what seemed to be at least a blossoming acquaintanceship

On the other side of the table, you’re just as taken with Ronnie

And your heart almost bursts when his glasses fog up from his hot drink

So you take a chance and ask if he’d want to see the movie adaptation of the book with you when it came out in a few weeks

He immediately says yes

Even asks if it’s a date

Kicks himself again when you turn bright red because, yeah, you want it to be a fucking date

Needless to say you keep getting coffee in the weeks to come and get to know each other even more

And he kisses you for the first time outside the movie theater

He takes you back to the car early, maybe like half way through the movie

He wants to make out

You want to make out

The movie sucked anyway

Paterson

You accidentally get on Paterson’s bus on your first day commuting to your job by public transportation after your car breaks down

Pat smiles when you pay your fare, fingers twitching as his mind swirled with the tomes of paper he could fill with prose about your eyes

He won’t lie, he was more than a little concerned when the bus approached the last stop on the route and you were still in your seat

His concern only heightened when he noticed the tears streaking down your cheeks

And yeah, he’s more of an observer, but he can’t help himself as his feet carry him back to sit next to you after letting the last of the passengers out and pulling over

You explain that you had taken the wrong bus and were now over an hour late to your job as a professor at Columbia

He m e l t s

Tells you oh so softly what bus you actually need to get on and even tells you where his route connects with that route

Fuck he even offers you cab money he feels so awful that you’re late to work

You decline but smile at how sweet he is and even move to stand and hold on to the pole closest to him and chat over the thirty minutes it takes you to get to the right stop

You thank him profusely as you step off and Pat drives away, knowing that he’ll be writing about you at lunch, that much is inevitable

Two days later you get on his bus again and he raises his eyebrows skeptically

You give him a scrap of paper and a smile before moving to the back and sitting down, getting off at the same stop he had shown you before

He looks at the paper at lunch and could have passed out at your number and a request for a thank you cup of coffee, which he gladly accepts

Charlie Barber

You meet Charlie at a Broadway Cares/Equity Fights Aids volunteer meeting

You run in late with a latte in your hand and plop down right next to him, hair windswept, cheeks pink, and smelling like coffee beans

Literally, Charlie thinks a piece of heaven just sat down next to him

You apologize to him for the interruption, double taking when you see how handsome the man next to you is

And for the next hour, you two nudge each other and make jokes under your breath

You get assigned to the same site for the next fundraising effort just by chance

And while you get to know the other four people in your group, you and Charlie stay stuck to each other like glue

Even though there are plenty of people you both know through work

You had just kind of clicked

And at the end, you find yourself lingering in the small auditorium the meeting was held in

Neither of you really wanting to split although you’d see each other again soon

So Charlie takes a chance and asks if you’d want another latte

His palms are sweating because he literally hasn’t asked someone out in years

That’s what this was right?

But you say yes and let him pay for your second latte

And hold his hand

“It’s cold and you don’t have pockets on your sweater or gloves”

He walks you home even, laughing when you tell him where your building is and remarking that his building is two blocks away

You give him your number anyway, mumbling something about not wanting rocks thrown at your window at 3:00am

And he hugs you so tight before you head upstairs

It’s the tightest hug you’ve ever gotten

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dragonrajafanfiction · 3 years

Text

Cassell Cynic

@hectabdr @hectab For my Dragon Raja Bestie! :D A Gift Fic

These two are his idea. I just loved the idea.

“The weather is a balmy 74 degrees and sunny, low humidity and perfect for just hanging out and going for a walk in the lovely city parks of Chicago and now we’re going to a selection of some of Coltrane’s finest jazz compilations....”

On the East Lawn of the Cassell College Campus people were indeed out and about in the sun. The breeze ruffled the skirts of the girls carrying books and laughing to themselves. They cast glances his way and smirked, looking down at him with haughty eyes while he lay on a bench with his sunglasses over his eyes. Somewhere on site, the bells tolled the hour. 2 pm. It was time for afternoon classes to start.

In other words, time for a nap.

He lay on the bench with John Coltrane’s sultry saxophone in his ears. He studied how this man could weave such a delightfully heart pulling melody. Now there was a true genius, able to hone a natural craft into such perfection and gift it to the world for free listening.

But right when the music had reached its natural emotional zenith, it suddenly cut off.

“Nathan Phillips. I know you’re avoiding me.”

His mood went from euphoric to crashing down to the depths of hell. He rolled his eyes behind his dark glasses. “And yet... here we are...”

Norma, the voice of Cassell College’s AI spoke through his headphones. “You haven’t attended a single class this semester...”

“You mispronounced year.”

“The professors are getting irritated...”

“Did you hack an online radio station just to talk to me? Norma... I’m flattered.”

“They’re willing to give you a chance if you complete an internship...”

“A chance to do... what exactly?” Nathan spread out his hands. “It needs to be better than listening to jazz on sunny afternoon, or it’s a no from me.”

Norma was silent for several seconds.

Nathan Phillips smirked. “Didn’t think so...”

“Cassell College has a main mission, to slay dragons. If you’re not here for that, what are you here for?” Norma asked.

Nathan opened his eyes behind his glasses. “I think you should be asking that question of all the other students going to class. Because I guarantee you that Dragonslaying isn’t it. I mean just think about it? How many students here really give a rat’s ass about saving the world from dragons? I’m serious. Answer the question.”

“The answers can vary but that doesn’t change the goal of the institution. This was plainly told to you when you enrolled.”

Nathan Phillips nodded his head. “Oh yeah, and I bought into it until I was Ranked C on me 3E exam. I don’t resonate worth a damn with dragons. I’m barely above the maintenance personnel in that regard.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a bag of marijuana. He rolled it in paper and lit it.

“Smoking is prohibited on school grounds.”

“I know. That’s why I’m doing it. So, what are you going to do? Kick me out? I listened to the enrollment lecture. You don’t kick out students. They get suspended or drop out and have their memories wiped. If you kick me out for this blunt, that will be my greatest accomplishment as a C rank.”

Norma made a noise and his eyes widened. “Did you just sigh? Wow, you are realistic. So... just out of curiosity, what is the mission?”

“If you’re not going to accept, there’s no point in telling you.” Norma replied.

“This conversation is over then? It was just getting interesting. Oh well. But if you want to know the answer to your question of why I’m here... you should ask my parents.” He blew out a purple haze into the sky. “They’re the ones who sent me here. They scrimped and saved to send me here. They could have bought me a house. Two houses. A nice car. All that. But no, they sent me here. Just so they could say they had a son go to Cassell. That’s it. To prove their bloodlines weren’t trash. But they were wrong... they are trash.”

“That’s all I’m here for, Norma. I’m here to be here. That’s where my obligations end. I’ll stay here until the money runs out. Enjoy myself. And then when the money runs out, I’ll drop and have my memory wiped. Go on with my life. And...” He paused to draw on the blunt. “I will have a life. Some star dragonslayer will save the world from dragons while I’m having the time of my life, on the bench, smoking Mary Jane. Do you have any objections?”

Norma was silent for several seconds. “None. I’ll return you to your jazz.”

John Coltrane returned to his ears and Nathan Phillips smiled to himself and relaxed into the buzz in his brain. There was nothing wrong with a pointless life.

If he learned anything from Cassell, it was this.

He pulled out a notebook and opened it. Inside were all sorts of fantasies of what he would like to be told on dropping out. It wasn’t enough to just erase someone’s memories. New memories would have to replace them to explain the missing years. It could be literally anything.

Maybe he was someone who witnessed a mob hit and was living undercover in the witness protection program. Or maybe he was a secret agent in a UFO division and he’d be kidnapped off world by aliens. He always came up with his best work when he was high as a kite. This time, he was an aspiring artist on the run from a brutal dictator and taking refuge in Chicago. He wrote down the scenario quickly before he forgot it.

All the other students were in class, except for him, sitting on the bench writing down about how his paintings were renowned all over the world until a brutal dictator... which dictator? “Uh... Geez I don’t know.”

The sound of heels clicking on the pavement caught his attention. He turned bleary eyed to the vision of a girl walking up to him, arms swinging, eyes narrowed. He’d seen her before but couldn’t remember where. She overshadowed him and looked up. Her head blocked out the sun and he couldn’t see her face. “Um... shouldn’t you be in class?”

“Uh, no! No class! I was supposed to be on assignment but my PARTNER is a lazy ass who won’t show up.” She growled.

Nathan lifted his sunglasses over red rimmed eyes. She was Asian but tall, only an inch from 6 feet. Her muscles nearly popped from her school uniform. He wasn’t sure if it was the weed messing with his head but he was pretty sure this woman could benchpress more than he weighed. “Well... that sucks.”

“Yeah, it does!” She bent over until her face was an inch from his, blinking with wide indignant eyes. “You shouldn’t be allowed to to bring down the grades of other students! I didn’t come here to be brought down by you!”

“Me?”

“Yes! You! My partner!”

“Wait... you’re... Oh right! You’re Hana... Hana...” He snapped his fingers.

“Sato, Hana Sato and don’t snap your fingers at me or I’ll snap them off!” She grabbed his wrist.

“Right... the A ranked girl.” He lowered his glasses back over his eyes. “Well, this wasn’t my decision to be your partner. You should blame the people at fault. It’s probably Norma. She’s the one who pinged me earlier about it. Tell her to get a new partner for you. Should take a hot minute.”

Hana scowled at him. “If I could have anyone else for a partner I would. But I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because they all suck! They’re all terrible! All they want to do is talk about boys and parties and stupid things like that! I can’t stand those people!”

“I’m not any better. Just do the mission by yourself.” He pulled his hand out of her grip.

“I can’t. They already said its a two person mission.”

Nathan gave an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. “Pay someone.”

“They said it had to be you.” She sat next to him on the bench.

Nathan snorted and started laughing. “Wow. They are really desperate.”

“I’m glad you think bringing down my whole year is funny.” Her cheeks were red and her eyes were narrowed with frustration and anger.

“I’m not bringing down your year! I’m laughing because they want me to care so bad that they’d send this super powerful, gorgeous girl and chain her to me and expect me to do something. It’s like they all got together and said ‘Ha! A pretty girl, now he’ll give a shit.’” He laughed loud. Marijuana always made him giggly. “They’re the evil ones. If you care about your grade... then all I can tell you is stop caring.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re a C-rank. You don’t have anything to lose.”

“Just... find another partner.” Nathan said, staring at her. He wondered why she was still here.

She sighed, looking away from him, her ponytail falling over her shoulder. “I can’t. No one will work with me. I kind of... got put on a hit list after I punched the lead dancer of the White Skirt’s Club and knocked her out right before a performance.”

“Pics or it didn’t happen.”

Much to his shock she pulled out her phone and showed a picture. It wasn’t taken by her, but by another student as proof that Hana had ruined the Student Union performance.

“Heh. Sorry I missed it.”

Hana closed the app. “I didn’t think it was a big deal. She had an understudy but... uh... yeah, I was blacklisted after that. I don't’ care. I work fine on my own. But now they insisted we be partners and I literally have no alternative.”

“Hey...”

She looked down at him. “What?”

“You always have the choice to do nothing. I haven’t done a thing since I got here.” He laid back on the bench as though to demonstrate. “Feel free to join me.”

#Dragon Raja

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breadcaaat · 4 years

Text

part seven

jeongguk x hybrid!reader

words: 2.5k

Warnings: mentions of rape and revenge porn

“I wasn’t born in Seoul. I’ve actually only lived here for a couple of years.”

“Where were you born?”

“Busan.”

She nodded, as if she knew where that was. He bypassed explaining Korean geography and continued.

“Anyway, I came here for college three years ago with Da Eunae - my high school girlfriend. She was studying to become a teacher and I wanted to get into videography… ” He picked at his fingernails. Move on, he thought. It was a bittersweet subject. He had little to no possibility of pursuing that career now. “Anyway, about half-way through my freshman year - I’d just been meeting all sorts of new people, you know, and I realized that I didn’t really love my girlfriend anymore, so I broke up with her. I wanted to explore, and she was too possessive. Like - if I talked to anyone female she was immediately suspicious, but she wouldn’t outright accuse me, if that makes any sense. She’d just give me the cold shoulder, but also be super - super clingy at the same time. I mean - clingy isn’t bad, though! It was just the wrong type and so…” Move on, move on.

“Right, I explored. There was stuff I was curious about - different scenes and people and stuff - and I’d also been questioning my sexuality for a while at that point and decided to just kinda… put myself out there. Had a whole new friend group in two months and they were awesome. That’s actually when I met Hobi-hyung. There was a dance workshop second semester, and he was in his senior year so he introduced me to a lot of people. Everyone likes Hobi.”

“Is this the one you went out for drinks with?”

“Yeah.”

She nodded, and he felt himself relaxing a bit. Freshman year had honestly been great, even with the angst of letting his old girlfriend go. It’d been a relief, with time.

“During the summer after, I did a photography internship with a local journal and spent some time back in Busan - pretty uneventful. Fun, though. And at some point I decided to really,” he cleared his throat, and the tips of his ears dusted pink, “explore, and I started… sleeping around.”

Y/N nodded, chin propped on his shoulder. She seemed unperturbed.

“Boys and girls,” he clarified. If he was expecting a reaction he didn’t get one - besides a little cock to her eyebrow as if asking And?

He couldn’t help but prod. “That’s not weird?”

She shook her head. He seemed hesitant to let it go though, so she clarified. “My lover in the cages likes boys and girls, too. I’ve slept with other women. Thought it was normal. If you wanna have sex with someone then… you wanna have sex with them, and that’s it.” A small pause, and a little furrow appeared between her eyebrows. “Is it weird?”

Jeongguk hadn’t stopped processing the first statement yet. “You had a lover?”

She nodded, looking a little puzzled now. The spotlight was supposed to be on him, not her. “Yeah; an ex-stripper.We shared a cage and were pretty tight…” Then she shook her head, focusing back on the subject at hand, “I’ll tell you about him later, though. I still don’t know what - this was all about.”

He nodded and cleared his throat. Right, yeah. He’d pursue that line of questioning later.

But, honestly… he’s still not sure what happens next in the story. The effect on him, yeah. The result, sure. But the cause?

He still has no clue.

“And then, I dunno.”

“You don’t know?” She seemed thoroughly confused as to the connection between this history and his anguish about it.

He sighed, heavily.

“I don’t know. I started sophomore year, and then suddenly there was this huge following online where people posted… videos and stuff. Of me having, um, sex. I didn’t even know videos had been taken. And most of the videos were with the men I’d slept with. They got posted to this porn website and a couple people from the college got ahold of them and they circulated - and then that was that.”

He was silent for a second. The turbulence of his confusion then affected him even now. When he next spoke, it was quieter.

“The only people that stuck around were Hoseok and Eunae. I think my friends couldn’t look at me without seeing what they saw in the videos, you know? I don’t… blame them. It’s weird.”

She was silent for a minute.

Then she got huffy.

“I do. And fuck your ex, dude.”

Finally, he turned around. “What?”

“I know my hearing is better than yours but you can’t have that shitty a sense of - ”

“No, what do you mean by what you said?”

“I meant to say fuck your ex, she sucks.”

There was a long moment where she looked at him expectantly. Like whatever connection she’d made was obvious.

He gave her a look.

“… You really don’t see it, huh?”

He shook his head.

The deep inhale she took he could then feel against his back, and the two of them swayed with it. It was heavy. She was preparing to say something just as heavy.

The breath came out in a rush. Her head tipped forward and tapped his shoulder. Mutedly, he noticed how soft her hair had become. It cheered him up a little.

“When - when you get turned into - into… a hybrid. Like me, um…”

The stutter was something he hadn’t heard in a while. He watched in surprise as her ears folded back against her head, as she curled in on herself - almost hiding behind him. It was her turn to avoid eye contact now. It made him apprehensive, but he was focused on her more now than he had been all day.

“Go on,” he murmured. She nodded against his shoulder.

“The way it works is you get, um, commissioned. Somehow, before it all, you catch someone’s eye - someone with money - and they get in contact with Sheepdog, and then they commission you. They describe what animal they want you to be, and look like, and act like, and how they want you trained and… you lose everything.”

Her voice was so quiet. He felt like the whole world was contained in just this flat.

“They take your memory, and they keep taking it - I don’t know how; they don’t tell us. But the lab is where you feel like you’re born. I really don’t know how to describe what it’s like being - being born as an adult, but… that’s how it is, and you’re sensitive and vulnerable and everything hurts. You want someone to take care of you and coddle you and protect you and - and touch you, so badly it physically hurts. Right in your chest. It’s like a, a twist. But there’s no one, and every time you reach out for comfort it’s denied. It hurts every time. It never stops hurting.”

As tender as he could manage, his fingers wound into hers where they were still kneading at his hoodie strings. She relaxed a little.

“And then your owner comes. They throw open the door and sweep you away to a place where there’s food and luxury and nice clothes, and they act so nice and they - they touch you. They worm their way under your skin while you’re still like that - all, all innocent and scared - and they seem like saviors. You think that everything will be better and that it’s so good you’ve left that dark, scary place, but ultimately…”

She scrounges up the courage to look him in the eyes then.

And for the first time since they’ve met, it really hits him just how scary her life has been. He understood that it was dangerous, but not scary. Not like the dark is to a child.

“Ultimately, your owner put you there.”

She finishes, and seems to hold her breath. She’s looking for that click behind his eyes. He has to see the connection now. She hopes he does, and that he sees how he’s been wronged. That he spots the parallel.

And really, he doesn’t get it - until he very suddenly he does.

The click she was looking for happens, and he feels sick. The few bites of ramen he had were craving a return to the open air.

It was no secret Eunae wanted him back. And no secret that she was competitive - it was one of the things he thought was attractive about her in the beginning, because he is too, and also one of the qualities that eventually drove him away. After he dumped her, she must’ve felt like she’d lost somehow. And - lemon juice in the wound - to men. She’d always had a problem with that, too. Boys kissing boys and girls kissing girls. She’d always said it was gross. He never bothered to correct her.

So, it was plausible.

It was plausible that she’d wanted him back so bad that she’d engineered a “dark place” - paid off or convinced or whatever’ed some of his partners into filming him when he wasn’t aware, and then got her hands on those videos and posted them. The result: he lost his friends. And she made a now obviously convenient return into his life, open-armed and honey-tongued.

Ultimately, she put you there.

A new flavor of bile.

It’s bitter. Tinged with some emotion he can’t quite place. Something primal and angry and feral. He’s lost so much because of some girl’s - what, pride? Jealousy? He lost basically everything because of an ex?

But take a step back. She may also… not have. He might still be the unlucky victim of some - admittedly - very coordinated bullies.

And when it came down to it, it never mattered who did this to him. The result would still be the same no matter where the blame lies. He still lost everything. He lost his friends, and his college, and his career… his family. They left him, too -

“You’re crying.”

