#fun fact this video was sent to me in an email at work
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#im just obsessed with this video..... his run at the end........#fun fact this video was sent to me in an email at work#another intern sends weekly influencer marketing trend emails to the whole firm#and its so funny#i get weekly emails of tiktoks she finds funny and i cant complain because i also find them funny
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Affection | Vox x Fem!Reader
Summary: Vox and Valentino get into it. Vox looks for a way to get payback and stumbles upon you. He didn’t expect you to actually care.
Warnings: sex work, a bit of a mommy kink
He was used to the petty yelling, the constant spats, even the object throwing. What crossed the line was when he had to replace his screen.
Vox and Valentino got into a lot of arguments, normally started by the latter instead of the former. This one was bad though. Vox didn’t even want to think about it but it was all that was on his mind.
He was angry.
He was angry because it was easier to be angry rather than something else, something more vulnerable. He didn’t want to and couldn’t afford to be vulnerable right now. He had to hold onto this anger so he didn’t go crawling back to Valentino.
Currently, he was at his desk, looking through documents about ads that were just waiting for Vox’s stamp of approval. He stumbled upon yours and he paused.
He recognized you. Why?
He copied your name into a search bar and looked at your Sinstagram profile. Flipping through the pictures, he found one of you at a bar and that’s when he remembered.
Valentino tried to contract you and you’d basically laughed at him. You’d tossed back a shot and then turned to Valentino, asking if he needed you to pay for it since he was clearly so desperate for new recruits as he was only preying on people too stupidly drunk to realize how bad of an idea it was to say yes. Oh, he remembered Valentino seething that night.
He approved your ad but he couldn’t get you out of his head. He opened the closed tag again as he actually read through your ad.
You were advertising music. Which, when say side by side with your Sinstagram made sense as he saw a picture of you with Verosika Mayday. There wasn’t really anything interesting on the advert.
He scrolled up to the top of your Sinstagram in order to look at them in order from most to least relevant. That is when he caught sight of a link in your bio. He clicked it.
He was brought to a website. He wasn’t sure what he expected but he did raise an eyebrow nonetheless. It was an escort sight. A home page that had you and several other people scantily dressed with a description of what every person and the services you offered.
Maybe he was being more vindictive than he thought because he immediately clicked on the tab that sent him to your page and booked a time with you.
It was far out, months away in fact. He honestly had forgotten about it until he got an email the week before asking if he was still available and inviting him to a pre-session consultation. Not willing to back out and have it potentially mess with his image, he made the time.
He logged into a video call several days later and was greeted with you in the middle of putting on your makeup.
“Well, hello, Mr. Vox,” you said with a soft purr. He replied with a formal greeting of your name. “You’re a busy guy and I’m a busy gal so I’ll keep this quick. This is just a little meeting for boundaries. I know it bothers some people to make them in person so I’ve found this to be an easier way.
“I’ll go first. No hickies, no bruises, no scratches, no cuts, no burns, just no marks. It might be pretty and fun in the moment but it costs me later. Not everyone enjoys having sex with someone who’s clearly had it with someone else not long before. It may be part of my work but people do like an illusion.
“I don’t do bondage where I’m the one tied up. It’s nothing personal, just a safety issue. On the topic of safety, if you bring in anything that could be used as a weapon. I’m done and you’re leaving. All I need from you is that pretty little body of yours and payment. I’ll provide the rest.
“On the topic of payment, I know you’ve already made your upfront payments for this little consultation. The rest can be brought when you come in cash. Any questions so far?”
He surprised himself by saying, “Not so far, no.”
You we’re far more thorough than he thought. He’d bought time before but it was never this professionally done, even by Valentino’s standards. Granted, with Valentino’s sex workers, there was really only one rule, payment upfront. He didn’t give a fuck about anything else.
You though? You had clearly given this a lot of thought on all parts.
“Good, I’m glad,” you said. “Those are my hard rules. Everything else is a little more flexible. So, tell me, what is it you want from tonight?”
“To have a good time.”
“Of course, we all want to have a good time, Vox, but I’m talking specifics. Don’t be naive,” you said. “I have full confidence you know better. Maybe it’d be easier if I told you what I’m best at.”
The lid of your lipstick clicked closed. You looked at the camera, looking at him directly on his screen by proxy, for the first time.