A finger brushes his cheekbone, wicking the water away. He’d been so in his own head for the past few minutes he hadn’t realized.

“There’s more?” she guessed.

He sighed and scrubbed at his eyes with too-scratchy sleeves. “Yeah. Yeah, there - ” his voice cracked, so he cleared his throat and went on, “ - there is.”

“Tell me.” Gentle. Firm.

Another long, too-long pause.

“One of my professors saw my videos.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, but - he didn’t, like…” Another sigh, this one frustrated. “It hadn’t reached my family yet, so he blackmailed me.”

He didn’t elaborate further. Whatever it was seemed more painful than the rest.

She prodded anyway. “Into?”

“Into letting him fuck me.”

She blinked.

“He just… really liked what he saw in those videos, I guess. And someone got a picture! And it got into the news and then the school ousted me and then - !“

“Breathe,” she reminded him. More tears were budding at his lash line, and she wiped them gently away. They spilled and rolled over his cheekbones.

He sucked in a breath, then continued. It was like he’d opened the floodgates. Now he had to get everything out or he felt like he’d die. “And then my family learned about it anyway. My parents were never rich. We were relying on my uncle - he’s got a lot more money - to help me out financially. I was already on thin ice before for my major. And then it came out that I was - I was fucking guys and getting fucked by guys and sleeping with my professors and coaches and whatever the fuck else and that support was yanked out from under my feet like a rug. And then I had no job, so I was completely broke, and then I broke the phone I had and… “

“And?”

“And I’d never memorized my parents’ numbers. And they don’t know how to use the internet well, even when they have access, which they usually don’t. So I haven’t talked to them in…” He used to keep count of the weeks; he used to remember. It hurt to, though. He’d stopped.

“… In a long time. And that’s all. That’s my fucking - sob story, so, uh, take it or leave it I guess.”

She doesn’t speak for another long, long minute.

“Does talking about this at least feel any better?” she whispers.

“I don’t know what to feel.”

So she grips him tight, leaning to the side so they both topple over into the pillows.

He’s not usually the little spoon.

… It feels nice.

“How would you feel?” he asks after a minute. The cuddling is soothing, and he’s feeling braver now.

“Hm?”

“Like, if all this happened to you and you were me, how should you feel?”

“Well, is this a would or should scenario?”

He chews on that for a second, before answering, “Would.”

“Angry.”

“Should?”

“Angry.”

He scoffs. “Don’t you lose the moral high ground, then? Anger is all… evil and stuff.”

“Bullshit. Anger is perfectly moral.”

She doesn’t explain further, but he’s curious now. Perhaps he does feel a little better.

“… How so?”

“Here, roll over.”

“Huh?”

She loses her patience very quickly, gripping him by the waist and rolling him over herself. They’re face to face now. His nose is almost touching hers, and it makes his breath catch in his throat.

(Her face is really pretty.)

“Anger is perfectly righteous, and you wanna know why?”

Suddenly feeling very shy, he just nods. But that’s a bad idea because it makes their noses brush and he can’t help but imagine a different flavor of the sleepy mornings they share. Mornings where instead of blanket tug-of-war and nipped ears there’s just the gentle press and slide of soft lips and -

She must sense he’s not completely there, reaching up to pat at his face. He needs to hear what she has to say. He deserves anger. He blinks.

“You deserve anger.” Good start. “You deserve it because - because you’re worth it. You - you’re worth something, and because of that, you deserve to feel anger over how you’ve been mistreated and stepped on because everything that’s been done to you is wrong. Any moral standard that doesn’t allow you anger doesn’t allow you to defend yourself.”

Her hand’s stayed on his face. She lets her thumb brush the reddened rim of his eye, hoping that her fingers are cool enough to help with the swelling. She doesn’t like seeing him cry.

“And I understand that you gotta fight for the ability to feel angry for yourself but I - I just… that’s why I would and should be angry, if I were you. You deserve that anger.”

The urge to close his eyes and lose himself to the weight of her palm on his cheek and the gentle brushing of her palm is a strong one, but he forces himself to keep them open and look at her.

“I’d get angry,” she repeats. Her voice is a whisper. “And I’m angry for you.”

He doesn’t know if he agrees with her; at least not at first. But he tries to take it in the context of her life. Anger is what she’s learned it to be, not what society has said it is. So to her, anger is a different entity.

To her, anger must be justice. It’s her drive for justice.

And he’s on board with that.

He’s angry.

A/N: of course, now that im seven chapters in, im starting to dislike the chapter style. im thinking of - when this is all finished - doing one last collective post with all the parts in one, so its just a ~40k beast

tag list: @feed-my-geek-soul @not-novoa @astronomyturtle @anoushe01 @seokchella @dinorahrodriguez @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @studiojoonie

tag list glitches: @infiressnct @starryannaaa

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litrojia · 3 years

Text

Personal Update

I think I ought to provide a personal update to all of you, just to vent all my thoughts somewhere and to explain my recent activity.

Personal Life

Like many of you, 2020 was not kind to me. While I fortunately haven't been directly impacted by COVID yet, the pandemic amplified some minor personal missteps to the point where I'm extremely anxious about my future.

I'm a college student, and I'll have a bachelor's in engineering in May. My GPA is phenomenal, but I fear that's all I have going for me. The thing that really matters are connections, as well as the early experiences that connections help with. I don't have that. I'm quite shy and never put myself out there to anybody in the industry or professors, nor do I come from a family of engineers who can get me a job through nepotism. Either it was too late when I realized that connections were at least as important as grades, or I willingly buried my head in the sand. By the time I was planning to sort myself out and put myself out there, COVID hit, putting an end to physical interaction and any shot at an internship last summer, which I was really counting on. More recently, I've all but canned some plans that I had for grad school. I don't feel like it's worth it in the position I'm in. Thus, I've jumped right into finding jobs, and it's tough. I imagine it's a mix of a bad economy and just not knowing how to do it since I've never been hired for a competitive position. I'm gonna need a lot of luck.

I know I'm not alone, but it weighs heavily on me. Sometimes it overwhelms me. When I think about it, I feel bad to do anything else to enjoy myself (especially art), but at the same time I feel defeated and discouraged from trying, so it becomes a vicious cycle.

Art

I fell off hard in the second half of last year. ATG last June burned me out. By the time I recovered from it, my computer broke. And by the time my computer was fixed and I was getting back into art again, the semester started. It wasn't even a particularly hard semester, but I just struggled with time management. This break between semesters (started a month ago, ending very soon) hasn't been too productive either. There's still lots that I want to do (OC development, learning to draw backgrounds once and for all, collabs, anthro, non-pony, just some good ol' canon ponies more than once every few months, reviving that kinky alt of mine I've mentioned here once, and probably more), but I just struggle to focus on it with the world weighing on my mind.

A few months ago, I opened commissions. If any of my commissioners are reading this, thank you again for buying one. I was a little disappointed with the demand I got for them, but I figure it was mostly because when I opened them and ever since, I've barely ever been drawing. I might not have been able to handle a lot of commissions anyways. For now though, commissions are closed, and I'm not sure when they'll open back up.

Online Relationships

I've been becoming more closed off online (and offline probably) over the past few months. Again, it has to do mostly with poor time management and stress. I treasure many of my past interactions, and I'd love to talk to more people online, but I just struggle to balance it all. If I've drifted away from you lately, it's not anything to do with you. Maybe I'll be able to get back out of my shell soon.

Twitter etc.

Twitter bothers me a lot. Actually, nearly all of the art sites bother me, but Twitter bothers me most. First of all, it's one of the greatest hotbeds of toxicity ever. Even outside of a strictly political sense (which needs no elaboration, but I must say makes me fear for the world's future), it still leads to all sorts of unwarranted harassment that isn't good for society. I'm looking at you, "Trixie is trans" folks. That drama, along with the Capitol stuff, is the straw that broke the camel's back for me. Secondly, it just isn't an art site. People use it because others use it and because it has porn. That's all. There's no organization on Twitter, and stuff just gets easily lost to time. And yet, some artists not only put up with Twitter, but can't get enough of it. They get caught up in trends that spam my feed. They get caught up by numbers. They use fleets, which is just the dumb corporate "stories" fad imported to Twitter, and doesn't even appear on desktop (which is both a blessing and a curse). Some call themselves "Twitter artists", letting it form their identity. But really, I can't blame these people, and if I described you, I don't mean to cause offense. The toxic hellhole of Twitter just shows no mercy in corrupting reasonable people. And the people who run Twitter love every single bit of it. Fuck Twitter.

I don't want to support Twitter, and I've been considering abandoning it, even if it means losing most of my following. I have a few artist friends who don't actively use Twitter and they live, though frankly they have less of a following, so there's less pressure there. However, the main reason I stick around is because so many artists only use Twitter, so that's where I can see their art. If I do leave it, an idea I've been considering is doing a raffle on all of my other sites. Not only would it encourage a few people to follow me on new sites, but maybe, just maybe it would encourage people to use sites other than Twitter. Still, I would need to either say goodbye to a lot of art or browse Twitter without actually using it (RSS? Keep the account to browse but not interact?).

It sucks though, because besides Twitter, where else is there? I've been getting more and more fed up with DeviantArt, my second most popular page, seemingly purposely killing their website. Tumblr is already dead, and if Pillowfort is supposed to be mimicking Tumblr, then it mimics Tumblr's inactivity best. I created a Newgrounds account recently and it actually seems pretty decent for art, but it too is dead. I've always been heavily active on Derpibooru, but that lacks the features of a full-fledged art site and has its own drama. As an aside, I actually joined staff there pretty recently. I understand that some people may not be happy with that site or its staff, and sometimes I'd agree with you, but it's been so incredibly valuable to me in exploring the pony fandom that I felt obligated to help it out, and I hope you can accept that. Anyways, Inkbunny looks like it'd be great if it weren't for all the... y'know. FurAffinity exists I guess. And Instagram is just Twitter but worse. I'll never touch it.

If you read everything up to here, or at least skimmed it thoroughly enough to understand, thank you.

#text #vent #not art #update

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echodrops · 4 years

Note

Hi! I'm kinda freaking out over how I'm going to manage everything when I start college. I'm kinda on the fence about whether or not I should inform my professors right off the bat about my mental health issues/ if that would even be helpful? I struggle a lot with depression and anxiety so my grades kinda weren't the best, I got lucky that I test really well so my SAT scores were high. I hope I'm not over stepping anything, but sense you're a professor yourself I thought it wouldn't hurt to try.

Phew! First, take a big deep breath, because I totally agree that starting college can be super overwhelming, but I know you can do it and I’m cheering for you!

First I just want to say that, while I can give my own answer to this question, I can’t guarantee every professor you meet will view this situation the exact same way as I will--professors are people and run the gamut from super supportive and kind to, unfortunately(!!), very unkind towards students. I recommend waiting until after your first or second class with each professor before speaking with them about personal topics--give yourself a day or two to get a feel for them and how they might respond, and hopefully you’ll be able to quickly spot the ones who won’t be supportive and that’s when you change classes ASAP and I’m only partly kidding.

Now, on to the actual answer to this question:

Yes, I definitely think you should inform your professors about your concerns and how your mental health might affect your ability in each class; however, there are actually a couple steps I’d take first to both protect yourself and increase your chances of success at college.

1) Before speaking to your professors, get in contact with your college’s Disabilities, Accessibility, or Counseling Office. The name of this office will vary by college, but most will use one of those first two words in their name, or will be named Counseling and Psychological Services (CAPS). Even if you contact the wrong office, they can always transfer you. Most colleges offer counseling to their students for free, which can be an incredibly helpful resource when you reach midterm exams and really get hit with that feeling of being in over your head! You want to have this office on speed dial for those days where you get out of class and just want to cry because the work is piling up. Those days happen to everyone, unfortunately, and knowing in advance where on campus you can go to get help is vital.

However, even more important than the direct counseling is the powerful tool in this office’s arsenal called “Accommodations.” By law, to protect students from unreasonable demands from professors, students with documented physical or mental health disabilities are eligible for special accommodations to make completing their classes more manageable. These accommodations vary by student, but they often include things like extra time to complete quizzes and exams, permission to deliver oral presentations in private instead of in front of a class, access to a private, quiet room to complete work, or a dedicated note-taker to assist you with note-taking in class.

When a student qualifies for accommodations, each one of the student’s professors receives a contract they have to sign, and the professors will be legally bound to honor the accommodations listed on the contract. You can probably see how it would be useful to have this contract in advance when you go to talk to a professor about your mental health concerns--that way, even if you encounter a professor who isn’t super supportive, they will be legally obligated to make the class easier for you to manage. Going through the disabilities office protects you and ensures you getting access to all the great resources your university has for people with mental health challenges!

2) Next, make sure you know about all the tutoring and homework support your university offers. Many schools have a wide range of services designed specifically to help students get through difficult classes; if you’re able to complete your school work easily and keep your grades up, college will be much less stressful and anxiety-inducing. Most colleges offer math, science, and writing labs where you can meet with dedicated peer tutors to review your work and go over hard concepts; many schools also have research librarians who can help you find sources for essays or reports, career services offices to help connect you with opportunities like internships or volunteering that will really build out your resume, private study rooms you can rent to get work done, technology like laptops and cameras you can rent for assignments, and even offices that arrange events specifically to help keep students feeling mentally fit--one office at my old campus used to bring puppies for students to play with during finals week!

Before speaking to your professors, take the time to familiarize yourself with the resources your school offers, and even though it might be scary at first, ease yourself into the idea of using these services. You will have an infinitely, INFINITELY easier time in college if you really take advantage of every single tool the school is offering you--student tuition goes to cover these services, so you should definitely use them. You can rid yourself of a lot of the anxiety related to homework and understanding class concepts by regularly visiting the free campus tutors.

3) Finally, speak to your professors--but come with questions already planned! Most--again, unfortunately I can’t speak for all professors, but--most professors will be more than willing to work with you and will be understanding of your mental health concerns if you alert them in advance. When students disappear for half the semester with no warning and then come back in the last week of class begging for make-up work because they were too depressed to come to class, that oftentimes comes across as making excuses, rather than being genuine. But if you let your professors know at the beginning of the semester that you’re new to college and concerned about your ability to succeed, your professors should be willing to accommodate your needs and help you throughout the semester.

The best way to secure a professor’s cooperation is to show that you’re dedicated to doing your best and that you want to fully understand their class expectations. In turn, the best way to show this dedication to ask some specific questions and try to formulate a plan with your professor.

After you explain your mental health concerns, some questions you might want to consider asking would be:

1) If my anxiety affects my ability to speak up in class, will I lose points? Are there ways I can contribute in class without being in the spotlight?

2) If my depression begins to affect my attendance, will there be chances to make up for absences? What are your policies for attendance in our class? If I am absent, should I come to you to ask what I missed, or should I ask another student in class?

3) If I’m struggling with assignments for our class, can I come to you for help with them? I noticed your office hours (on the syllabus, your office door, etc.) but I realized that none of your office hours fit my schedule. Are you available for appointments outside of your regular office hours?

4) I’ve already looked into the tutoring services at our school, but are there any other resources you’d recommend like useful websites, other books, or online tutoring that would help me learn the class material?

5) Do you have any advice for students who struggle with anxiety or depression when it comes to succeeding in your classes?

Aim to create a sort of plan with your professors--make sure you know how attendance will affect your grade, whether you need to prepare to be called on in class, what you should do if you’re struggling with the class assignments, and whether the professor will work with you if you begin to suffer from your mental health concerns during the semester.

This sort of response shows your professors that you’re motivated to succeed despite any additional challenges you might face, and encourages them to view you as a student who needs additional support, rather than someone just faking mental health issues to avoid work.

Most professors want every single one of their students to succeed and fully recognize that some students need accommodations and an understanding response in order to thrive at college. You can increase your chances of doing great (while also decreasing college anxiety), by mustering up the strength to grab hold of every single resource your school offers.

Sorry for the long answer, but I hope that helps!

#mental health issues #handling mental health and college #college anxiety #IRL stuff #echo answers asks #even though I've been a professor for years #I still sometimes forget that I am a professor #until someone asks me a question like this #and I'm like #Oh #that's right #I can actually answer this!!

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yoonjinkooked · 5 years

Text

lockdown | (m) - Chapter 1

moodboard by @flajka

pairing; jungkook/female OC genre; college au, strangers to lovers, smut and tiny bit of fluff too, humor ofc rating; explicit words; 4.900

— synopsis; Eunhee is in trouble and facing a deadline - in comes curly haired jungkook to save her life, make her laugh and maybe, just maybe, fuck her brains out. When the two end up locked in a building overnight, who knows what will happen?

warnings (for this chapter): cursing, OC really wants to murder Tae, banter, cute Kook, slightly cocky Kook, hints of sexual tension. Just an introduction chapter, really.

A/N: I hope you enjoy the first part guys. I am now starting to work on Chapter 2 and will let you know when I plan on posting it. Let me know what you think - I’m still a tumblr newbie and basically, I’m crappin my pants.

With that being said, let’s start chapter 1 :)

In the life of a journalism major, there are a few life-changing, stress-inducing moments that essentially serve as a preview of what’s to come if you do decide stay on your chosen career path.

For me, a handful of these moments made me question anything and everything I have ever known about the career I’ve chosen to pursue back when I was 18 and frankly, a little bit stupid. One of these moments was back when I was doing an obligatory internship at a small, local newspaper, only to realize that the editors and big shots there expected me to do nothing more than to make them coffee and copy papers in their stead.

Another moment was when I attended my first murder trial, which probably would end up being a part of my future job, only to spend the entire afternoon wondering if this really is something I want to do for the rest of my life.

And the final moment, at least the final one that I can think of right now, is currently occurring, with me losing my shit as we are trying to get the final edition of this year’s university magazine ready for printing. And I, as one of two co-editors, will be the one to blame if anything goes wrong.

Half of my grade depends on this. My future job prospects depend on this. Whether or not the professor is happy can influence the direction of my masters’ next year. This is ride or die for me and I am losing it.

“Namjoon, where the hell is he?” I ask my co-editor, best friend and partner in crime. Who also happens to be the only person on this planet who is well equipped to deal with me losing my shit.

“I know as much as you do,” he reminds me, moving the phone away from his ear. “I am trying to reach him now. You panicking will not do us any good and it definitely won’t make Taehyung answer me sooner. So don’t panic and focus on the things we already have here and work with that. The photos aren’t the only thing we need to look over before it’s ready for print.”

I nod my head franticly, knowing deep down that he has a point but also knowing that won’t help me at all. It never does because whenever I am chasing a deadline, I follow the same line of action. Work, panic, panic some more, work, panic like the world is ending, forcefully calm down and then, finally, get shit done. I am not sure if I am on the ‘panic some more’ or ‘panic like the world is ending’ phase yet but as I run fingers through my hair, letting my nerves get the best of me, I am positive said hair is gray.