“I can do just about anything your cold, dead heart desires but I enjoy specific things more than others. I’m a bit of a dominatrix, I’d you will. I enjoy the power and control of giving people what they need instead of what they want. How does that sound to you?”
“It sounds to me like a very overlord thing to do,” he replied.
“Not there yet,” you said. “So, is that the role you prefer to play?”
“It’s one I play often.”
“Yes, I’ve gathered that but do you prefer it?”
Vox didn’t know why he didn’t just say yes. He should have. It went with his image to say yes and that’s why he was still agreeing to do this even though he and Valentino weren’t on the worst of terms right now.
He hadn’t crawled back to Valentino yet. It’d been one of their longer spells away from one another. Five months without even falling back into bed once.
Perhaps that’s why he said what he said. He was pent up. He hadn’t had time to unwind and the person he normally would go to for that he was still upset with. That’s the reason he’d go with anyway.
“It’s the role I play most often,” he said.
“But is it the role you like?” you asked. When he didn’t answer you smiled, a more genuine one than any flirty or sarcastic one you’d shot his way before. “Stubborn, I’ll keep that noted.”
“I am not—“
“You’re proving my point. Now,” you stood up and rummaged through a drawer he couldn’t see, “pick a set for me.”
For the next several hours, Vox felt like he couldn’t focus. He was nervous. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been nervous over a one night stand.
He left early, leaving his assistant with double the workload but he didn’t care. He just needed to be out of the building.
He took Vark out on a walk to pass time but it still went by so slowly. It took what felt like days for it to finally be time to leave.
He’d call it considerate that he left without his usual suit jacket, waistcoat, and tie but in reality, he felt so hot, constricted with them on.
He traveled through the cameras and arrived at the address he’d been given, not a single person having seen him.
He knocked on the door and that sense of security was promptly shattered when it opened and he heard someone say, “Holy shit!” in response to seeing him.
He glared at the offending person as he stepped in. He recognized them from being pictured on your website. They quickly spun around and continued doing whatever it was they were in the process of.
He was led to a room which when opened revealed you inside. You were wearing a shear robe that gave him a peak at what was hiding underneath.
“I was promised secrecy,” he said. “Not to be gawked at by the employees.”
“So you don’t want to be gawked at me?” you asked. You smiled at your own joke. “Everyone here is under contracted lock and key to not say a single word about what goes on inside these walls. You’re image will be fine.”
“Contracted?”
“You said I had the makings of an overlord,” you replied. “Why are you suddenly surprised that I have contracts? Don’t worry, I assure you they’re much more ethically sourced than your co-worker’s.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Speaking of,” you said as you took several steps towards him, “why are you here? I’d imagine you could have any of Valentino’s contracted cash free. Why waste it on me? I’m not exactly cheap.”
You held out your hand and he reached into a pocket to retrieve the other part of your payment. You swiftly began counting it.
“You fuck one of Valentino’s pets, you’ve fucked them all,” he said. “They’re all too scared to be any fun after a while.”
“As much as I know that’s a true statement—“ you put the cash in a drawer of the bedside table— “I don’t believe it.”
He felt his eye twitch. “And what exactly would you—“
“Why don’t you take off your shirt and lay on the bed?” You walked towards him and ran your hands up his torso. “Or I could take it off for you.”
You began unbuttoning his shirt and for some reason, it made him drop all his irritation. When you finished, you bent down and licked all the way up his torso. You kissed and nipped at his collar bone.
His hands went to your sides but you spatted them away. The shirt fell to the ground.
You looked up at him, like you were daring him to kiss you. However, when he went to do just that, you stepped away.
“On the bed face down, mister,” you told him.
He huffed. Despite his mind telling him to grab you and pull you in for a kiss, take you and remind you of who exactly you were messing with, his body followed your instructions.
The mattress dipped as you straddled him. Something popped open (he tensed), a bottle clinked as it was set on the table, and then the sound of you rubbing your hands together went through the air.
Your hands, warm against his skin and slick with oil, began to rub up and down his back.
“Why are you here, Vox?” you asked. “I’m not stupid. I keep up with the news. Did you think I wouldn’t notice that the day you made an appointment was the same day you updated your status to single again? It’s still single now so what happened?”