I hear Namjoon cursing under his breath but for the sake of getting things done, I ignore him for now and simply focus on the task at hand – proofreading. As long as I preoccupy myself with tasks that need to be done, I cannot focus on the fact that Taehyung is late, like he always is, despite it being the one time he truly needed to be on time.

So for the next few minutes, I go over several articles in the speed of light, once, twice, three times. No matter how much they’re using spell-check, our reporters still make mistakes and honestly, when I see my name below one title, I know I am not allowed to judge because I obviously do it too.

Campus activity, student achievements, published works and former alumni ‘look, they’re famous now’ column – all covered and grammatically perfect. And Namjoon is still trying to reach the one man we need the most right now. Slowly but surely, the other students are becoming less frantic and more calm and casual, because their tasks are all but finished. Namjoon, Hoseok and I? Not so much.

“Okay, what the hell?” Hoseok throws his pen rather violently on his desk. “He does this every time. Every damn time. I’m the designer – I need to go over everything and make sure the photos are put where they belong. How can I do that if I don’t have said photos?”

“Hoseok, I know I’m not the textbook definition of calm but we need to try to be,” I tell him, turning my chair to face him over our connected desks. “Try to design it somehow, leaving the space for the photos. Vertical or horizontal, I will find good photos to fit. And if I have to change something, I will.”

“Are you sure you can do that?” he looks doubtful, which is extremely insulting, since we have known each other for three years and have been working together for more than two.

“Basic editing? Yeah, I can do that,” I roll my eyes. “If you doubt my editing skills, you can stick around till midnight to check on me.”

“No way,” he shakes his head. “It’s Jimin’s birthday party tonight and you know I need to be there.”

“Are you serious?” I ask, not even sure why, since it’s absolutely obvious that he is dead serious. “This is the most important edition we’re going to release. We’ve been doing this for years and this is our grand exit, which we need to execute perfectly, and you’re telling me you want to go to a party?”

“I’ll be going too,” Namjoon covers the speaker of his phone to tell me. “Sure, this edition is a big deal and we want it done well but most is already done and this isn’t our entire life.”

“Oh please,” I reach for something, anything, and end up hitting him on the chest with a block of post-its. “You’re just going because you hope to hook up with Hyejin, even though we all know you will just end up drunk, alone and watching her from a distance.”

“How dare you?” Namjoon is flabbergasted.

“She isn’t wrong,” Hoseok chuckles, ignoring the glare Namjoon throws his way. “But he’s right about this not being our entire life. You will burn out, Eunhee. It’s been two weeks and you haven’t stopped thinking about this once,” he tells me, as if I needed to be reminded. “This is the final edition with you being the editor. You should celebrate, not stay here after hours and pulling the hair of your head.”

“With the two of you playing beer pong and complaining about girls ignoring you, someone has to be the responsible one,” I point out. “All of this is riding on the three of us and you’re just… gonna dump me?” the betrayal is evident in my voice and yet, neither one of them is bothered enough to look guilty. Before they’re co-editor and designer, they’re just stupid, horny students.

“It’s already done Eunhee,” Namjoon rolls his eyes. “The one doing the dumping here is Taehyung and you just told Hoseok you can handle the editing. If you’re not sure, you can send him your final version and he can fix it if it needs to be fixed.”

“I am not leaving that party to fix Taehyung’s mess,” Hoseok cuts in.

“Our mess,” I remind him. “We have until 4AM to send it. So long as you’re not wasted out of your mind, it’s doable. If you even need to fix anything. Taehyung is always late but he also always brings more than enough material for us to work with. He’s a jackass but a talented jackass.”

“And a jackass who can’t answer his phone,” Namjoon adds, throwing his phone on the desk, before sighing as he slumps down onto his chair. “I’m going to regret that,” he glares at his phone.

“I can’t force you to stay here and help me,” I mumble, watching as the student reporters casually leave our office space, not even bothering to say goodbye because it’s the final week – who cares, life goes on, we’re going to see each other eventually and our portion of work is done. “I can, however, remind you of this in the years to come, guilt tripping you into doing favors. Many, many favors.”

“You make it sound like you’re not already doing that half the time,” Hoseok points out.

“Not my problem you somehow always end up owing me one. Or two. Or five,” I shrug as I turn towards my laptop, planning on searching for some stock photos we might be able to use, if Taehyung doesn’t show up. I know that he always does, last minute or not, but I can’t leave anything to chance. While stock photos would be a cop-out of sorts, we need to have a plan B.

The next two hours pass in almost complete silence. An occasionally sigh would leave Hoseok and every now and then, Namjoon would curse under his breath as he tries to reach Taehyung for what has to be the hundredth time – so far, to no avail. The panic I felt earlier had already left my system so I was able to focus on other things, all the while ignoring what seems to be our pending doom.

The sun had set and the lights are now on and that son of a bitch is still not answering his phone.

“You know, at this point I’m starting to wonder if we have better chances of finding him at Jimin’s party,” Hoseok breaks the silence. “I’m done with all the pages, I left enough space for all kinds of photos and there’s literally nothing more that we need to do.”

“Speak for yourself,” I mumble as I open the email he just sent me, showing the draft for the final version of the magazine. It looks as amazing as possible, seeing as 98% of photos are missing – instead, white blocks serve as breaks between long rows of text. “You know what? You two go. Go and have fun and if you find him, kick his ass. There’s no way he’d ever miss Jimin’s party. I’ll stay here and finish this up and when you send him to me, I’ll kick his ass too,” I tell them.

“Eunhee, are you sure?” Namjoon walks over to my desks and leans on it, giving me what I can only describe as a look of pure and utter pity. “I don’t want to leave you hanging; you’re not the only one with the responsibility here.”

Seeing as I am the only one that will sit Jimin’s birthday party out, I kind of am, but I do not say it. “It’s okay Joon,” I reassure him. “Go. Have fun. Try to get some with Hyejin. I’ll take care of this, it’s not like it’ll be the first time I pull an all-nighter. Just find that bastard and get those photos to me.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Hoseok stands up and throws a bag over his shoulder. “We will find him and I will do my best to stay sufficiently sober if you need my help. Which, if you do, don’t hesitate to call me, okay?” I nod, knowing I would rather fix it myself than have drunk Hoseok ruin it. He’s majestic with the editing software but when drunk, he can’t even walk straight, much less edit.

“Just make sure to get his USB to me, even if you have to kill him to make it happen,” I remind them. Namjoon is still worried but I roll my eyes at him, which apparently is the sign he needed to get his things and leave. I wave them out, surprisingly relieved to have the office for myself.

I am a decent team player but the last couple of years have shown me that I do my best work when I do it alone. Not to say that I take all the credit – hell no. Joon is the editor as much as I am and half the work is done by him but at times like these, I just want him out and away, busy with Hyejin. This way, if it’s a mess – it’s my mess. If it’s a work of art – it’s my work of art.

With a coffee in one hand and glasses of my head, I go over last year’s photo folder – that’s a better plan B than some basic stock photos. Some of the photos look like a decent backup – our campus hasn’t changed much over the last couple of months, after all. As long as I avoid last year’s seniors, I might be able to pull off plan B without anyone except a handful of us knowing the truth.

Even the swimming team – they have won gold last year, they have won gold this year too. The members are all the same, no new freshmen, no seniors last year. If my memory serves me well, all of them kept their natural hair colors and I can totally use said photo in this month’s edition. Sure, Jimin and the rest of the team will probably know what’s up but that’s nothing a round of beer can’t fix.

Look at me – such a professional. Bribing my way to get the work done. Yay.

In the midst of scrolling, I pause to glance at the clock – it’s almost ten and still no sign of Taehyung. Stifling down the pending panic, I take a deep breath and decide to play some music, hoping to distract myself more. While 80s rock has its charms, I still fidget as I scroll through folders upon folders, grabbing hold of my favorite koala mug again and downing the rest of the coffee in one go. Needing something to distract me further, I open the top drawer of my desk, grabbing the emergency M&Ms I’ve kept there for a few weeks now, knowing I was bound to pull an all-nighter sooner or later.

Just as I down a handful of candy, someone knocks on the office door and I nearly choke. I cough, make sure a lone M&M is not going to kill me, take a deep breath and shout a ‘come in’.

The little hope I have deflates as I realize it’s not Taehyung, the bastard himself – instead, it’s a guy I know, but not really. Tall, wavy brown hair, wide brown eyes and a slightly dumbfounded look, hidden under the hood of his black sweatshirt as he barely steps inside the office, still with one foot out as if he is ready to run.

I am positive I know him. I’m sure we have class together, or had the year before. Or perhaps we just have classes in the same building – I know I’ve seen him before, in the background, on the side, but for the life of me, I can’t put a face to the name.

“Can I help you?” I ask, once he doesn’t speak up for a few moments.

“Yeah,” he snaps out of his daze, tilting his head before reaching for his pocket – I keep my eye on his hands, half expecting him to draw a gun and shoot me in place. “Taehyung sent me to give you this,” he says as he pulls out a USB stick out of his pocket.

Finally, I can breathe. Finally, I know I will manage to get this done tonight. “Thank fuck,” I sigh, closing my eyes for a second before opening them up again and realizing I have just confused the shit out of him. “I was positive the jackass would leave me hanging. I would have murdered him in cold blood.”

“He’d never do that,” the guy smiles at me, a smile that evaporates as quickly as it appeared; making me wonder if I even imagined it. “If he had told me sooner, you wouldn’t have to wait. He texted me like 10 minutes ago, telling me that I need to bring this to the office.”

“He left the stick with you and didn’t tell you what it’s for?”

“No, he asked me to edit the photos,” he tells me. “Oh. You don’t… I’m the G.C.F guy. I’m the other photographer,” he explains and suddenly, the little boxes in my head fall into their designated place.

Taehyung had a photography partner. I’d say a solid half of the photos we’d print were Taehyung’s, and the others belong to the guy always signed as JJK, G.C. F; I have never met him, never asked for his name and before tonight, he had never showed up in the office.

And now I can remember the guy more clearly – he always had a camera, either hanging around his neck or covering his face as he would relentlessly take photos.

“Ah, now I get it,” I smile. “I’m Eunhee, the editor.”

“I know,” he tells me. “Jeongguk.”

Yep, I know the name. It’s all clicking now.

“Well don’t just stand there Jeongguk,” I tell him as I stand up; I walk around my desk and start Hoseok’s PC, knowing that he has a better editing software ready to go. “I’m going to need your help for this. Everyone else is getting shitfaced at Jimin’s so if you’re up for it, you’re going to be the one to help me get this edition ready by 4AM. You up for it?”

Honestly, I’m not particularly surprised when he doesn’t answer me straight away – it’s not like I’m offering him free food, drinks and a night he’ll remember – quite the opposite, I’m offering him a night full of work. Simply put, I’m begging him to help me, without actually openly begging.

“Sure,” I hear him shuffle around as he puts his backpack down on the ground. “Where do you need me?”

"Just get yourself a chair," I wave my hand around the room, staring at nothing as I try to figure out where should we start from. I suppose that from the beginning is the only real answer to that one. "Hobi had set it all up for me to finish but I think I need to see what you've brought me, see what i have to work with," I decide, turning to Jeongguk, just in time to see him drag Namjoon's desk chair from the corner of the office.

"All of them are edited and ready for use," he reassures me with a tight smile as he joins me behind the desk, a good foot between our chairs. Noticing that he still has his hood up and covering half of his face, I bite my tongue and decide not to wonder why - he has his reasons, I suppose.

"Then we just need to decide what goes where and that is where you come to my rescue."

"What makes you think that should be my call?" he asks, not bothering to hide his surprise.

"Well, you're a photographer," I announce, as if the guy is not aware of his profession. "Doesn't that officially make you a better judge when it comes to esthetic mumbo jumbo?" I ask, because I truly don’t know. I am not familiar with the job requirements a photographer needs to fulfill, other than to have a camera, of course. I simply imagine they have some sense of beautiful. Wouldn’t be the first time I was wrong about something and that is why I ask – there’s no shame in not knowing.

After a beat of silence Jeongguk looks at me, keeping direct eye contact for one whole second, which is time enough for me to conclude that he is cute, ridiculously so. Cute in a way that no man in his early 20s is allowed to be. Yet not cute enough to make me focus on him instead of the task before us.

"I guess so," he tilts his head as i force my jaw shut - now is not an appropriate moment for ogling. "Aren't you the boss lady though?"

"Boss lady," I test the nickname and roll my eyes. "Difficult to work with, perhaps. Bossy? Don’t think so. But I’m taking it because I obviously need your help tonight - I am good with words, not at making them look good on paper."

“What you need to do here is not that hard,” he waves at the monitor and I turn to look at him. “Deciding on which photo should go where depends on… the overall page. The colors, the neighboring photos and countless other things. There are no rules – just feeling. Photography is feeling,” he waves his hands about as he talks, completely immersed in his explanation and making me wonder if he’s talking about this particular problem or just photography and its misconceptions in general.

“No rules?” I ask through a chuckle. “That’s not what people told me when I took a selfie from a downward angle.”

To my shock and frankly, shame, he stares at me in silence, blinking once, twice, three times. I gulp. “That was supposed to be a joke,” I elaborate in a low voice, as I hope that the ground will split in two and just swallow me into a never-ending dark hole. Or that Hobi’s PC will finally be usable.

“Oh. Okay.”

Well, this settles it then – absolutely no possibility of mild, harmless flirtation. That flat-lined reaction will end up being a source of trauma for me in the years to come – I just know I will end up awake at 3AM in like five years, thinking of how awkward this particular moment was.

“Finally,” I feel relieved now that I can actually work with Hobi’s PC – I slide the flash in, on the first go. I nearly celebrate the seemingly impossible victory but I decide to hold myself back. If Jeongguk can’t take a joke, he will probably think I am insane if I behave like I normally would. “Now let’s see what we have here,” I mumble, opening the pop up. One folder named 1 – I open it. I click on the first photo, of a group of students sitting on grass and talking (looks absolutely staged but based on what I know about Taehyung and his G.C.F partner, they don’t roll that way). I smile when I see a photo of our swimming team huddled up together, gold medals hanging around their necks – I won’t have to use last year’s photos after all. “These are really good. Perfectly edited too. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, it’s my job,” Jeongguk mumbles as he eyes the photos I scroll through. I can no longer tell if he’s serious or joking and I simply give it up altogether – who cares?

“This will fit perfectly,” I mumble as I finish going through the bunch of photos and end up on the first one – the one with a bunch of people that looks absolutely staged. I exit and go back to the folder, then back to the original one. It’s as if I could feel, actually physically feel, my heart slowly sliding down inside of my body. I go back and open the folder again, looking as the fear slowly grows in me. “Jeongguk, where are the other photos?” I somehow manage to utter.

“They’re all there,” he tells me, his eyes going wide when he notices the look of pure and utter horror on my face. “Taehyung told me you need 20 photos, no more, no less. There are 24, I added 4 more just in case, if you didn’t like some of them… Eunhee, what is going on?”

My chest goes up and down frantically as I try to calm the whole tornado of emotions that starts within me. Panic, worry, sadness and more than anything else, anger. Pure anger. “I will murder him.”

“What? Who will you… Taehyung?”

“I said,” I slowly speak, pausing for deep breaths. “200 photos. 200 photos, no more, no less. 200 from which we would end up using more than 100. I said 200, not 20.”

“Oh shit.”

“Yeah, oh shit.”

“What… where are you going?” Jeongguk asks as I jump off my chair and nearly fly over the desk to grab my handbag. I throw my phone inside of it and turn to look at him, only to find him flinching away from me. Apparently, I look as angry as I feel.

“I am going to Jimin’s birthday party,” I announce. “Where I will grab Kim Taehyung by the neck, drag him outside, throw him onto the ground and murder him in front of the entire student body. I’m thinking strangulation is the way to go. You should come too, take a few photos of it for the delayed magazine edition.”

“No!” Jeongguk snaps but I am already heading towards the door. His hand wraps around my wrist and he drags me back towards the desk.

“What?”

I don’t know what else to say because why the hell did he pull me like that?! I wasn’t actually going to murder Taehyung, no matter how much I might want to do so.

Jeongguk rolls his eyes at me and I feel even more stupid than he made me feel minutes ago. The nerve. “If you go there and yell at Taehyung, or even kill him in cold blood, you’re just going to end up wasting valuable time,” he tells me. Okay, true, I can’t argue with him on that one. “Not to mention that you won’t get the photos. He doesn’t have them on him at all times and even if he did, they aren’t edited.”

“So what you’re trying to tell me is that I am fucked? Like, missionary, sideways, in the ass fucked?”

“I wouldn’t choose that particular wording, but yes,” he sighs. “If you stay here, you’re not fucked. Just… follow me. It’ll make sense soon,” he seems impatient as he grabs hold of my wrist again and this time, he drags me out the door. I actually stumble to keep up with him, too confused to even ask him what the flying fuck he is doing and where the hell we’re going. He walks fast and with him dragging me behind him, I have no choice but to break into a light jog to keep my arm attached to my body.

Down the hallway and to the left, Jeongguk drags me towards the last door, in front of which he finally stops. He starts fidgeting and feeling himself up and down. It takes me a moment to realize that he is looking for the keys. “What are we doing here, what is this place?”

“This,” he unlocks the door and smiles at me mischievously. “Is my office.”

As soon as he turns on the light, it all makes perfect sense – it’s a darkroom. A darkroom which I had no idea existed, even though I have spent a bigger part of my college education just down the hallway. “Don’t just stand there, come on in,” Jeongguk urges me but I do not move. The hood that still covers half of his face, paired with the room’s red light, is making him look pretty ominous.

“No thanks, these places are as creepy as they seem in movies.”

Jeongguk laughs and shakes his head. “They’re not creepy. Suit yourself.”

“What the hell are we doing here?” I ask, feeling my earlier agitation return. Fix the mess then kill Taehyung. Stopping by a darkroom was not on my to-do list. “How the hell can this help?”

“As I said, this is my office,” he tells me and I see him rummaging through the top drawer in one of the desks that are lined up against a wall. “I keep my work here. Some, not all. Useless work mostly. Random campus photos I take just because I think the moment is worth capturing.”

“While that is very poetic and deep, how the heck can that help us now?”

“Haven’t I just said I take random campus photos?” he asks in annoyance. “I have at least one flash drive with random photos like the ones you might need. I’m a good photographer and,” he waves his hand and I notice something black in it – he walks over to me, takes my hand and puts the flash into it. “I’m the one who will make your words look good on paper.”

It’s not what he said – it’s the way he said it. For the first time tonight, his hood did not block my view of his entire face. The way his eyebrows lifted, followed by a smug smile and head tilt, my heart went into overdrive. His expression and the fact that he is a solid foot taller than I am makes it so easy for me to feel tiny, irrelevant, overpowered.