“Nothing happened,” he said.
“Uh-huh, and the fact that you visibly tensed as soon as I mentioned Valentino is just a coincidence,” you said. “Everything you say in these walls stays within them.”
“You’re the one who made the contracts,” he said. “You’re not under them.”
“True, but—“
You began to apply pressure with your thumb, grinding your thumb and hand in circles along his back.
“Oh, fuck.”
“—I also made them,” you said, basically repeating his words. “It means I place value in confidentiality.”
“Or covering you’re own— oh, fuck, right there— your own ass.”
“I could be.”
You leaned down and he felt toy trap his entire torso beneath you. He liked the feeling. He liked the feeling of you over him.
You got close to his face, “But I think we both know I’m not.” You moved back and he mourned the feeling as soon as it was gone. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. You’re just very obviously tense and not just physically.”
You punctuated your sentence by rolling the palm of your hand at the base of his neck before squeezing it lightly. He couldn’t hold back a moan at the feeling of some tension leaving his body.
You continued on like that in silence for a while. You were working out the knots in his muscles and he was basically putty beneath your hands.
He’d never been treated like this before. He had couldn’t remember the last time he felt loose. There was always some kind of feeling of unease he constantly carried.
He didn’t even know he needed this because he’d never known that he could have it.
You leaned to once again lay over him but this time he could feel the entire weight of your body instead of just your warmth. You wrapped your arms underneath his shoulders and placed a kiss to his neck.
“Are you alright to continue?” you asked him as you nuzzled against his shoulder blade.
“I—“ He tried to search for some witty or snarky remark to make but all he could come up with was, “Yes.”
You cooed at him and slipped your hands out from underneath him to rub his back as you got off him. “Using your words, what a good boy,” you said and he hated, hated how that made him feel so warm inside. “Can you turn around for me? Yes, good.”
He closed his eyes and refused to look at you. You laughed but it didn’t feel mean. That didn’t make him feel any less embarrassed, however.
You did a wider, full handed version of the back massage you’d given him to his front as you began to roll your hips against his. He couldn’t hold back a whine.
“Oh, so pretty,” you said. “Such pretty noises from such a pretty boy.”
“Fuck,” it came out weak and pathetic.
Well, it was fitting then because that’s how he felt, weak and pathetic. Such simply praise shouldn’t be so effective.
“How does that feel?” you asked. “Come on, be a good boy. Tell me. Tell me how to make you feel good, baby.”
You were kissing on his neck and shoulders now.
“Good,” he choked out.
You hummed against his skin.
He could feel his fingers flex. His arms moved. He stopped them. He wanted to touch. He should be able to touch. He should be able to do what he wanted. He was the fucking Vox, overlord and creator of the biggest tech company in Hell. He shouldn’t need permission to do something.
You grabbed his hands and brought them up to the knot of your robe.
“You can touch me, baby,” you told him.
A whine forced its way out of his throat no matter how much he tried to keep it at bay.
He opened his eyes and you were so beautiful, grinding against him like you were made to. He could feel his cock straining against his pants. He wanted them off.
He settled for untying your robe. It fell to reveal the deep blue set he’d chosen for you earlier that day. It was sheer enough to show off your nipples through the cross crossed pattern of the bra. There was a silver chain that draped between the cups and further framed your breasts. Some traps went around your torso as part of the garter belt which held up your similarly colored stockings. You looked gorgeous.
You laughed and guided his hands up to your waist. Then up to your tits.
“I love the way you keeping whining for me,” you said. “You’re like a little pup.” Your eyes honed on his neck and your hand followed your gaze. You pressed on his neck, just enough to add some pressure. “That neck of yours looks like it was made to be collared and leashed.”
“Oh fuck.”
You leaned closer to his face. “Would you like that, baby?”
His fingers twitched around your breasts. He rubbed his thumbs over your clothes nipples as a silent apology. “Please.”
“Oh, such good manners.” You applied more pressure to his neck, not enough to cut off his air supply. He arched into your touch. “But not tonight. Some other time, I promise. I’ve got a feeling I’ll be seeing you plenty, baby.”
You went to nip at his neck. His hands wrapped around to your back to hold you in place. Your own traveled down his torso and to his belt.
You undid it. You pulled down his pants but not his underwear. You slipped from his grasp.