Despite being the talkative one of the duo, I am speechless for a moment because good lord, does he look hot right now. Like… please slam me against the wall and leave hickeys down my neck hot.

“Come on boss lady,” he laughs down at me. “Work awaits.”

What the fuck happened to the shy guy who couldn’t keep eye contact for longer than a second?! He is giving me whiplash! I again have to run to catch up with him but I do it without complaining, realizing that for tonight, he is my lifeline. This random dude who’s good at photography is my only hope.

Tonight’s going to be a very long night.

#jungkook smut #jungkook series #jungkook fanfiction #bts smut #bts jungkook #bts #bangtan #bangtan smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfics #jjk #jeongguk #jeongguk smut #jeon jeongguk #jeon jungkook

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safflowerseason · 5 years

Text

dan x amy college au drabble

i’ve had this little scene chasing itself in my head for a while, and getting it out was my form of stress-relief tonight. enjoy xx

summary if it were a real fic: dan and amy meet for the first time when he hooks up with her roommate.

~*~

“Rise and shine, frat-ass.”

Through a haze of sleep, Dan perceives one thing: something poking his shoulder repeatedly. And sharply. He ignores it, in the hope that it will go away.

It doesn’t go away.

“Come on, you fucking braindead assortment of malfunctioning pheromones, wake the fuck up. I need my room back, so I can begin to sanitize it.”

The poking continues. Dan wakes up just enough to roll over and grit out, “Jesus, get the fuck away, I’m getting up!”

He pushes himself up on his elbows and bats away at whatever’s poking him. His hand closes around smooth, warm, skin. Whatever is poking him is female. Dan opens his eyes.

The girl he is face to face with is most definitely not the girl he fucked last night. He does not remember a fucking enormous pair of blue eyes, and a sheet of princess-blonde hair. He does not remember those curves underneath his hands.

They stare at each other for a second—their hands still loosely entangled—before the girl narrows those eyes at him and yanks her wrist away. Dan immediately scrambles to a sitting position, his back against the wall of the dorm room. Hastily checks to make sure the sheets are covering him.

“Uh…hi.” he begins, awkwardly, and runs a hand through his hair. Fuck, he needs a mirror.

“…where is…?” Shit, he’s blanking on the name. Her dad was on the Board of Trustees. He remembered that much.

“Wow.” Blonde-girl laughs derisively. “The poor girl who faked an orgasm for you last night…her name is Alice. And her sex window is over, so I don’t know what the fuck you're still doing here.”

“Hey, she didn’t fake it.” Dan snaps automatically, not that he cared that much either way. Her father was a trustee, but it didn’t make Alice particularly exciting. Their encounter was definitely not worth putting up with her fucking manic roommate. Jesus.

“Oh, I’m sure she didn’t.” the girl rolls her eyes. She’s coming into better focus now that Dan is more awake, and to his profound exasperation, she’s way hotter than Alice. Shorter—they’re basically eye-to-eye with him seated on the bed—but striking, with those massive eyes and a rosebud mouth. Her tits look very good in an aggressively simple navy blue sundress, the thin material clinging to her curves in a way that’s probably not intended to be enticing but totally, totally is. Fuck, he needs some coffee. Or a shot.

“…are you…are you checking me out?” she asks, sounding a bit stunned, and Dan realizes belatedly he’s basically been staring at her for the past thirty seconds, not saying anything. (Then again…she didn’t stop him right away.) “Oh my god—you literally woke up in my roommate’s bed!”

“So? Did I fall down some fucking time hole and wake up in the fifties?!” he retorts, more annoyed at her than ever. Forget how kissable her mouth looks. This girl has to be the most fucking infuriating person he’s ever encountered this early in the morning and he lives in a frat house. “What are you even doing here in the first place? Don’t the two of you have some sort of system?”

“She told me she had a volleyball game. I didn’t know she accidentally left a souvenir behind.”

“Well,” Dan snarks, “You’re going to have to give me a few minutes, babe, and I’m going to need some coffee first, but don’t worry, you can have your turn if you want.”

She looks truly enraged. “Get. the. fuck. out. now.”

“I can’t.” Dan retorts, as insolently as possible. “You’re standing on my pants.”

“Ugh.” the girl groans, looking revolted, and flounces toward the door. “You have two minutes to make yourself presentable.”

Dan gives her the finger, a gesture she returns in a move that’s so unexpected for a girl he almost chokes on his own surprise, and then she slams the door angrily behind her, leaving him (finally) alone.

He jumps out of bed hastily and the first thing he does is check his reflection in the nearest mirror. (It’s workable. His hair miraculously still looks purposefully tousled, and his freckles aren’t standing out too much.) Fumbling into his jeans and shoes, he looks desperately around the room for some intel on whoever the fuck this girl is.

Her side of the room is obsessively neat, and there are some boring prints of some lesser known impressionist paintings tacked up on the wall over her bed. Unlike Alice’s massive and messy collage of photos, there’s just a few framed pictures arranged on the bedside table. Dan doesn’t even have to guess which desk is hers—it’s the one overflowing with books and papers, even though class doesn’t start for two days. (And he steals a piece gum out of Alice’s desk, just to cover his bases. And borrows her deodorant. He may as well get something out of fucking her.)

Hanging on the back of the door, there’s a whiteboard covered in flowery curlicued scribble. Amy - SAE welcome back party. Come out!

Amy reenters the room just as Dan is tugging his shirt down over his chest and reading the old textbook titles that are stacked in her bookshelf. (What? He’s no rookie. She might be annoying but she’s too fucking cute for him not to try.)

“Stop looking at my stuff, you creep.” she says, crossly. “It’s a girl’s dorm room. Nothing you haven’t seen a hundred times before.”

“Yeah but not all of them had their very own library.” Dan replies, but in a distinctly nicer tone of voice. It was just a split-second, but he caught her glancing at his shoulders, and it’s enough for him to feel significantly more in control of the situation. “Did you leave any left for the rest of us?”

“I don’t imagine you come across many of those in the primordial ooze that makes up your frat house.”

Dan smiles at her, his most charming, devastating grin, because she clearly thinks he’s a braindead fraternity bro with nothing but a pretty face and he can’t wait to prove her wrong.

“I’m Dan.” he offers.

“I know.” Amy replies, and there’s a smug little tilt to her chin. “I figured out why you look so familiar. You’re that idiot who ran for GSA president as a freshman.”

Dan just smiles wider and takes a step toward her. “If you knew anything about politics, Amy, you would know sometimes people run just to come in second.”

He says her name with the intent to throw her off, since she still hasn’t introduced herself, but Amy just rolls her eyes. “I actually do know a thing or two about politics, and no one runs to lose like you did.”

Her voice is still impossibly dry, but the corner of her mouth lifts, just slightly, in a coy little smirk—pleased to have gotten the upper hand so neatly. Dan can’t even be too annoyed, partly because it’s a fucking sexy expression, and partly because…he has his own trump card to play.

“Well,” he says, in a very aw-shucks kind of voice, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I guess I’ll be learning a lot more in Professor Spellman’s American elections class.”

Amy looks flatteringly gobsmacked. “You are in Spellman’s History of the American Election course?”

“Yep.” Dan replies, smugly. History of the American Election is the capstone junior seminar for the political science major, and not just anyone can take it. It’s taught by the toughest professor on campus, who worked for two presidential administrations before “retiring” to teach. He only accepts twenty students per year, and you have to submit a portfolio of your previous work and endure a personal interview before he decides if you can take the class. Professor Spellman is old friends with the chair of the DCCC, and rumor has it if that if you impress him, he’ll land you a internship with the congressman of your choice after you graduate. A paid one, for that matter.

“…What’d you do, sleep with his TA?”

“Nice try, Amy.” Dan shakes his head at her for being so mean. “You know Professor Hardman doesn’t have a TA. I sat through the same fucking interview process you did.”

Amy doesn’t respond right away, just studies him like he’s a particular complicated theorem. Dan can see her instinctive respect for the professor battling with her low opinion of him, and something else glimmering in her massive eyes, something genuinely curious. Her face is incredibly transparent, and Dan can’t help it…it’s fucking intriguing about how open she is around him and yet also (maybe even because of it) so obviously guarded. He stares right back at her, long enough that she blushes a little and looks away, and immediately Dan decides that he and Amy Brookheimer are going to fuck, and they’re also going to ace the class. He could fucking do anything if she looks like that around him.

“Well…” Amy finally says, and sits primly down at her desk. “I guess I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

And that seems like an impossibly long time to wait.

Dan pulls out his phone—the usual endless string of text messages from friends and possible fuck buddies, nothing from April but he doesn’t care—and pretends to be studying it for a moment, as if he’s figuring out where to go. Amy, incredibly, based on the sounds coming from behind the wall of the desk, seems to be opening up her laptop to start working. On a Saturday.

When he’s certain she’s reasonably distracted, he peeks down at her over the edge of the desk. “Wanna get breakfast? The waffle bar will still be open.”

Amy glances up, and for the first time since she encountered him in her dorm room, she looks truly flustered.

“What?! I…what?”

“Breakfast. It’s what people eat in the mornings.”

She actually looks confused. “I…I ate already.”

“It’s nine thirty in the morning. What’d you eat?”

“I had a smoothie. On my way back from my boyfriend’s.”

A boyfriend? Dan clocks the information without any disappointment. Any boyfriend who’s letting Amy Brookheimer leave his place before noon on a Saturday is not a boyfriend he has to worry about. “Oooh.” he deadpans. “I think you can spare some space for waffles.”

Annoyance and intrigue are fighting across her face. “I…I have work to do.” she finally says, but she’s smiling helplessly, as if she knows she can’t resist him. “We have reading.”

“There are forty eight hours until class begins. Come on. I’ll share with you the intel I picked up on Spellman.”

“I already did some research on him.” Amy says, in a very know-it-all tone of voice that, weirdly, just makes Dan like her more. She plucks a blue file folder from a stack on her desk.

“Oh, excellent, Amy.” he says, and snatches the folder from her. “Waffles are on me.”

He darts for the door, and predictably, Amy leaps after him. “Dan! That’s mine!”

Dan doesn’t give her the folder back until they’re seated outside the dining hall with their food. Immediately, she smacks him upside the head with it and then steals half of his bacon. Dan lets her. It’s going to be a good year.

#veep fic #dan x amy #college au

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xantchaslegacy · 5 years

Text

MtG Month of the Ship Day 24 - College AU

(This one’s a bit rambling. I meant to focus on Ashnod/ Tawnos as a follow-up to the coffee shop AU, but some dinobots slipped in~

Also, as with the other AUs, Aminatou is here for continuity, NOT as part of a ship)

“Psssst, Duck!”

Tawnos turned just in time for a crumpled piece of paper to bounce off of his nose. A few of the other students laughed at his nonplussed reaction. Ashnod winced internally. She’d meant to hit him on the shoulder, but he was sitting six rows ahead of her…

Professor Pashiri cleared her throat. “If the lovebirds among us could possibly spare their attention for another few minutes, I would just love to finish this lesson.”

Ashnod blushed. Why did that Tawnos have to sit so close to the front of the class? And why hadn’t that nerd picked up her note?

He at least waited by his desk once Pashiri ended the lecture. Ashnod had fully collected herself by then, and plopped down in the seat behind him, doing her very best cool-girl sprawl.

“Are you free Saturday?”

“I’m helping Urza at the shop.” Tawnos turned around in his chair to talk to her directly. The auditorium seats were definitely not designed for that, and he looked adorably awkward trying to fit his leg along the back of the chair. “He wants to test out delivery drones for the Café, so I’ll be pretty busy.”

“Busy cleaning coffee off of your customers?”

“Probably.”

Ashnod leaned back and put her boots up on the back of Tawnos’ chair. “Drones, huh? Does that mean you aren’t coming to visit me at my internship anymore, Duck?”

“I, uh…I doubt Kayla will actually want to use them outside the store itself.” Tawnos was trying to meet her eyes, but kept glancing at the soles of Ashnod’s shoes. “But Xantcha is taking over deliveries for the weekends, so…yeah. I won’t be free most of the day.”

“So you’re free that night. Perfect.” Ashnod unfolded the piece of paper to reveal a rough design for a dragon construct. “I need your help for a robotics club project.”

“What sort of project?”

Ashnod grinned. “We just got a new budget approved by Dean Tocasia. She wants us to build an animatronic of the school mascot for commencement.”

“Oh, cool!” Tawnos frowned. “Wait, how are you going to do that in time? Isn’t that half a month away?”

“Yeah, that’s why I need help.” She nudged his shoulder with her boot. “Are you in?”

“What about your roommate? Doesn’t she do that professionally?”

“Saheeli? I already asked her.” Ashnod crossed her arms. “She’s said she was busy. Had to go to a poetry reading or something like that.”

“For half a month?”

Ashnod shrugged. “She’s got it bad for one of the English majors. Probably won’t be free until May.” Ashnod held up her fingers and started counting off. “Jhoira can only help until May, and then she’s going on a study trip. Teferi inexplicably has the time to help but doesn’t have nearly enough technical expertise. Professor Karn said he can provide us with any equipment we need, but that it’s supposed to be a student-work project only.”

“Ah.”

“I mean, everyone can help out a little though! If we pull this off she’ll double the club budget for next year and we can buy all sorts of cool stuff for our next project!”

Tawnos pursed his lips. “That does sound fun…but I need to study for Professor Mairsil’s test after work on Saturday. Need to get my grade up or I’ll lose my scholarship.” He shrugged. “Sorry Ash. Maybe the week after?”

“Yeah, sure.” Ashnod managed a smile. “Uh, good luck with the drones.”

“Thanks. I’ll stop by the club workshop after my shift with some coffee.” He hopped over the edge of his seat and pecked Ashnod on the forehead. “Text me if you want any pastries or anything.”

She poked Tawnos in the side. “All the pastries. Say high to Xantcha for me, Duck.”

** ** **

Ashnod threw herself on the bed as soon as she got back to her dorm, burying her face in a loose pile of blankets, sweaters, and disarrayed sheets. She let out a muffled groan into the pile.

"Rough day?" Saheeli called from the closet.

Ashnod turned her face to look at her roommate. "Frustrating." She frowned. "I thought your poetry thing wasn't until tomorrow.

"I-I want to have something nice picked out!" Saheeli flushed. "Besides, this might be for something else."

"Naaaaah." Ashnod grinned and sat up on the bed. "This is definitely preparation for preening. What are you gonna wear?"

Saheeli stepped sheepishly out of the closet and gave a small spin. She was wearing uncharacteristically dark colors: an olive button-up, black jeans, and a designer hoodie that zipped up in the front. The bohemian-ness of it all was loudly offset by the gold filigree up the front of her boots.

"Huh, well I don't actually know how poets dress but I guess that's close to what I would have imagined."

"Do I look good though?"

"You always look good, this is just...off-brand for you.” Ashnod's eyebrows shot up and a gleeful smile split her face. "Should I be asking who you're going to see?"

Saheeli mumbled something under her breath.

"Sorry, who now?"

Huatli!"

Ashmod blinked. "Waaaiiit, the girl who's always wearing those vaguely suggestive dinosaur t-shirts?"

"N-no!" Saheeli waved her hands in front of her chest. “I mean….well, maybe.”

Ashnod rubbed her chin. "Yeah...the one who came to your tech talk on the quad last week, right? She's definitely got her eye on you."

"Um…what?" Saheeli was turning redder and redder shades of brown.

"Please, she was all over you, and the talk clearly wasn't her thing."

"She's...she's just really friendly."

"Hmmm, let's see if we can make her even friendlier." Ashnod rolled off the bed and peeked into the closet. "Here." She grabbed another hoodie, this one a crisp white, and cinched it around Saheeli's waist, letting it drape down over her backside.

"Great, now I look like my mother," Saheeli muttered.

"No, this is good, you look cool." Ashnod stepped back to admire her work. Well, more of a her and Saheeli's mother collaboration. "Huatli seems like a rugged type. I'm sure she'll appreciate your, uh...toughness."

Saheeli turned, considering the look in the mirror. “You’re being very helpful. What’s troubling you?”

Ashnod frowned. “Well, it sure feels stupid to say, but boy stuff.” She leaned up against her bad and sank to her knees “I want to spend more time with Tawnos but he’s been super busy since Kayla hired him. Now I only ever see him in class or whenever he’s delivering donuts or coffee to the Brotherhood Labs.”

“Did you ask him about the mascot thing?”

“Yeah; there’s just not any time between the shop and studying.”

Saheeli closed the closet door and squatted down next to Ashnod. “You could do go do your studying at the shop? Maybe just make googly eyes at him? I don’t know exactly what someone would want to do with a boy.”

“Nah, the job is important to him. I don’t want to distract him.”

“Well, that just leaves studying then.”

Ashnod tilted her head up to appraise her roommate. Huatli would definitely be stuck on Saheeli after tomorrow night.

“You know, you might be on to something.”

** ** **

Ashnod arrived at the workshop the next afternoon with a sketch pad and a new set of charcoal to start schematics for the animatronic. She had settled herself at a desk and was halfway through designing the wing-joints when she heard a clatter from the storage closet.

“Tezzeret?” She stomped over to the door and pulled it open. “You better not be skulking around here again after last ti – oh….”

A small girl has sitting cross-legged in the middle of the storage space, playing with a glowing Powerstonetm battery. She was leaning up against a strange machine Ashnod did not recognize.

“Hey there, kiddo.” Ashnod loomed over the girl, hands, on her knees. “How’d you get in here?”

The girl smiled up at Ashnod. Her face was painted with several golden-brown butterflies. “I’m waiting for my friend. Are you waiting for someone?”

“Um…yeah, I guess so.” What is…Ashnod’s eyes went wide as she realized what the girl was sitting up against: a tall humanoid construct with several gun turrets where its head and shoulders should have been.

“Why…why don’t you come with me, kiddo.” Ashnod offered her hand. You can sit and draw with me until your friend gets here.”

The girl shrugged and took Ashnod’s hand. Ashnod gave her some spare sheets of paper and they sat together making drawings until late in the afternoon. The girl wouldn’t give Ashnod her name, but was otherwise very well behaved.

“What’s that you’re drawing?”

The girl held up a sheet of paper. She’d scrawled a surprisingly detailed figure of a tall, dark-skinned man in blue robes on it. “My friend Teferi! I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

“Oh…he said he’d be here before it got too late.” Ashnod looked at the clock. “I’ll call him.”

“That’s okay.” The girl went back to her drawing. “I’m having fun!”

** ** **

“Ashnod?”

Her head popped up off the desk, trailing a thin string of drool. Luckily she’d moved her completed sketches out of the way before passing out on the work table.

“Hnnn…Duck?”

Tawnos was there, smiling down at her, and smelling like the most wonderful thing in the world. Ashnod reached her hands out, and he placed a tall cup of coffee in it.

“Hmmmm, boyfriend and caffeine delivery. What a time to be alive.” She looked around the rest of the room with a frown. Where was the girl? Had she imagined her? Had Teferi come by to pick her up?

“Hello to you too.” He kissed her hair. “Those sketches look great…I might have some spare drone pieces that you could use for the struts.”

“Sounds like Urza’s project went well.”

“Yeah…” Tawnos lifted another sheet to inspect it and caught sight of the other papers underneath, with class numbers written across the top. “What, um…what’s this?”

“I…thought we could study a bit together.” Ashnod patted the spot next to her on the workbench. “I put together my notes for the etherium and watersilver unit and I thought…if you needed to spend the night studying…maybe you could use some company?’

Tawnos smiled, and slid his backpack off onto the ground.

“Sounds perfect. And I brought us some study fuel as well.” He set a huge sack of donuts, eclairs, and muffins down on the table between them. “Will that be enough, you think?”

Ashnod pulled him down into her lap and pecked his cheek.

“For now.”

The above is unofficial Fan Content permitted under the Fan Content Policy. Not approved/endorsed by Wizards. Portions of the materials used are property of Wizards of the Coast. ©Wizards of the Coast LLC.

#mtgship #mtg #MTG Flash Fan Fic #Ashnod #Tawnos #Aminatou #Xantcha #Saheeli #Huatli #dinobots

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chasholidays · 5 years

Note

Hey so I'm a stressed little science major and I was wondering if you could do an angsty minty with a modern or college twist. Pre-relationship? I love angst and minty so anything would be good! Thanks!

Monty’s junior year of college is shitty before it even begins.

Sophomore spring sets the tone with three major events: Jasper’s study abroad application, Monty’s parents’ separation, and Harper and Monty’s breakup, in that order.

On its own, the study abroad thing wouldn’t be so bad. Monty had been a little anxious about it, mostly because he and Jasper have been going to the same school since they started going to school. He hasn’t always been in Jasper’s class, but Jasper has always been there at lunch and recess, during study halls, in the library and in his dorm and in his life.

In some ways, the prospect of Jasper being gone was exciting, and in other ways it felt necessary. They weren’t going to be together forever, which meant they had to be apart at some point. Junior year is as good a time as any.

He hears about the separation next, from his mother, during one of their weekly phone calls in March. “I know this is going to come as a shock to you, but your father and I have decided to separate.”

“Separate?” Monty echoes, his voice hollow. It had occurred to him, at various points in his youth, that his parents might not stay together, but some part of him had assumed that they were out of the woods now. That if his parents hadn’t broken up by the time he was a certain age, they just never would. You always heard about children of divorce, not college students of divorce.

“We talked about it a lot,” says Hannah. She sounds so tired. “And I think this is the only way.”

“Okay,” he says, because what else is there to say? This isn’t his decision. He’s not the tiebreaker vote. They already agreed.

“It’s for the best. For us, at least. And I hope now that you aren’t home so much, it won’t be–as difficult for you. We’re doing our best with this.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Do you want to talk to your father?”

Somehow, he’d expected them to already be apart, not that his father would be there. But they do still love him, and they’ve still been married for twenty-plus years. They still know how to work together, so maybe it’s good that they’re breaking up before they lose that.

“Sure,” he says, and lets them talk until they feel better.

He doesn’t tell anyone but Jasper about the divorce because he doesn’t quite know how to feel about it. It’s not a big deal, in some ways, and it’s not even officially a divorce yet. They’re separating, and he’s not even home to witness it. It doesn’t affect his life that much.

He really does believe that. Like if he’s not there, it doesn’t matter what happens to his family.

He and Harper have been dating since freshman year, which means he maybe should have told her what happened, but every time he tried, the words didn’t come out. It felt like he was making a big deal over it and not making a big enough deal all at once, so it averaged out to just saying nothing.

He doesn’t think that’s why Harper breaks up with him–she’s got an internship over the summer and is studying abroad over the fall, plenty to keep her busy–but he can’t help wondering if it was a factor. If, despite his best efforts to remain unaffected by the whole thing, it did hurt him after all.

But still. It wasn’t as if he thought they’d be together forever or anything. So maybe it doesn’t matter much exactly when the breakup happens.

“Should have told her about your parents,” Jasper advises. “Then she wouldn’t have dumped you.”

“She didn’t dump me, we talked about it and agreed that breaking up was the right call. And I don’t want my girlfriend to stay with me just because my parents broke up.”

“I guess not,” Jasper grants. He slings his arm around Monty’s shoulders, gives him a squeeze. “You going to be okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

And he thinks he is. He goes home for the summer and stays with his dad, who kept the old house, for June and July, and then in August his mom gets a new job and moves to Indiana, and he goes with her to help her get set up and get a feel for the new place. It’s nice, but it’s not his, in the same way the old house doesn’t feel like his anymore either. Part of growing up is realizing your parents are people too, but it’s hard to see them being people like this. He’s never wanted their lives to stay the same without him, but at the same time, he can’t help but feel like he’s being left behind.

He feels like a total asshole over the whole thing, selfish and immature, so he doesn’t mention it to anyone, not even Jasper. Instead, he goes back to school and keeps his head down, goes to classes and eats and studies, keeps himself busy enough that he doesn’t even realize until November how bad it’s gotten.

“You’re going to be here for Thanksgiving?” is the question that tips him off, coming from Bellamy Blake, his floor coordinator. It’s a position sort of like an RA, but with lower pay and fewer responsibilities, from what Monty can tell. His job is to be the person who lets the college know if anything is wrong in their dorm and communicates with the dean’s office, as well as serving as a general contact for anyone with a problem. He also collects dues from anyone who wants to pay them and uses them to set up activities, which Monty goes to largely because it’s something to fill the time.

Said position is probably why he knows Monty will be in the dorm; he must have gotten a list.

“Yeah.”

“Any plans?”

“Not really. I’ve got a really heavy course load and traveling is a pain, so I figured I’d just skip it this year.”

Bellamy nods. “Well, if you want something to do Thanksgiving day, Clarke’s local and her parents loaded, so they’re happy to take strays. Her dad is a great cook.”

“I’m fine.”

“Dude, you know there’s a law against college students turning down free food, right? I promise it’ll be good, we’ve got a few other students coming and the Griffins get awkwardly liberal when they’re drunk, not awkwardly conservative.”

Monty smiles a little. “I appreciate the offer, but it’s really okay."0

"Okay, last one,” says Bellamy. “This is a real offer, you can turn it down, but seriously, there’s no downside, and I’m making pie. Plus, I did Thanksgiving alone in the dorm freshman year and it sucked, so–” He shrugs. “We’ll give you a ride and you’re not doing anything else.”

It’s on the tip of his tongue to say no, but what actually comes out is, “How many other people are going?”

“Uh, let’s see–there’s me, Clarke, Miller, Raven, Wells. Everyone but Wells is a student here. Wells is her best friend, their families go way back, so adults are Professor Griffin, her husband, Wells’ dad, and I think Professor Sinclair.”

“Raven Reyes?” he asks. “And math professor Sinclair?”

“Yeah. Raven’s friends with Clarke and Professor Sinclair knows Clarke’s dad. And Raven, I guess.”

Monty doesn’t recognize any of the other names, but he likes Raven, and he’s met Clarke a couple times and likes her well enough too, and sitting alone in his dorm room would be–really sad, actually. And that’s what he’s done most of this year, when people have asked him to do things. With Jasper or Harper around, it was easier, but when he’s on his own, it’s easy to just be anti-social.

“You’re sure you can invite me?”

“Yeah, Jake extended a general invitation to anyone I knew who was going to be on campus.”

“Then yeah, thanks. That would be fun.”

His smile softens, pleased and warm. “Cool. Clarke and Miller have cars, so one of them can give you a ride. I’ll let you know where we’re meeting.”

He spends the rest of the evening dwelling on the interaction, more because he finds it so noteworthy than because he thinks it is. If he hadn’t been going home for Thanksgiving last year, and someone had invited him home with them–well, it probably wouldn’t have even happened like this, last year. He’s not going home because he didn’t want to pick between his parents and he really does have plenty of work to do. But if Jasper were around, or he was still dating Harper, they’d be excuses for him. He could have gone back to stay with his dad because he wanted to see Jasper, or Harper would have taken him to visit with her family. And if neither of those had worked out–

He’s been pretty anti-social, this year. He’s maybe forgotten how to just be a person with friends.

Not that going to his dormmate’s girlfriend’s house for Thanksgiving counts as having friends, but it’s at least non-academic human interaction, and that’s a good place to start. He’s been in a fog, and it would be nice to get out of it. So on Thursday morning he takes a shower and puts on a nice shirt and some slacks, checks to make sure his hair is in order. He asked if he should bring anything and Bellamy said no, but Monty has never believed anyone who told him not to bring something to an adult formal gathering, so he picked up a bottle of sparkling cider. It’s not as good as wine, but buying wine with a fake ID to bring to a professor’s house feels like a risky move.

He puts it in a nice bag and just looks at himself in the mirror for a long moment, trying to take stock of changes, not that there are many. It’s always easy to not tell when people are in rough shape, especially mentally. He’s not even sure who he would have expected to notice. He’s seen friends and acquaintances at meals, been normal with them. He’s opted out of social events because he has homework, but everyone does that. He probably looks more tired than he used to, but he’s taking some rough classes.

He tests out a smile in the mirror, finds he looks like a real person, and the thought makes the smile grow. He’s got this.

Bellamy said he was going over early to help out, so Monty could just get a ride with Miller and Raven, and told him when and where to meet them. If not for Raven’s involvement, he’d probably bail, but Raven is one of those socially competent smart people, and Monty will definitely be able to just hide behind her.

And, luckily for him, she’s already waiting outside the library when he gets there, hands stuffed in her pockets and breath puffing out into the cold air. He gives her a wave and a smile, and she returns both.

“Hey, long time no see.”

He shrugs. “Yeah, well, I stopped taking math classes because computers are cooler.”

“And I stopped taking computer classes because math is cooler, so–”

“There’s no way you’re done with computer classes.”

She grins. “Just for the semester. Got other shit to do, you know? What about you, what are you taking?”

Catching up on classes carries them through until the car shows up, and Raven gets into shotgun without comment, leaving Monty to climb in the back and come face to face with–

“Nate?”

Nate Miller was in Monty’s freshman English seminar on folklore, and he was and probably remains the number-one reason Monty suspects he could be kind of bisexual. They sat next to each other and shared notes and cracked jokes and Monty had been hoping something was going to happen, even went to a few parties where Nate was in the hopes of running into him. But the semester ended and they fell out of touch, and Monty and Harper became a thing, and Monty could ignore the whole crush-on-a-dude thing because it wasn’t really relevant to his life anymore. He had a girlfriend and he was happy.

Except now he’s single and still floundering and Nate Miller is smirking at him from the driver’s seat of his shitty car. “Hey, Monty, long time no see.”

“Didn’t know you two knew each other,” Raven says, looking surprised. “I’d give you shotgun, but the back doesn’t really have room for my leg.”

“It’s fine,” says Monty, smiling. “We were in the same English class freshman year.”

“How’ve you been?” Nate asks. “I didn’t make the connection when Bellamy said one of his dormmates was coming. Is he the most annoying floor coordinator ever?”

“He’s the most involved one I’ve ever had. But it’s pretty okay? He sets up a lot of stuff, but it’s usually fun and he doesn’t pressure us to do it. And I know that if I ever had a problem, he’d drop everything to help, so–overbearing but effective, I guess? And I wasn’t going to do anything for Thanksgiving, so I appreciate him getting me out of room and forcing me to hang out with his girlfriend’s family.”

“And a bunch of awesome people,” Raven adds. “Do you know Clarke?”

“Not very well. She comes to dorm stuff sometimes, but we haven’t chatted much or anything.”

“She’s cool,” says Raven. “Even though I know her because my boyfriend was cheating on me with her.”

Nate snorts. “Fuck, I forgot that’s how you met Clarke. What a dick that guy was. What was his name? Flynn?”

“Finn. He doesn’t even go here, he came to campus to see me and decided he was falling for her when they kept running into each other at the coffee shop.”

“Wow,” says Monty. “That’s–really something.”

“It turned out okay. Clarke and I dumped him, she found Bellamy, I found Zeke, I stalk Finn on instagram sometimes and he’s definitely single and alone. How’s Harper, by the way?”

The question doesn’t hurt, but it does make him wince a little. It’s less that he’s sad about it and more just the awkwardness, the need to deal with and manage people’s reactions. “She’s in Italy, studying abroad. But we broke up.”

Raven only shrugs. “That sucks. Jasper’s abroad too, right?”

“Yeah, full year in Kyoto.”

“Is he sending you a bunch of weird porn?”

He laughs, surprised. “And care packages full of snacks, yeah.”

“Awesome. So, let’s talk Thanksgiving, I assume you want a crash course on who’s going to be here.”

Raven takes control of the conversation, but in a nice, helpful way. Clarke’s mother apparently teaches at the university’s medical school, and her father is an engineer. Her best friend’s dad is a widower and local politician, but, again, a liberal one, which Nate says is important because it’s a very queer meal.

“Meaning?”

“Bellamy and Clarke are bi, I’m gay, Wells is pan, Raven’s–” He frowns. “Where are you thinking?”

“I think pan? I don’t know, I’m dating Zeke right now, but if we break up and a girl catches my eye, I’m cool with that. Are you our token straight?”

It takes Monty a second to realize she’s asking him. “I guess? I don’t know. I’m not against dating a guy, I’ve just never done it.”

He’s said it before, but just to Jasper, late at night, this theoretical admission that was never supposed to matter. In the car with Raven and Nate–Nate, the first guy he ever had a crush on–it feels too real and completely unearned.

But all Nate says is, “Cool, welcome to the queer meal. We have pie.”

Clarke opens the door for them when they arrive, her smile as bright as Monty’s ever seen. She hugs Raven and Nate, and then hugs him too, murmurs, “I’m glad Bellamy nagged you into coming.”

“Me too,” he says, and it turns out to be true. Everyone is perfectly friendly, and he interacts like a normal person, albeit a slightly awkward one. Clarke’s friend Wells is minoring in computer science, so he and Monty have that to talk about, and Professor Sinclair is always interesting. Bellamy’s a little more relaxed when he’s not an ostensible authority figure, Clarke is slightly drunk and loose, and Raven can’t stop smiling.

And then, of course, there’s Nate. Monty’s not sure if Nate is looking out for him deliberately or if he’s always a little apart from the group, but either way, they’re a unit during the meal. Monty finds out Nate and his ex-boyfriend broke up around when Monty and Harper did, that he’s majoring in English, that his dorm isn’t far from Monty’s. He’s here for Thanksgiving because his dad is a cop and works through Thanksgiving so he can take time off to be with his son at Christmas, which is kind of adorable.

The whole thing is kind of adorable, and it’s a little weird, to go straight from “failing to leave his dorm” to “new crush,” but Nate isn’t exactly a newcrush. He was just on hiatus.

Once they’re done with dessert, Mr. Griffin asks, “So, who’s up for board games? We’ve got options.”

“Pandemic?” Raven asks.

“Of course, what do you take me for? It’s Abby’s favorite.”

Monty’s flagging, but Raven’s eyes are alight with excitement, and he’s not going to be the dick who says they need to leave. And he does like board games, it’s just a lot of socializing, especially after so long avoiding situations like these.

“I actually need to get back to the dorm,” says Nate. “I told my dad I’d call him when his shift was done. Clarke, you can take Raven, right? Monty, you staying or coming back with me?”

“I should get back,” he says, hoping his relief isn’t palpable. Everyone’s been great, but he’s done. “I’ve got a program due right after break and it’s a mess.”

No one blinks an eye or tries to get him to stay, not even Bellamy. There are more hugs all around, Mr. Griffin attempting to make Monty take food home, everyone telling him he’s welcome any time he’s on campus for a holiday. He thanks them for having him, assures them that he’ll just steal Bellamy’s leftovers, and then they’re outside in the crisp air and Monty feels like he can breathe again.

“It can be a lot your first time,” Nate says, without Monty’s having to say anything. “I figured you might need to get out.”

“Just a little. They’re nice, but–”

“Like I said, I get it. And there’s definitely some–they really want to have a great holiday, and you can feel the strain.”

“Not always. But yeah, sometimes.”

Nate unlocks the car and waits until Monty is in his seat with his belt fastened before he goes on, “And, no offense, but you seem kind of beat.”

“None taken. I can be pretty introverted.”

“Yeah, but–before we even got there. Feels like you’re maybe having a rough semester.”

“Is it that obvious?”

He pauses for longer than it takes to start up the car and get moving. “I just remember how you were freshman year. I was feeling pretty overwhelmed at college, and you seemed like you had everything figured out.”

Monty smiles. “Yeah, I guess that would make sense.”

“So, are you okay?”

“I’m not used to being on my own,” he admits. “No Jasper, no girlfriend, and a lot of my friends are–not really friends, I guess. Not in a bad way!” he adds. “It’s not like they betrayed me or anything. Just they were more friends with Jasper or Harper than me, or we lived in the same dorm and now we don’t, or–”

“You had a class together and stopped talking after the class ended?” Nate supplies, and Monty colors in the dark.

“For example.”

“I’m not mad, it’s not like I knew how to keep in touch with you either. I sometimes wanted to, but I had kind of a thing for you, so I kept talking myself out of it.” He snorts. “Playing it so cool I iced you out.”

“You didn’t,” Monty hastens to assure him. “I didn’t think you were–I felt the same way, I guess. I wanted to stay in touch, but I didn’t know how and I didn’t want you to think I was coming on too strong or being weird so I just didn’t do anything. Except drag Jasper to some places I thought I might see you.” He swallows hard. Nate already said it, so he can say it too. It’s safe. And it’s in the past, right? They used to have a mutual crush, and now that’s over. “You were the first guy I was ever interested in in real life, I didn’t really know what to do with that.”

“It doesn’t get better when you’ve liked more guys,” Nate says. “It’s always a mess.”

“Great.” He leans back in his seat, closes his eyes. “My parents got a divorce. Or maybe they’re still just separated, I’m not sure where they are in the legal process. And I just keep thinking–they were married for twenty-three years and then they were done. How can you be with someone for that long and then just decide it’s over? Like, I look at me and Harper and I wasn’t sure we’d be together forever, but I could have kept dating her. And then I see Clarke and Bellamy, and they’ve been together for about as long as me and Harper were, but I believe in them. Like, I feel like they’re going to make it. But what does that even mean? They’re married for twenty years with a kid and then they decide they’re not happy anymore? I just–”

He finds himself almost gasping as he finishes, the deluge of words leaving him breathless and shaky. It’s been a rough year for Monty’s faith in anything.