You put your hands on either side of his bulge and ran your fingers over it. His legs spread open further as he tried to push up but you quickly put an end to that little action.
Your hands on his hips, you hovered your head over him. You licked a stripe onto the fabric. You began to suck him off with the barrier of his boxers.
He knew he was whining. His eyes wanted to screw shut but he kept them open, too transfixed by the visage before him.
Your own eyes were closed. Your hands, perfectly constraining his boxers, were wrapped around his hips. The tips of your perfectly manicured hands were digging into his skin. Your tongue lulled out and lavished him.
He could cum from just this alone.
However, as soon as the thought came to him, you pulled away.
“No, no, no, please, please, let me come,” he said, words flowing from his mouth before he could stop them.
“Aw,” you said with a chuckle, “begging so soon? How sweet. Don’t worry, baby, you’ll get to come soon. I’ve just got to see that little dick of yours first.”
The small bit of degradation mixed with all the praise made him twitch.
He’d never gotten any negative comments on his dick before. Rather the opposite, Valentino had tried several times before to talk him into at least faceless camera work but he didn’t want to think of the moth right now.
You pulled his underwear down to reveal his cock. It was length, a deep blue like the rest of him except were it was flushed vibrantly at the tip. He was already leaking pre-come. Milky white against his flesh.
You leaned over to lick it up. His eyes rolled back at the simple action.
Your smirked before you took him all your mouth at once. You slowly pulled up and let your teeth pull at the hood of his tip.
“Shit, shit, shit!”
He thrusted up into what was now just air as he twitched, his whole body convulsing but he didn’t come. He was on the verge though.
You shushed him as you stroked his inner thigh with your nails.
“Be a good boy for me and hand me the lube,” you said before you began sucking on the skin above his pelvic bone.
His hand went to your hair as he closed his eyes and moaned. It took him a moment to open them again but you didn’t seem to mind. He didn’t feel rushed.
When was the last time he hadn’t felt rushed while having sex? He couldn’t even remember. It was always about getting back to work as soon as possible or Valentino’s quick hits. It was never really about him. It was about getting rid of his boner or Valentino’s as soon as possible.
He liked this. He liked this feeling of. . . being cared for?
God, he was so fucking pathetic. He could feel tears filling his eyes as he reached for the lube on the bedside table.
“Are you alright, baby?” you asked. “Do you need to stop.”
“Fuck, please don’t.”
“Okay, we don’t have to stop. We can keep on going,” you said as you poured some lube into your hands. “You just keep on being a good boy for me, alright? You can cry if you need to, baby. It’s okay to cry, you know.”
That permission made it worse. He felt his face flush as tears began to stream down his face. This was pathetic. He was pathetic. He shouldn’t be crying. He’d rarely ever cried. Much less during sex, especially sex that he was enjoying.
“Can you bend your— oh, such a good boy,” you said.
You hooked his bent knees over your legs and pulled him into your lap.
You wrapped your hands, covered in warm lube (when was the last time someone had took the time to warm up lube before touching him?), around his cock and began slowly twisting your hands up and down. He couldn’t stop the weak thrusts.
“I’m sorry,” he said, repeating the phrase like a prayer.
“Shhhh, baby, it’s okay,” you told him, petting his thigh. “You take what you need. You’ve been so good for me. So good. You deserve it.”
“Fuck.”
He threw his head back against the pillow and then looked down at you. He immediately met your eyes, so soft and understanding. It made his stomach queazy.
He watched as his dick slowly was covered then revealed by your hand. It curved around him so perfectly, glistening with a mixture of lube and the pre-come he was leaking. You twisted your hand in just the right way.
You covered his cock and then revealed the head. You thumb lingered and smeared the pre-come at his tip. The point of your nail ever so gently grazed his hole and that’s what did it.
The lights flickered in the room as he spasmed and came. His screen went blank as he blacked out.
A few seconds later, he came to with you by his side with a glass. You tilted his head up and cupped your hand under his lips as you forced him to drink, any water that spilled was dropped in your hand.
You grabbed a cloth and wipes at his screen.
“Are you okay, baby? Was that good?” you asked and he could only mutely nod. “Good.”
You went to pull him into an embrace but stopped and looked down at your body. “Do you wanna clean me up or do you want me to do it?”