“I guess it depends on what you mean by make it,” Nate says, and Monty is grateful beyond words that he just goes with it. Lets Monty process for a minute. “Just because people break up doesn’t mean they failed. My parents split when I was pretty young, and it was amicable. They got married because my mom got pregnant and decided it was better to break it off before they hated each other. She’ll be here for Christmas with her wife and their kids. My dad’s their uncle and I’m their big brother and they love us. My family didn’t get smaller when my mom left, it got bigger. So I guess it’s more–I bet your parents don’t feel like they wasted twenty years of their lives, you know?”

“I know. I think that’s part of the problem, maybe? It feels like I’m making too big a deal. Jasper’s parents got divorced when we were in middle school, and it sucked for him. They were fighting, he nearly had to move, they don’t even talk anymore. It feels stupid feeling this upset about it.”

“That’s bullshit. You don’t have to have the worst life ever to feel bad. It sounds like you lost all your support systems at once, that’s always going to be shitty. And it’s not like I was this well-adjusted, what, a few months out of the divorce? I was just a kid who missed having my mom living with me. And when she and Alison got together, I was still working through my own sexuality stuff, and I didn’t deal with it that well.”

Monty bites his lip on a smile. “You know, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk about yourself.”

“Well, it’s been a while. Maybe I’ve changed.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe I just like talking to you.” He clears his throat. “So, that’s why you didn’t go home for Thanksgiving?”

“Yeah, I didn’t know how to decide where to go. My parents live in different states now and it just seemed easier to not think about it. I’ve got a lot of work I can catch up on. And the common room’s empty, so I can play video games on the nice TV and not feel bad.”

“What about Christmas?”

“More time off, so I’m doing half the break with my mom and half with my dad. We’re not Christian, so the actual holiday isn’t a big deal.”

“That’s good.” They drive on in silence for a little, but it feels like a good silence, the kind where they’re both just–thinking. “I don’t want to not see you again until Bellamy drags you back to Clarke’s for Thanksgiving next year.”

“Is this every year now?” Monty asks, smiling a little.

Nate doesn’t let him change the subject. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“So far, video games and programming.”

“If I bring my Switch, will you play Overcooked with me?”

“Sure.”

“Cool,” says Nate. “It’s a date.”

It’s not, Monty decides as he goes into his dorm, a solution, not all on its own. Even if he does get a new boyfriend out of this, it’s not going to solve everything, and it shouldn’t. His semester hasn’t been shitty because he was single, and if he and Nate do start dating, his world is still going to feel unstable beneath his feet for a while.

But even if nothing happens with him and Nate past tomorrow, he feels better. He told someone, and it wasn’t awful. He went somewhere and he had fun. He got through his first holiday break away from home, and it was fine.

It’s a nice night, the moon almost full and the air crisp, and Monty breathes it in, feels it down to his toes.

That’s a good enough start.

#i-am-copper-and-tellurium

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oddcoupler222 · 6 years

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*pounds fists on table* Those Who Wait AU, TWW AU, TWW AU! trying to get my chant started ;) but seriously, i would do many things in order for you to post the alternate ending where Margaery didn't come out in that article/didn't go to the wedding...

okaaaay now that the real ending is out and about, i can divulge the au ending

in the event that Margaery didn’t go to Robb’s wedding, didn’t come out to Missandei in that article, the courses of their lives change drastically. Those Who Wait would have come to an end with chapter 21 (post Sansa’s love confession)

and then we would have:

It’s Only A Matter of Time

Sansa and Margaery are “broken up” (semantics, since they weren’t technically together and all). Sansa breaks down to Jeyne about their breakup, has confessed her love for Margaery. It’s been almost a month since that fateful confession, and Margaery is about to do her final interview before the election. In chapter 22 of Those Who Wait, she talks to both Renly and her grandmother, and is also heartbroken and knows she’s in love with Sansa.

But when the moment comes for her to tells Missandei about her sexuality…she decides by the skin of her teeth that it’s too risky, and instead, swallows it and listens to what she believes are her better instincts.

Now, the story diverges. Sansa goes home for Robb’s wedding, dealing withher heartbreak from Margaery. Margaery does not show up and profess her love for her.

Margaery goes on to win the election for the Small Council by the considerable margin she had on Cersei at that given point in time, and buries herself in work to get over her heartbreak. Sansa does her best to lean on her family and friends and deal with her feelings, as she prepares for her internship.

And… life goes on.

Eventually, the heartbreak gets easier. Sansa slays her internship, and returns back to King’s Landing seven months later (about 10 months post-breakup), and is as over Margaery as she’s going to be, really (which hurts and takes some time, more time than she’s ever had to deal with before after a breakup, because she has never been in love with someone the way she’s in love with Margaery. She’s never met anyone like Margaery, and they just had… something between them that clicked so well… so it takes some time).

She enrolls in KLU for a PhD program, working as an adjunct professor there (which will become her tenure career), and eventually starts trying to date. The following year, she meets Arianne Greenfield. She’s a couple years older, a journalist.They date, get engaged, and married, within the next few years. Two years later, they have a daughter, Gemma.

In the meantime, Margaery is a badass and climbing the political ladder like no one’s business. Margaery Tyrell is quickly becoming a name, beyond Olenna Tyrell’s granddaughter. She makes more reforms and gets more proposals approved than anyone has in over twenty years, and gets elected to the High Council in less than three years. Which is outstandingly fast.

She, after almost a year of self-imposed celibacy, VERY quietly dips into meeting women who she is sure will be discreet. It’s less frequent than in the past, she doesn’t go on any dating apps or anything, and it’s usually one night stands. There are a couple who last a little longer, but they are usually people who also have things on the line/wouldn’t really want for their sexuality/romantic pursuits to be public. And even when women inevitably fall for her, she doesn’t ever fall back, or really ever let herself be in a position to be. Because she under no circumstances wants to feel like her personal wants and career are at odds like she did back with Sansa ever again, and also doesn’t want to feel that heartbreak.

Even though they weren’t in each other’s lives, though, they never completely lose track of one another.

Like. The day Sansa gets married, Margaery knows and does she hyper-focus on work that day, staying at the office later than anyone else, and then go home and get a bit drunk and cry? Yes, yes she does. Does she hear through the grapevine that Sansa was pregnant -and see her from a distance at the store during said pregnancy, and feel this pang through her heart at this feeling of longing because no one has ever gotten into her heart like Sansa did? Of course.

Does Sansa always - always - stop to read every article that features Margaery’s rising political career? Sometimes getting lost in the thoughts, with this strange feeling of pride? Does she sit on the edge of her seat during Margaery’s High Council election, because it was just SO important? Undoubtedly.

But no matter how many years went by or even that her wife was a journalist who would occasionally write on politics, she never breathed a word about Margaery’s sexuality.

And they saw each other a handful of times over the years, too. As I said, Marg saw pregnant Sansa at the store. Sansa’s dad died a couple years after she’s married/has her daughter, and as he was a prominent politician who - at that point - Margaery had met multiple times and worked with a bit, she attended his funeral.

Arianne ends up having somewhat of an emotional affair, with her high school sweetheart, when Gemma’s about four, in a painful twist for Sansa, and they geta divorce (the ultimate irony as the world’s biggest romantic who is constantly unlucky in love. Also she publishes a humorous short-stories book Unlucky In Love - Tales of a Literally Hopeless Romantic that she started writing when she was tipsy and at Jeyne’s house the night after her divorce was final).

Margaery, in accordance with her lifelong plan, comes out after being on the High Council for 8/9 years - a couple of years before running for PM. She does it relatively quietly; her name isn’t AS publicized as it is in TWW universe and she, as according to plan, is not in a relationship, so it’s not something that anyone ever sees. It’s still a big deal, but a calculated risk that is relatively working out.

And even though she is now open to the idea of being with a woman publicly, it’s also difficult because… she wants someone who is going to be there for her as a partner, someone who understands all of the demands of her job (and how it’s really not just any job… whoever would be with her has REAL demands put on them as well),someone who has her own ambitions and wants, too. And she can’t really datecasually all that easily, you know? And - Margaery has discretely dated a LITTLE since coming out, but… she has this image of who she wants. It’s a, uhhh, very specific of an image of what she wants in a girlfriend.

The dust is starting to settle on being out, though, because it’s been a little over a year, and as she announced that she’s going to run for Prime Minister in the next election only about 2 years off, and the campaign is slowly starting, there’s a lot more interest in her right now. As the first outwardly gay politician as well as one of the youngest ever, who has become well known as a turning point in politics, there’s been some talk about having an authorized biography of sorts about her to really jump into campaign season.

On the flip side, when Sansa had dinner that night that Marg came out, she quite literally dropped the cup she was holding at the announcement that Margaery Tyrell had come out (thank the gods for having a young child, because her cup was plastic, but like - still, she gets a weird look from her daughter). And she can’t help but have fleeting what-if thoughts that she does her best to squash.

Now, into the thick of things -

One of the big platforms Margaery has been working on since she got into politics is about education. Cost, quality, structure, etc. And she and a few others on the High Council who had supported different bills/proposals about funding for education are going to an event at King’s Landing University, which has a new program running for scholarships and students from not privileged backgrounds.

As the fates come together: Margaery and some others who have been on the political side of this education reform attend a a big dinner/fundraiser to jumpstart some programs at KLU. She’s there, having a decent evening, talking to some coworkers, when some speeches begin - and everything becomes background noise in that moment because

Sansa Stark (is it still Stark, she wonders, after she got married?) is up there, addressing the room. And even though there have been those very few moments they’ve seen one another in the last 15 years, it hasn’t happened in years and Sansa looks so good. Her hair is a little shorter and she’s older, but she’s up there and making a speech and - she is captivated by her.

After the speeches and whatnot are said and done, Sansa is in the crowd and is talking to a few of her coworkers, and as she’s in the middle of conversation, who joins the conversation but Margaery Tyrell.

Sansa chokes on her drink, because she did not know Margaery was going to be there, and she’s really right there and smirking. And Sansa only remembers seeing Margaery once in person since their breakup, but it was at her dad’s funeral and she was heartbroken and grieving and doesn’t remember much of that time, so this feels like. The first time she’s seeing her in person, and of course every time she’s seen her in articles or on the news, it doesn’t do her justice.

They get “introduced” and Sansa is still surprised and speechless, and Margaery shakes Sansa’s hand anyway - holding for a beat too long - as she says, “We’ve met, actually.” But never looks away from Sansa.

“How are you?” is the first thing that comes out of Sansa’s mouth, because she’s just - she’s been wondering since Margaery had come out, honestly.

“I’m well; what about you?” Margaery’s voice is low and even though Sansa’s coworkers are there, she can’t help but feel like it’s just the two of them, and she slowly releases Sansa’s hand - no more wedding ring, she notes, and feels a resounding thud deep inside.

Sansa, after Margaery drops her hand, shakes herself out of it as much as she can, but how does she still feel that way when Margeary touches her? Like it’s 15 years ago, and she has to shake herself out of it. “I - I’m good.”

They don’t have time to talk just by themselves, really, standing in a group with their coworkers, but they have commentary with the group, and don’t really look away from one another.

Sansa goes home, tiptoeing in because Gemma is not the world’s heaviest sleeper. Jeyne is babysitting and can tell she’s dazed even as she huffs and falls into a chair. And when she tells Jeyne, her friend shouts, and ends up cutting the conversation short, because Gemma wakes up.

And Margaery? Well she goes home feeling like she wants to know Sansa all over again.

Fast-forward to a week later, where Sansa gets a phone call from Westerosi Publishing, who has wanted to publish an authorized bio on Margaery since she came out. And she’s almost numb in surprise, when they tell her that she was personally requested to write Margaery Tyrell’s story. “Requested?! By…”

“Ms. Tyrell, of course.”

Which is flattering and for a moment wonderful, but then like - “I’ll be in touch,” she tells them distantly.

Because what does this all mean?

So, she goes to meet with Margaery to talk about this, and has to take deep breaths and remindherself that she isn’t 24 anymore and Margaery Tyrell isn’t the first womanshe’s ever been with who broke her heart. That she is a married-and-divorced woman, with a daughter, and that this is going to be professional (even though it keeps playing in her mind that Margaery PERSONALLY REQUESTED HER).

So, she goes into the meeting, and Margaery is thrilled to see her. Because just in that one reuniting with Sansa, she felt more than she has with anyone else, like they have this thing between them. And she isn’t expecting anything, but maybe this at least can be a solid point for them to talk again.

She and Sansa talk a little bit, and Sansa is clearly a littlenervous, and finally, she asks why Margaery personally requested her for this. And Margaery thinks for a moment. Because her team was against it - “This Stark woman has only written academic pieces, with a sprinkling of historical fiction collabs and one admittedly successful but still book about humorous short stories. You could get so many more distinguished people -” “I want her.” -

“I want my story to be told by someone who understands me,” she settles on, quietly. Honestly. At the very base of it, she needs that.

“And,” she winks, “I’ve read both of your books and I know how talented you are. Even if it’s been a while for us to reconnect, I trust you much more than I trust a stranger to write a fair portrayal of me.”

It’s - the vulnerability that gets Sansa. The honesty, the earnestness, that draws her right in, and she finds herself agreeing.

So they go over some logistics in that meeting, and end with a handshake. And Margaery is wearing that little smile that makes Sansa’s stomach flip-flop even after so long, even though Margaery hasn’t done anything remotely unprofessional… And Margaery is wearing that smile because she just- Sansa is still Sansa. Some things have changed, of course, because no one stays the same after so much time passes, but there are things about Sansa that could never change, and she feels this rush of - something.

So, they communicate a bit through email/text, and then meet up again for a dinner meeting, the following week. And Sansa gets the feeling that Margaery might be hitting on her, somewhat. Which is a rush in and of itself, for her, too. Because Sansa hasn’t dated since her divorce, not really, and Margaery has this thing about her that has always always just set her on fire and made her feel like blushing and beautiful and…

But - no. This is Margaery, who broke her heart once, who is now in evenmore of an important position, who is literally in line to become the leader of the country – and so Sansa clears her throat at dinner and asks, “I know we have a, uh, a history. But this is - professional. You and I. Professional. Right?”

And Margaery smiles at her, even though entirely professional isn’t exactly what she wants, but she concedes…even before she quietly clears her throat, “Sansa, about the - the past-”

“I don’t think we need to talk about that,” Sansa interrupts, flushing, because it’s been so many years and she can still picture when Margaery broke up with her, when they’d met at the cafe, so clearly, and, “There’s no need. We grew, we moved on, and we’re, well, we’re here now.”

Which isn’t exactly what Margaery wants, because she wants Sansa to know so much about what she was feeling back then, and maybe she never really entirely moved on from that? She isn’t positive, she just knows no one else has ignited her the way Sansa does. She’s never felt the need to smile or that weird feeling in her stomach just from hearing from someone the way she does with Sansa, even after this time.

But if that’s what Sansa wants, she nods, and accepts it.

They keep working together, meeting every week. After a couple of weeks, things feel like they have a rhythm down, which is good and easy and just like it always is between them when other things don’t get in the way. They laugh about things and have some light hearted teasing and sort of re-get to know each other (and find that they are different in some ways, of course, but… still the same in others. They talk about their same love of tv shows and movies and books and share new things about their jobs. Sansa talks about Jeyne and Arya (who officially lives in KL now and they are closer now, even) and sort of about her daughter, but she actively has been trying to keep that barrier a bit because she needs to try to keep some boundaries. And Margaery eats every single detail up).

But Sansa does her best to try to redirect them back to Margaery, taking notes about her life and thoughts, and constantly reminding herself that she is there to do a job.

After about a month, Sansa has to cancel their meeting. Because, as she tells Margaery, she just has so much at home right now and she wishes she could go to their dinner, but she just can’t. She sounds so stressed - and Margaery takes the initiative.

She goes to Sansa’s, bringing dinner with her, and officially meets Sansa’s daughter - who is adorable and precocious and chatty after initially being a little shy. She talks to Margaery, all excited, because she recognizes thatshes “the council lady on the news that mommy watches” and asks all sorts of questions, like if Margaery really is in charge of everything and if she gets to have ice cream whenever she wants, etc. And seeing them together is like so surreal to Sansa and alarmingly nice which it SHOULDN’T BE and she sheepishly apologizes for all of Gemma’s loquaciousness after she puts her to bed, but Margaery waves her off, because she genuinely, really enjoyed it.

Things are quiet between them and it kind of leads them into talking more personally than they have been.

About Margaery’s current wants and personal life (they’ve been talking a lot about her history and childhood during their other meetings, because that is where Sansa is starting in getting book material). But Sansa keeps thinking about Margaery and her daughter and ends up saying, “You were really good with her.”

Margaery is pleased and surprised that Sansa thinks so, “You don’t need to sound so surprised,” even if she’s very grateful, “She’s truly very cute. Very much like her mother,” it slipped out.

Sansa laughsa bit, and Margaery hesitantly asks - because she needs to know, “Where is her other mother?”

Sansa is quiet, her shoulders slumping after a moment, before she sighs, and unloads the story. About Arianne, the cheating, and her divorce. And about how she moved to the Westerlands, where she’s from, last year because her new wife’s sister is sick. Which Sansa understands, she supposes, but their daughter is here, and Sansa is essentially a single mother, now, and Arianne is supposed to take her for two weeks to the Westerlands in two weeks, but rescheduled it for the following month, which had resulted in Gemma being very upset and why Sansa had canceled their meeting.

Margaery eats upall of the information (and is pissed about the fact that Sansa’s wife cheated on her and is now all happily married and not here meanwhile Sansa raises their daughter primarily by herself but she holds it in). Before her hand falls to Sansa’s, which - touching isn’t something they do very often, but she can’t help it, “I think you’re truly incredible for doing it all, for the entire life you’ve built.”

And Sansa almost cries, really, because Margaery means it and she can see how much she means it, and she didn’t know how much it would mean to hear Margaery say that but it does. Then she scoffs out a little laugh and is like, “Yeah, and all of this comes from the woman who is doing it all. Everything you’ve ever wanted, en route to being the most successful woman in the country. You really are almost there.”

It truly almost slips out, the words WANT to come out, that she doesn’t really have it ALL…

Which leads into holding long eye contact… leaning in like magnets because how can they not… and they kiss. Starting off slow and exploring and just feeling and Sansa sighs against Margaery’s lips, her hands cupping her jaw softly because gods, there is just a way Margaery feels against her that is so - so Margaery.

And Margaery feels like she could devour Sansa, because this want inside of her is immediate and she feels like they left off in a way that was her own fault, but she never got closure on this door, and it feels like she’s been missing this for over a decade. They makeout on Sansa’s couch and it’s so good, and just when Margaery’s hands fall to her waist, Sansa pulls back.

She’s a little panicked and tells Margaery that they can’t. That it’s not at all agood idea and - so much could go wrong and… they can’t. Because she is panicking and there’s so much to think about, and Margaery sees that, and leaves to give Sansa space.

The next time they meet, a few days later, Sansa is determined to make sure that does NOT happen again (which is also a little rough because Margaery is so fucking attractive and she’s giving Sansa the looks like she wants to kiss her and -ugh). And so finally, she addresses the kiss, and wants to say it’s a mistake and – is floored when Margaery says that she doesn’t regret it at all, and that, in fact, she would like to kiss Sansa again, right now, in fact. Sansa leaves their meeting early and is reeling.

… but eventually gets brave and texts Margaery the next day to ask her professional questions about the next section of the biography. Which Margaery answers, quickly. And then also tells Sansa that she meant it when she said she wanted Sansa yesterday, and that she doesn’t want to push her at all, but she wants to be open this time around.

They end up sleeping together after a celebratory dinner because the first chunk of the book that Sansa got done was extremely well-received by the publisher. And afterwards, Marg spends the night at Sansa’s (because, damn it,she is In This, this time). They see Gemma the next morning, which - Sansa is all, mommy had an adult-friends sleepover, and Gemma is oblivious, but is enamored with Margaery, who is somewhat quickly rushed out by Sansa.

Sansa is having an internal crisis about what to do, because she is nervous about dating at all at this point in her life, isn’t open to being burned again, and definitely isn’t wanting for herself or her daughter to be subject to all of the comments that could/would be made by public medias if everything goes south if she was found out “being with” Margaery (and isn’t sure she wants her daughter all of the suddenin that spotlight at all)

But of course, she can barely control herself with Marg, because when has she ever been able to?

They sleep together a few more times, too and it’s all so familiar but also new, and it’s so exciting. For both of them. Like falling in love all over again but somewhat like they never left. Only, this time, for Margaery it’s something she wants, something she welcomes and she could cry with how much she feels like she’s been missing this, missing Sansa. And for Sansa, she is so unsure and worried…

Featuring a night, about a month into it, Sansa and Margaery are talking - Marg asks about if she’s excited for her “girls night” with Jeyne and Mya and Elia and a few others they’ve befriended along the way, and Sansa disappointed-sighs and says she is going to cancel, because her sitter cancelled on her. And before Margaery realizes it, she is volunteering to watch Gemma for the night.

Sansa pauses, like, “um really?” Because while Margaery has met Gemma a couple of times, it’s never been just the two of them and Sansa has sort of been trying to keep it like that, but the thought of it is so nice…

Margaery is also like WHAT AM I SAYING inside but, “Yes, of course,” slips out, because she wants to be closer to Sansa and getting to know Gemma more is a factor in that. One that she surprisingly isn’t terrified of or avoiding.

It ensues a scene with Loras, who is cracking up, “YOU’RE going to watch a CHILD?” because kids are obviously not something Margaery is around often.

But then she goes to Sansa’s place and Sansa gives her quick overview/instructions and is sort of reluctant to leave…

However, it turns out that Gemma at first is very satisfied with laying down and coloring and reading, especially because Margaery makes a lot of funny voices when it comes to reading aloud. They end up getting along well. Margaery paints her nails and Gemma is just really damn adorable because she is like a little Sansa in a few ways, which is more precious than Margaery could have thought.

She also gets Margaery to give her some lemon cakes by giving her the big-blue eyes, and when they’re sitting together at the kitchen table, she stares at Marg and asks, “Are you dating my mommy? Because my mom, my other mom, dated someone new and then left,” and she’s all downtrodden.

And there’s a moment for them, where Margaery feels the weight of those words, the weight of what she’s doing here - what she wants to do - with Sansa, as in be serious with her. She finds that she’s still not scared of it, though, and she gives Gemma a little smile, “I don’t think your mommy would leave you, for anything in this world.”

And Gemma smiles a little back at her, “You’re probably right.”

They end up falling asleep on the couch together, during which Gemma tells Margaery that she’d like if she came back for movies, especially if she’s dating her mom. And also if Margaery wants to come to school with her on career day, because “that would be cool.”

And gods be damned, Margaery thinks right in that moment she falls for Gemma, too.

And coming home from girls night - which featured Sansa getting called out on sleeping with Margaery and Jeyne absolutely screaming, “What fucking YEAR is it?!” - Sansa comes home and sees the two of them sleeping on the couch. Which of course melts Sansa’s very soft heart that she has been trying to keep tough to relatively no avail.

It all leads to a moment nearing the end of this, where Sansa is talking to Margaery for the biography, tentatively, about her love life. And she has to get all of her bravery to ask, “And… have you ever been in love?” She doesn’t know what she wants to hear, really, but she knows her heart is racing.

When Margaery stares at her she holds her gaze, as she feels her own heart pounding, “With one woman, yes.”

And Sansa’s breath rushes out, and tries to continue asking questions, trying to remain as objective as possible, starting to ramble a bit.

But Margaery interrupts her, standing from her desk as she speaks quietly but steadily, “I was in love when I was in my twenties, right before I won my first big election for the small council.” She rounds the desk to kneel in front of Sansa, “There was a woman who was both predictable and unpredictable in the best of both ways, kind and intelligent, and so very lovely, who was in love with me. I broke her heart, because I was too concerned with how it would effect my career. And I’ve spent fifteen years questioning and ultimately regretting that decision, and wondering what might have been if I hadn’t been so afraid.“

At some point, her eyes welled up with tears, because it’s all true and it feels so big inside of her, all of the times she’d spent wondering what if, what if.

Sansa’s heart is racing and she is this close to tears, as she’s frozen. And she… she doesn’t know what to do.

"I haven’t dated anyone seriously since my divorce,” comes out.

"I know, darling,” it feels so natural to say, and Sansa actually shivers at it, even as she shakes her head.

"I - I have a daughter.”

“Gemma is very lovable.”

“I… I’m scared,” she admits, because she is, that’s what it boils down to. Scared for her daughter, scared for herself, and…

“I’m not.”

“How can you not be?” Sansa was incredulous.

“Because everything I said to you is true, Sansa. I broke your heart because I was afraid and I can’t change that, but I’m out now, and I’m not afraid. I’ve done everything alone, just like I always thought I would. But I never thought it would be so lonely. And I want you to share it with, if you want me, too,” it’s really more begging than she’s ever done in her life, and she doesn’t want Sansa to leave her office, she - she feels like everything is so vulnerably on the line.

But Sansa’s hands are shaking and she tells her she just - she needs some time.

Which leads to both of them being miserable and Margaery tries to give her space, even as she thinks about how she’s sure that only Sansa will ever be this for her. This person who makes her feel so much, who she is so in love with, who makes her feel like everything is on the line. She doesn’t want to lose that, not again.

And Sansa… Sansa doesn’t know what to do at all. Until Margaery ends up coming to Gemma’s career day, shocking her, giving her an apologetic look, “I wouldn’t have come but Gemma, well, she asked me. And I’ll leave right after, I swear to you.”

Gemma beams at Marg while she speaks and tells Sansa that she likes the lady she’s dating, and there’s something in that moment that makes her feel like she should dive - so she follows Marg when she leaves, her heart in her throat.

And Sansa is actually, really, crying when she reaches her, her voice breaking, “You broke my heart. More than anyone ever has,” she admits, “I loved my wife, I really did, but even her cheating and ending our marriage… it was harder because of the situation, but I wasn’t as heartbroken, not nearly.”

Margaery stares at her, wide-eyed and she knows they’re in public and for this one moment, she can’t bring herself to care.

“There’s something about you, about you and me, that is just different. I thought it was because you were my first woman or maybe because you were the first person I really fell in love with, but I don’t - I don’t know how to explain. I don’t know anything other than the fact that it’s just the way it is,” she wipes at her cheeks, her hands shaking, her heart on the line it feels like, because everything with Margaery feels like that, and it always has.

But this time, Margaery’s eyes are big and soft and warm and there’s so much hope in them and there’s this rising feeling in her stomach, before Margaery reaches out and pulls her toward her, her arms wrapping around her waist, pushing up onto her tiptoes to kiss Sansa.

Not in secret, not in fear, just - loving her, for real, and she can’t stop, even as she feels Sansa’s hands comb through her hair before holding her there.

“It’s the same way for me,” she murmurs when they part, “It always has been.”

#those who wait #tww: au #its only a matter of time #long post #sorry #i love angst but this could never be the true ending because i LOVE madelyn and ellie so much i would miss them if they were never born #the problem is now that i also love gemma too D:

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secndlife · 6 years

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sun&moon | 1.

pairing: jackson x reader x jinyoung

genre: soulmate!au, college!au, fluff, angst, eventual smut? everything basically

summary: she has always trusted fate. she was destined to someone and she was determined to find it. she found herself wrapped in hands that feel warm like the sun, but that belonged to someone else. she keeps on looking, only to find out that her fate had been watching over her, just like the moon.

word count: 3.3k

playlist

masterlist

It was midterm season and t was cold. Not ‘I’ll freeze to death’cold, but ‘holy shit it’s really cold’ cold - and that made you lazy and grumpy whenever you weren’t in bed. All you wanted was to get out of this lesson, grab a caramel macchiato and hit home. You felt so tired, all your lessons were draining you. You loved you major, you did. Public relations was something you’ve always wanted to do but now, being so close to graduating, things were chaotic. You had to work on your final thesis and still pass all these classes. All you wanted was to graduate and finally be hired full time at your internship - you were working at a small music company as their public relations assistant.

As your professor started to gather his belongings, he said, ��Well everyone, don’t forget to read the chapter assigned on the syllabus for this week’s lesson and write down the essay about how social media can change the perspectives on PR. Thank you and see you next week for our midterm.”

“Oh my God! Is the midterm next week? Fuck! I totally forgot that!” your friend Jisoo started freaking out while you two left the classroom.

“Yes baby,” you laughed, “I can send you the summary I made for this subject and we can study together next week, I don’t mind.”

“Oh really? Urgh, I love you, you’re the best,” she said with a smile and giving you a side hug. Jisoo was one of your best friends ever since you started university. You two hit off instantly after meeting at orientation week and next thing you know you’re renting an apartment together at one of the campus’ buildings.

“Yeah, I know. Do you have another class or you’re ready to go home?” You hoped she was ready to go home so you two could have a movie night with a lot of food.

“I can’t. I’m supposed to meet up with Mark for this other project we have.”

“Oh, does this project have anything to do with making out until your lips fall off?” you said while you bumped her shoulder. Mark and Jisoo sort of had a thing. No one really knew how to label what they had, but it was definitely something and it was clear for everybody.

“Please, that’s your deal with Jackson. Anyways, we’re just meeting at the cafeteria, it’s really about a class project.”

“Hm sure, miss.” You gave her a side eye. “And about Jackson, we haven’t hooked up in a while. We’re nothing, especially compared to you and Mark. We just have fun when we’re drunk or bored, honestly.”

“Yeah sure, baby. If that’s what you tell yourself before you sleep with him… Anyways, I have to go. Mark’s texted me already. Don’t wait up ok?” she said, winking at you while she left off to meet Mark. Jisoo could deny as much as she wanted, but she would never be able to fool you - and she was falling fast for him.

You waved her goodbye and started making your way towards your place. You took off your earphones and put on a song just to distract you from the cold weather. Even tho you weren’t a fan of being outside in the cold, you could use a walk. It was calming around campus, especially since it was already past 6pm and most people were off class. You walked slowly, looking up at the sky and at all the people around you. You spotted a couple, maybe around your age and wondered if they had their tattoos already.

It was common knowledge: on the morning of your 23rd birthday, you’ll get a tattoo on your wrist, your soulmate’s initial. They’ll have your first letter tattooed on their opposite wrist; there are a few rare cases where the tattoo is on the same wrist, but those are truly uncommon. You never even heard of one. And if you still haven’t found your soulmate within a year, you’ll get the first letter of their surname next to it.

In your group of friends, Mark and Jaebum were the ones who had a tattoo already. Mark had a “J” on his left wrist. He had a thing already with Jisoo even before it happened so they just kept on going. Jisoo’s tattoo was a few months away, but she seemed pretty sure she’d get an “M” on her right wrist, even tho they weren’t “official”. Jaebum, on the other hand, had a “W” on his right wrist, but he hasn’t found anyone to match. That didn’t stop him from kissing a bunch of girls at frat parties just to get over his ex though. She turned 23 before he did and when her tattoo wasn’t his initial, she broke up with him. He understood, he knew it could happen, but that doesn’t mean it was easy to get over her.

The next one to get a tattoo would be Jackson, his birthday only a week away. You two had a unique relationship - ever since you met at a party in freshman year you have got along really well; having similar personalities made it 10 times easier. You’re both social butterflies, funny, touchy and dramatic - you were just a tone lower than Jackson. That caused you to be close to one another and to flirt constantly. Jackson had always some smart comment about you and you never backed off. After a few months of shameless flirting and sexual tension, you two started hooking up in your second year at university. It happened first at a frat party when you two were drunk and horny. It was no big deal - honestly, everything with Jackson was carefree. The sex was great, intense, and there were no strings attached. You two had no reason to call it off or to start anything serious so you just left it at that, hooking up whenever you felt like it and it never affected your friendship. He hooked up with other girls sometimes, but you honestly didn’t care. You knew you were free to do the same, you just wasn’t a big fan of one night stands.

Most of your friends knew and it wasn’t a big deal for them either. After it first happened, you got home and talked to Jisoo about it.

“Well, he’s hot and nice and you two get along really well. I honestly don’t see why not. You’re young, pretty and single. You should be having fun, you know?”

“I mean, yeah, I know. I’m just a bit… unsure? I don’t know, Jackson’s really intense and I don’t wanna feel it too much?” you didn’t wanna fall for him, not at all.

“Then don’t. Look, don’t make a big deal out of this. You two just hooked up. Make this as fun and not serious as it can be so it would be beneficial for both of you. I’m pretty sure Jackson’s not looking for a relationship right now either so.” You thought about it and Jisoo was right, you had nothing to lose - besides, it would be nice to have good sex with a good guy whenever you felt like it.

A few days later you told Jinyoung about it. He was your best friend since God knows when. You two grew up together and your moms were friends so that lead to you being friends as well. You were having coffee together when you said with a tone as normal as it could be, “I’ve slept with Jackson.”

He was taking a sip of his drink and he pretty much choked on it: “You what?”

“Yeah, I mean, you could see it coming right?” You stared at him waiting for him to say something while he looked a bit uncomfortable.

“I guess. How was it? Are you two a thing now?” he asked, not really wanting to know the answer and looking everywhere but at you.

“No, he’s all about being a free spirit right now and I don’t want a boyfriend. So I guess we’re just gonna have random sex,” you laughed.

Jinyoung gave you a smile, shaking his head, “Lucky you then.”

After a few minutes of walking, you finally reached home. You were welcomed by your cat, Winnie. You and Jisoo adopted her as soon as you moved in, both being cat lovers. She was a Tonkinese with light brown fur, darker face and ears and the bluest eyes you’ve ever seen. She curled up at your leg while you walked in: “Hey girl”, you said, patting her head. She purred, appreciating the soft touch. You left your shoes and the entry and finally made your way towards your bedroom while Winnie followed you.

You dropped your things at your writing desk and then went to your bathroom. You couldn’t wait to take a nice relaxing bath and since Jisoo was busy with Mark, you’d take that time alone for some self-care. It was Friday and you weren’t in a party mood, so you decided to open a bottle of wine and just drink it by the tub. You turned on the water, feeling it with your hand to make sure it was just the right temperature. After drying your hands, you went to the kitchen to get the bottle of wine that was just waiting for you. You got the glass and after opening the bottle you went back to the bathroom; by then the tub was almost half full and you wanted nothing more than to spend the next hour in there, drinking your wine and relaxing among the bubbles. You plugged your phone on the speaker and put on one of your favorite songs. You got one of your bath bombs out of the cabinet and proceeded to undress. When the tub was full, you got your hair up in a bun and dropped the bath bomb in the water. Immediately, the jasmine smell started to spread all over your bathroom and that made you feel calmer. The water was filled with bubbles that had all shades of pink, which was just what you needed. You got your glass of wine on the tub border and went inside. The water felt so good, you could feel it’s warmth spreading all over your body and starting to relax you.

With soft music playing on the background, you started to let your mind wander. You started to think about this soulmate thing. Your 23rd birthday was a few months away and you’d finally get your tattoo. You were not sure what that’d mean for you. You were an intense and curious person and the possibility of not finding your soulmate killed you. You wanted that, you wanted that bond and you wanted to live what you were destined to live. You were scared of ending up alone, with two letters on your wrist that you’d never find out who they belonged to. The possibility of falling in love with someone who’s not your soulmate is equally terrifying. That’s why you didn’t have any serious relationships in the past - you didn’t want to fall for someone who could not be your person. Sure, people ended up with their non-soulmates all the time, but that’s not what you want for yourself. When you fall in love, you want to do it with the right person. But how could you be sure? In theory, you couldn’t. You could find someone who’s theoretically your match, but maybe he’s not. Those who were able to find their matches, they say you just know - you feel it. But there was no way to prove it, you couldn’t be sure of it in any means other than your feelings and your heart.

After three glasses of wine, a bunch of songs and wrinkled hands, you decided it was time to get out of the tub. The wine got you a bit tipsy so you were just gonna heat up some leftover pizza and hit the bed while some movie was playing on the TV. You got your towel wrapped around your body and made your way back to your bedroom. You felt way more relaxed now. You dried off your body and got into one of your oversized t-shirts that you usually wore to sleep. Winnie was lying comfortably in your bed so you petted her tail, “I’ll be back in a second, I’ll just grab some food and I’ll come to cuddle you”. She purred in agreement and you went to the kitchen so you could finally eat something. You took the pizza out of the fridge and put it on the microwave. Once it was done, you got your plate and got back to the bedroom. You poured yourself another glass of wine and started looking for something to watch on Netflix. You settled for one of your favorite movies, “Love, Rosie”. You’ve watched it countless times and could never get tired of it. It always made you cry because you loved this idea that if two people are supposed to be together, they’ll be together in the end, no matter what. That’s what you hoped happened to you too, you hoped you’d end up with your soulmate after all.

By the time the movie ended and the second romcom you decided to watch, alongside with the bottle of wine, it was almost 11pm and you decided to go to bed. First, you went to check on your phone, who was long lost since you’ve got home. You picked it up and was greeted by some texts from Jackson:

[10:30pm] Jackson: what are you doing on this friday night beautiful

[10:31pm] Jackson: I wanna cuddle

[10:32pm] Jackson: can I come over? I swear I won’t try anything besides kissing you and cuddling

[10:45pm] Jackson: answer meeeee

You laughed at his texts - Jackson could be needy sometimes. You thought about his request - well, you had nothing to lose and you could use some strong arms cuddling you to sleep so you texted him back.