He followed your gaze and saw his come covering your torso, a bit of it even clinging to your bra. He leaned to lick it off you. You reclined onto the thrown of pillows and let him, stroking his shoulders and arms as he did.
He licked up to your bra and then was met with the rough contrast of the lace-like fabric compared to your smooth skin. He reached around and undid the bra. You let it fall and he licked where the come had been. Then he began sucking on your breasts.
“Oh, fuck,” this time it was you.
Spurred on, he reached down between your thighs and began stroking. You were wet, so fucking wet. His fingers slid through your folds with no hint of resistance.
He rolled your clit between two knuckles.
“Oh, so good for mommy,” you said as you continued petting him. “So good.”
He whined at both the praise and the title you had given yourself.
He began stroking you with a different purpose now. He needed you to come. He looked up at you, still sucking on your tit. He needed to see it.
Your breath quickened. Your pets turned into a tight hold. It was your turn to whine as your head rolled back and your mouth lulled open.
“So good! So good for me, baby, just like that,” you said right before you became incoherent. You groaned and moved up into his touch.
He went back to the tower feeling better than he could ever remember. The set you’d worn tucked into his pant pocket. You insisted, saying you had plenty of other sets. Who was he to refuse?
“Where the fuck have you been?” Velvette asked.
“Out,” he said as he walked passed her, in no mood for her screeching.
“For over two hours with your location turned off? You didn’t even answer your fucking phone,” Valentino said, voice raising to nearly as yell towards the end.
“Yes,” Vox said as he continued walking.
He heard Valentino laugh as he must have seen the lingerie set in his back pocket. “Were you really so busy fucking a hole that you couldn’t answer me? I hope they were good.”
“Better than you ever were,” Vox said before he closed his bedroom door, unwilling to let his lax mood be ruined.
A few months later, Vox was still going to see you. Absolutely hooked and you both knew it but so were you. You didn’t even made him pay but he still slipped money into your pocket or your bra so he wouldn’t have to face the fact that he was getting attached.
That was all thrown out the window when you released a new song. He wasn’t even halfway through watching the music video before he disappeared and found you, pulling you in for a bruising kiss and you knew exactly why.
The imagery in the music video was obvious. Pink smoke trying to creep into your studio only to be blocked, a deep blue body, TV screens everywhere. Then there were the lyrics:
I can give my babe affection without any type of infliction
You were just an intermission but I’m the center of attention
I’ve got him collared and leashed right where he needs to be
He’s down on his knees begging me with please
Better than any of his fantasies
Yeah, I’ve got his attention without infliction
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FML: Process Heavy
It started off so simply. A friend emailed me a link to a YouTube video promising to teach me about how to get some quick muscle. We had been swearing for months we were going to get on a consistent schedule to go, we just never did. I watched the 20 minute long video quickly. I hardly even noticed when it was over. But I felt energized enough to go on a run. That’s how it would start. I would watch the next video in the series and time would simply slip away. 20 minutes. 30 minutes. An hour. I started noticing changes, little things out of place. My water bottle half drunk in my car. Tee shirts in the laundry when I swore I washed them. Some new supplements I didn’t remember buying. It wasn’t until I popped one on Friday night and came to Monday morning fresh from the shower that I really started to get concerned.
At that point, I began noticing the physical effects. My previously smooth body had begun sprouting hair all over: my chest, my face, my arms, my ass. My voice easily dropped two octaves, deep and bellowing. And the muscle. They were not joking about growing muscle quick. My arms swelled as biceps, triceps, and forearms strained against my taught skin. Abs formed a cobblestone path down to a deep V. Firm pecs we’re established, but not for long. They continued to swell and stick out, heavy and juicy. They were almost hypnotic, the way they would jiggle as I walked. But that was nothing compared to my butt. Bubble would hardly describe it, they were pillow-like. A soft mix of muscle and fat filled out a rear that you could bounce a quarter off. Every part of me swelled and filled with power. That was when the smell really set in. No matter where I was, what I was doing, or how much I would wash I would catch this smell coming off of me. It wasn’t bad, in fact it was deep and masculine in a way that I couldn’t quite describe, but it drove me wild none the less. And I wasn’t the only one. Other bros around me would kind of drift off into their own worlds, with a distinct outline pushing against their pants. I’m not kidding dude, my boss drug me into a meeting last week. He started complaining about how my work was slipping but after just a few minutes he was basically in his own world as he just kinda leaned back in his chair and let it all hang out. I asked if I could go and he just kinda waved me off. There was a faint moan behind me as I closed the door.