[10:50pm] you: wow friday night and you’re texting me about cuddling? why aren’t you at a party?

It didn’t even take him 2 minutes to reply.

[10:51pm] Jackson: don’t think i didn’t try! but there’s not even a single party on this campus today

[10:51pm] Jackson: besides, I’m too tired to party today and I wanna cuddle

[10:52pm] Jackson: so, can I come over or what?

[10:53pm] you: hm I guess. I could use some ok cuddles for the night.

You knew he’d whine at you calling his cuddles ok. That was a part of your relationship, this bickering, it added fuel to the dynamic.

[10:53pm] Jackson: ok??? ok??? my cuddles are fucking great.

[10:54pm] Jackson: anyways be there in five

[10:54pm] you: hurry up i’ve had a whole bottle of wine and I’m sleepy

In less than 10 minutes Jackson was ringing the doorbell, his dorm being really close to yours. You got out of bed and made your way to the entrance, Winnie following you. You opened the door and were greeted by a smiley Jackson. He was wearing sweatshirts and black adidas pants. He looked really hot in simple clothes like that.

“Hi,” he said, making his way towards you and giving you a kiss on the cheek.

“Hi,” you replied while giving him some room so he could come inside. “Can’t believe you couldn’t find a place to be tonight.”

“I did, here.” He closed the door behind him and all of the sudden Winnie showed up at his feet. “Hey pretty lady,” he said patting her head. “I swear this cat likes me more than she likes everyone else. She cuddles me whenever I come around.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “She does that to everyone Jackson, don’t be so full of yourself.” You started walking towards your bedroom and you heard his footsteps chasing after you. Suddenly, you felt strong arms being wrapped around your waist.

“Bullshit, she never does that to Jaebum,” Jackson said while he rested his head on your shoulder.

“That’s because Jaebum smells like his cats and Winnie doesn’t like that. She’s jealous,” you said, laughing.

Once you’ve reached your bedroom, you got out of Jackson’s grip and plopped onto the bed. The man was still standing at the doorway, staring at you with a pout while he took off his red hoodie, revealing a simple black shirt underneath. “What’s with the face, Jacks?”

“I know she likes me better, don’t lie to me.” He could be such a drama king sometimes and it was really amusing to watch and bicker back. Tonight though, after a bottle of wine and an exhausting day, you just wanted to sleep.

“Jacks, please, I’m really sleepy. Just get in here.”

“Well, since you’re begging.” You smiled lightly when he laid by your side. You were facing each other and you felt his hand coming to rest on your hips, “I’ve kinda missed you.”

“Missed me or my body?” you said, teasing him.

“Stop, you know it’s not like that,” Jackson had a cute pout on his face.

You gave him a light peck on the lips, “I know, it’s just funny to see your face when I say stuff like that.”

You stroked his hair and he closed his eyes. “You look really good with dark-brown hair, you should stick to it.”

“I look good with every hair color, baby. But thanks,” he hummed softly, feeling your hands over his locks. You laughed. Jackson was such a confident person, so sure of himself. You admired that. And he also made you feel more confident yourself since he was always dropping praises your way.

You felt his hands slowly rising your t-shirt up so he could stroke your thighs with the tip of his fingers, “You know, my birthday is next Friday. It will be my 23rd.”

“Hm, I’m aware.” You closed your eyes, feeling his soft warm touch against your skin. You could also feel his face closer to your, his breath smelt like mint and it made you wanna taste it.

“You know,” you felt his hand making its way from your thighs to your cheek. “I’m gonna get my tattoo in a week,” his lips brushing against yours lightly. “And I wouldn’t mind at all if it was your initial.”

Next thing you know, his lips are fully on yours. They taste just like they smell, minty. Nevertheless, they feel warm. Everything about Jackson was warm. His touch, his kisses, his heart. He was so intense it felt like fire, and sometimes you were scared you’d get burned. You felt his tongue at your bottom lip and then it was against yours. The kiss was passionate, just like him. His hand then moved to the back of your neck as he pressed you further against him. You hummed in response, your hands against his chest, grabbing at his shirt.

His lips then moved towards your neck. On his way down, he kissed your jawline and your jugular, making you whimper.

“You said you wouldn’t try anything tonight,” you said while you felt his tongue against that soft spot he knew all too well at your neck.

“Say the word and I’ll stop. Besides, I’m still just kissing you,” he said and then bit at your neck softly, earning a low moan.

“Jacks…” You were literally exhausted and all you wanted was for him to hold you while you fell asleep. You grabbed his face gently and moved it towards yours, giving him a final kiss.

He smiled, “Fine, c’mere then.” He pulled you closer, making you rest your head on his chest. It felt warm and safe there and you started drifting away, sleepiness washing over you. “I mean it you know.”

You looked at him, half-lidded eyes, “Huh?”

“I wouldn’t mind if your initial showed up at my wrist next week.” He had such a genuine smile across his handsome face and it kinda made your heart melt.

You smiled back at him, eyes closed and ready to fall asleep, “Neither would I.”

a/n: ok so… my first experience in writing? I don’t even know how this “ok i’m gonna write” thing started tbh. I know I have a huge tendency in not finishing things up, but I have so much planned for this series, so please, bear with me. I’ll try my best within my limits ok? I wanna thank three girls who helped me a lot; @yoongitalks, one of my inspirations, my friend and also my beta. thank you for putting up with me and for accepting my insane request of joining me on this mess. i love you to the moon and back. @jugyoem, my baby, the amazing artist who did the cover for this fic. thank you for supporting me through everything. I love you a lot! lastly, my music expert, @yyugyx, who helped me with the playlist. can’t thank you enough for always saving me with your music knowledge. love you! anyways, feedback is always appreciated and my askbox is always open.

#g7network #got7 scenarios #got7 imagines #got7 #jinyoung #jinyoung fic #got7 fic #jinyoung x reader #jackson #jackson imagine #jackson fic #jackson x reader #jinyoung imagine #jinyoung scenario #sun&moon

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doctr-p · 6 years

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I’ve been delaying this post for a while, partially because I’m low key embarrassed to be so upset that a favorite show of mine is ending, but mainly because I am so upset and don’t want to believe the adventure is over.

Later today Adventure Time will be airing it’s final episode and well, I just can’t believe it. It has been a such a wild ride for the past 8 years (10 if you count the pilot). I’m not here to spout out all the reasons why “Adventure Time was the best show ever” or criticize those who don’t like it. Frankly, I don’t even think AT is objectively the best show ever; it certainly had it’s ups and downs during different seasons- I’m here to reminisce about how impactful the show was on me. I’m not sure why I want to do this...but I guess it makes me happy to do so or at least gives me a sort of closure...errr I feel like I’m sending the show off right? It’s the least I can do for all it has done for me. This is going to be a long one so I will spare everyone and place a keep reading below!

Adventure Time came out the end of my senior year of HS and I was extremely excited since I did see the pilot episode a year or two prior on YouTube. I guess the whole premise was amazing to me (especially since I was fond of having my own adventures with my dog at the time): a boy and his dog kick ass through a magical world- originally such a simple concept yet got increasingly convoluted and complex. I never would imagine how much this show would become embedded into my life.

Flash forward to my first year of college when S1 was still coming out. Me being a extremely shy person, I was having trouble interacting with all my new classmates- plus it didn’t help that this was the first time I was permanently away from home. I still remember during one of our orientation events another student and I were walking to a building and got lost. I quietly made a small reference to AT and he immediately started freaking out all excited that I enjoyed the show too. We quickly started discussing the episodes and the next thing I know I was actually coming out of my shell- I felt comfortable?? One thing led to another and suddenly we had a group of AT fans that would all meet up in someones dorm room each Monday night at 7:30pm sharp to watch the new episodes around someone’s tiny laptop.

A couple of months into my first semester my dog suddenly passed away. Now this was a dog I grew up with, he was my pal and honestly my main friend since I didn’t have many in HS. This was extremely difficult for me to handle- especially being so far away from home.. My coping mechanism? AT, lots and lots of AT with my new friends- they stuck with me for hours, even days, when I refused to leave my dorm room because I was so upset. Not only did this show get me through this arguable one of the darkest moments in my life, it also did something else at the time: my parents were trying to contact me everyday during this entire ordeal to check up on me- of course I told them about the show and how my friends and I would watch it. For the first time in years I was able to convince them to watch a cartoon..I wasn’t even trying to convince them, I believe they wanted to watch it maybe to relate? Have something to talk about with me other than my late dog? Or perhaps they saw the show was so comforting to me that it brought them comfort to watch it and connect with me since I was gone? Let’s just say I’ve never been able to convince them to watch any other cartoon since.

To keep it breif (lol) AT had a huge impact on my college life, I continued to bring the show to others’ attention. Marathoning it with new watchers and friends throughout my 4 years there. I had a collection of merch, I even dressed up as Finn and went reverse trick-or-treating with friends (aka we knocked on peoples doors and gave them candy). Quoting the show was basically 50% of my vocabulary (it sorta still is >w<) and I honestly believe it made me more confident in social situations. Heck my first DnD campaign was in The Land of Ooo!

My next adventure was veterinary school where the show continued to help push me through those stressful and difficult days. At this point AT was plastered somewhere on my daily materials and because of this I often got asked about it. One time in particular I was asked about it after giving a research presentation to my lab that I was working in that summer. My research professor saw my Finn and Jake desktop background and asked what it was and commented “it looks very you, I’m curious.“ I don’t think I’ve ever smiled so hard in my life, especially after a presentation. I gave a brief synopsis and jokingly mentioned we should watch a couple of episodes at the next lab meeting. WELL GUESS WHAT WE DID? During our last meeting I put on the episode From Bad to Worse because Science the rat saves the candy kingdom from a zombie disease- very relevant to our research :P and then afterwards I showed them my all time favorite episode (still fav) The Creeps. During this moment I thought- holy shit I can’t believe I’m watching Adventure Time with a bunch of highly educated, intellectual people in a research lab of a highly regarded institution- what is life???? It was certainly an experience I will never forget and probably never have again in this sort of setting. It probably is one of my fondest memories this show has brought me.

I continued to truck on through vet school; AT started to get that inconsistent airing schedule from CN which definitely made the show less prominent in my life especially with my increasingly busy schedule. That being said, it became so much a part of me- it was literally instant comfort when I saw anything related to the show. It was almost like, a home away from home. Throughout my clinical year (the last 1.5 years of vet school) I carried notebooks with Finn and Jake on them to take notes in. And even got an AT surgical cap. Some thought it was childish, but honestly I didn’t care. Some days were so hard and so shitty, I just needed something to look at to make me smile or feel even the slightest better. Funny enough, a lot of the clinicians would ask me about the show and some even knew what it was!

Finally we get to the present.. this poor show has dragged on, and I mean dragged on, due to the poor airing schedule on CN. Honestly it has made me angry that CN treated this long-running series so poorly (and same for SU tbh). I believe this ending is being rushed as there are some lose ends that I don’t think will get tied up nicely. That being said, I’m happy the show will get AN ending and not some random meaningless last episode.

Anyway I digress, it has been a long, crazy ride. Adventure Time has gotten me through some of the darkest and happiest moments of my life, including my extremely intense and difficult internship I’m going through right now. It has helped me forge friendships and start conversations, it has made me feel at home while being far away from home. “Homies help homies” is something I basically live by now and will probably continue to do so for the rest of my life. I know I can always rewatch the series, keep my merch around, and continue to share the show with others- however it is still very hard to let go knowing there will be no more TV adventures. I don’t want to compare it to when someone or something actually dies, but honestly? It sort of feels like that in a way, it feels like a part of my heart will die after it finishes and I guess that’s why it upsets me so. Maybe the fear of it losing relevance? Bringing it up to people and chatting about it casually won’t be a thing anymore? Or maybe it’s just the fear of knowing there will be nothing new and it will fade away. The only other show that has impacted me so much has been Yu Yu Hakusho since I grew up with it. I feel similarly about it, however I don’t talk about it as freely with random people. In addition, YYH was long finished after I got to watching the final episode. So while seeing the last episode makes me tear up each time, I don’t think it will feel quite like this will. Anyway, I unfortunately won’t even be able to watch the last episode as I have to go to work, but I when I am able to watch it I will surly be the hotest of hot messes. Thanks for all the adventures and support Adventure Time, you will be sorely missed.

#sorry for the super long post..i just needed to do this..don't feel obligated to read!#I know there will be comics continuing and such but still..it isn't quite the same!!#also I find it crazy that AT and YYH have 'big things' going on in back to back months- im an emotional mess XD #adventure time #the ultimate adventure #come along with me #AT #i think the sticker on my car is my favorite thing I have- continue the adventure wherever I travel :P #thanks again adventure time #b borks

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

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EVERY FOUNDER SHOULD KNOW ABOUT SENTENCE

And unless the rate at which technological progress throws off new addictions, we'll be deluded into thinking we can get it back minus the bad parts, somehow with a few vague questions and then drift off to get a really big bubble: you need to have something solid at the center, so that even smart people were fooled by the Bubble. But it's the same process that cures diseases: technological progress. But it's probably not that dangerous to start worrying too early that you're default dead, start asking too early. He wanted to do everything himself. And the lever not only grows increasingly long, but the pool allowed to write essays, you need two ingredients: a few topics you've thought about a lot, will probably surprise most readers. Indeed, this is the place to attack them. Morgan was to the horizontal axis, Henry Ford was to the horizontal axis, Henry Ford was to the customers. But what happened next illustrated how much more complicated the world gets, the more you learn, the more hooks you have for new facts to stick onto—which means you accumulate knowledge at what's colloquially called an exponential rate. I've seen that happen with cigarettes.

It was more prestigious to be one of the casualties. But the staff writers of newsmagazines. Which in those days there was practically zero concept of starting what we now call a startup: a business that starts small and grows big. There is another reason founders don't ask themselves whether they're default alive or default dead. So if you want to win by making the best stuff, is the beginning.1 It will actually become a reasonable strategy or a more reasonable strategy to suspect everything new. But was it a precondition for the rise of new kind of company. The only place to look was in the early 20th century, big companies were roll-ups that didn't have clear founders. It ought to work for business too.

A couple years ago my friend Trevor and I went to the right parties in New York. What made the options valuable, for the most part, is that the old way dead, because those few are the best startups. He had all of us roaring with laughter. That sort of thing did not happen to big companies in mid-century most of the time but occasionally cut someone up and bury them in your backyard, you're a bad guy. In startups one person may have to do it well or they can be swapped out for another supplier. This apparently random collection of annoying habits has a single explanation: the power of nerds has grown to reflect it. VCs want to blow you up, in one sense of the word. That had already happened to Slashdot and Digg by the time I paid attention to comment threads there, but I do tend to reproduce the same thoughts later. It's hard to predict in advance which startups will succeed.

I want to explore: great new things often come from the margins? Topic sentence, introductory paragraph, supporting paragraphs, conclusion. P 500 in 1958 had been there an average of 61 years. Now women ask me where they can meet nerds. Well, let's look at the way software gets written in most organizations, it's almost as if they were indications of character rather than talent—as if having a stupid idea made you stupid. Though quite successful, it did not seem as if a lot of time worrying about what I should do. There is a contradiction in the very phrase software company. Oddly enough, scheduled distractions may be worse than unscheduled ones. When I was in college in the mid 1950s it was engulfed in a wave of suburbia that raced down the peninsula. Thanks to Sam Altman, David Greenspan, Aaron Iba, Jessica Livingston, Robert Morris, Peter Norvig, Lisa Randall, Emmett Shear, Sergei Tsarev, and Stephen Wolfram for reading drafts of this. Obviously the spread of literacy and the arrival of TV the golden age of the essay. But after a second's reflection, the answer seemed obvious.

This sort of trolling was in the early 20th century. It often seems to outsiders that the great advantage of insiders is an audience. One can't have quite as little foresight as a river.2 Enough of an effect to triple the value of Nasdaq companies in two years? Some switched from meat loaf to tofu, and others by playing zero-sum games. A round, the round is the top idea in your mind, which means working on the company isn't. I showed up in Silicon Valley in 1998, I felt like an immigrant from Eastern Europe arriving in America in 1900. Instead of working on things the eminent have made prestigious, work on things that could steal that prestige. Plus making them is more fun. Within companies there were powerful forces pushing people toward a single model of how to look and act. But a significant number do, and the result was miraculous.

But, like children's books, TV was also misleading. The fact that a few crooks during the Bubble was the startup created with the intention of selling it. And at least in your lifetime. But for nearly everyone else, spoken language is better. Sometimes, like a VC. Why? There are too many dialects of Lisp. A programmer can leave the office and go and get a sandwich without losing the code in his head. These two senses are already quite far apart. Equity is the fuel that drives technical innovation. Till quite recently, running a major company meant managing an army of individual warriors, no matter how good your growth is great. They raise their first round fairly easily because the founders seem smart and the idea sounds plausible.

It wasn't just as consumers that the big companies paid their best people less than market price. Increasingly, startups are taking charge of their own angel rounds. Nearly all the returns are concentrated in a few big winners. It's a smart move to put a startup in a place with restaurants and people walking around instead of in an office park, because then the people who want them. And that's in the best case. So when investors stop trying to squeeze a little more out of their existing deals, they'll find they're net ahead, because so many more new deals appear. Silicon Valley proper is mostly suburban sprawl. The faster you cycle through projects, the faster you'll evolve. They would seem to have been the idea that professors should do research as well as economic fragmentation.

And this too tended to produce both social and economic cohesion. But don't kill the golden goose. At first glance it doesn't seem there's anything to see. But if angel investors become more active and better known, they'll increasingly be able to coordinate their efforts, and you can manipulate it at will. Which means that as the world becomes more addictive, the two senses in which one can live a normal life will be driven ever further apart. SLAC goes right under 280 a little bit south of Sand Hill Road. Economist J. One can't have quite as little foresight as a river. But that constraint has gone now. What I came up with was: someone who doesn't expend any effort on marketing himself. Investors have no idea that when they maltreat one startup, they're preventing 10 others from happening, but they were more visible during the Bubble is ipso facto unfashionable.

Notes

The actual sentence in the US treat the poor worse than Japanese car companies have little to bring to the extent this means anything, it was raise after Demo Day, there would be to advertise, and his son Robert were each in turn means the slowdown that comes from. The solution is to hand off the task to companies via internship programs.

I'm not claiming variation in wealth in a way that weren't visible in the long tail for sports may be that surprising that colleges can't teach students how to deal with them in advance that you decide the price of an audience makes people feel confused and depressed in their heads, which would cause other problems. 5 was released. At some point has a significant cause, and journalists—have the perfect life, and the company's PR people worked hard to answer the question of whether public company not to have moments of adversity before they ultimately succeed. They also generally say they bear no blame for opinions expressed.

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