At this point whole days were slipping by before I even registered they had started. It was this weekend that I somehow came to during one of my episodes. I was in the sauna in a gym I didn’t recognize. Two bros were in there, zonked out of their minds on my scent. But I realized that wasn’t all. In their state, laid back, sprawled on the bench, mouths hanging open, I saw a stream of liquid dribbling out of one guys mouth. Thick and viscous, I immediately knew the sight of jizz. I stumbled out of the room, leaving my towel behind. I texted my friend who sent me the videos in the first place. I hadn’t seen him since this had all began and I needed answers. I felt my scent catch up with me, tickling at my brain to go back into whatever trance I had been under. I wrapped a fresh towel around my nose and threw on the stringer top, shorts, and sandals I had in my locker. When had my feet grown so big? Free balling, I stormed out to my car and drove towards my friend’s place. When I arrived, the door was almost suspiciously unlocked. Who greeted me inside though was not the curly-haired, lanky, nerdy friend I knew.
He was ripped, oozed confidence, and passed a beer into my hands before I could even process.
“What, not what you were expecting? You didn’t think I would let you have all the fun did you?”
I knew then that this was all his design, his plan for me. I wanted to leave but, every small twitch of this man mesmerized me. Instead, he pushed me onto the couch, covered in his sweaty workout gear, and I began to sip on my beer. He looked me up and down, assessed me like a piece of furniture he wasn’t quite sold on.
“Well, I think you’ve processed long enough. I think it’s time to see what all that training has done.”
He pulled his shirt off and sat facing me in my lap. I was glued to my seat as this man tore my top off of me and pressed our exposed bodies together. My mind tried to to resist but my body betrayed me, as he raised my chin, slid his hand around my neck, and pulled my lips to his. I was enraptured. Our tongues danced as he began exploring my body with his hands. Quickly, he had my arms thrown behind my head as sweat trickled from my pits. He buried his face in and gave them a good sniff.
“Fuck babe, you’re ripe. Not as ripe as these though.”
He threw an arm back and guided my face to his pit. If my scent was good his was pure heroine. It consumed my mind as I felt my cock strain against my shorts. As I worshipped that stench, it kept growing and throbbing. My mind shut down, giving into raw pleasure. Nothing else mattered, I could live on this high alone. In this state, he pulled me out of his pit and asked:
“You want to live like this? You want to be controlled by your master’s scent?”
Fuck I did. Anything, I begged him, please. He gave me one last kiss as he walked out of the room, a video now playing on the TV.
“Then watch”
I felt myself slowly draining. A familiar voice droned out of the speakers, and I was throbbing for the release he would give me. In moments I was floating on nothing but the instructions of my master, and the scent of his used jockstraps lying around me…
Anyone who met you now would have never guessed how you started. A scrawny guy, stressed day in and day out at your corporate job, and cripplingly lonely. Any memories you had of that life were left somewhere in an apartment, nothing but dried cum on the floor and wall. The new you was sexy, outgoing, and confident. You worked out non-stop and did everything your master said to. You are dumb and obedient, with not a thought behind that flirtatious wink. But above all, you are horny. And guys can smell it. They can’t do anything but relax and submit, prostates being milked as they moan for more. The best get brought home and watch a few videos before being sent out into the world. Flex, fuck, propagate.
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You and Me
Shuri x fem reader, Riri x fem reader
Summary: You're tired of being Shuri's fun girl and decide to cut her loose for her best friend. A girl that shows you how you should really be treated.
Don't listen to what people say bout you and me...
"I will never be enough for you, just say it!" You screamed, you couldn't believe this was where you were. You'd spent a whole year chasing Shuri, being supportive, holding her down, being understanding, being patient.
"Why must you always do this when I go back?" Shuri sighed, as she sat on the edge of the bed and bent to pull her sneakers on.
"Always?" You scoffed. Was she serious? When had you ever been honest and open with her about your needs and wants? The most you'd done was ask her to visit more or call more and apparently that was too much.
"Yes! Texting, Calling, Emailing, you're too needy. The whole point of this was fun. No strings attached." Shuri hissed, she was annoyed with just how much attention you needed.
"No strings attached but you come here like a little bitch every fucking month to see me?" You reminded her. She constantly was off doing her own thing, yet whenever she felt lonely you were all of a sudden a priority.
"Who's a little bitch Y/n?" She demanded, getting up and stalking towards you. She towered over you, her face the picture of anger.
"You!" You repeated. You weren't backing down for anybody. She had already trampled on your feelings, she wasn't about to check you.
"Careful, My love." She chuckled darkly. Her eyes held a look of contempt that made you feel smaller than you already were.
You opened your mouth to say something then paused to take a deep breath. You needed to say everything you'd planned on saying prior to her visit. You despised the fact that she was able to melt your thoughts away with one look let alone a touch.
She'd come and right when you wanted to get on her about her bullshit, she picked you up, and fucked you against the wall before carrying you to your bed.
"It doesn't matter what I have to say. You don't care. You never will." You snort, tears forming in your eyes. "Goodbye, Shuri."
"Are you done.?" She shook her head.
"Get out. And do me the favor of pretending like I don't exist like you normally do but make it permanent." You said, brushing by her and heading for your bathroom. You didn't have the strength to watch her leave.
The moment your front door slammed you let the tears fall that you'd been holding onto. The urge to run after her and beg her to come back, to love you, to give a fuck was strong but you knew she would never care for you the way you deserved.
You thought back to all the videos you'd seen on social media of her with other girls, her partying all the time and being irresponsible.
The more you thought of her antics, and the constant disrespect and disregard she'd shown you the angrier you became. You took several deep breaths to calm yourself. Crying wouldn't do anything for you. You'd spent months crying.
You decided karma was better. If Shuri wanted to play with your emotions and act like you were insignificant, you would show her. You were going to mirror her actions but take it further so it hit harder.
Wanna come over? - Y/n
You sent the text quickly, a response coming through as quickly as the text was received. You took a quick shower, washed you face and pulled your locs into a messy bun before cleaning up your bed. You'd just changed the sheets before you heard the sound of your front door opening.
She had a key. You'd given it to her so she could come over whenever she pleased. Having met her through Shuri, the two of you quickly became friends. You saw more of her then you'd seen Shuri which was saying something considering they 'worked' together.
"What's good, mama?" She greeted, as you walked out into your living room to see her chilling on your sofa. There was food and drinks on the coffee table.
"Nothing. Your little buddy just left." You said to be petty. You moved to sit beside her.
"Shuri is taller than me, older than me and stronger than me. There ain't nothing little about that woman." Riri scoffed, incredulously.
"Shut up and feed me." You ordered, staring her down. She rolled her eyes before opening the pizza box and feeding you a slice.
"You're more than capable of feeding yourself." She pointed out even though she still gave in. At times you wondered why you hadn't met her first. She was always there for you no matter what.
She babies you, spoils you, makes herself available for you to rant without trying to defend Shuri, comforts you. At times you fantasized about being with her instead of Shuri but because you loved Shuri and wanted things to get better and knew that Riri was Shuri's only friend you tried to pretend things were working.
If you were being honest you put up with a lot of Shuri's bullshit because of Riri. She came with Shuri and you feared that you'd lose her if you cut Shuri loose or if you tried to pursue her. She was loyal to a fault, she would never purposely betray anyone she cared about.
"So I take it you and Shuri are still disconnected?" Riri questioned, she knew all about your issues with Shuri. Though she never gave an opinion on anything it was clear as day in her eyes that she didn't approve.
"Completely disconnected. We're done." You shrugged, as you leaned over to grab your drink and sip it.
"Done?" It's almost like she doesn't believe the words that have left your mouth.
"Done, finished, never happening again, Over--"
"Ok, I get it." Riri muttered, cutting you off. She watched you through conflicted eyes. This wasn't what she'd anticipated when she got your text. She was sure you'd need someone to vent to, never did she think you'd actually stop messing with Shuri.
"How do you feel about that?" She wondered, clearing her throat as she avoided your eyes.
"Free." Is all you said. You had decided no more tears, no more thought was going into Shuri. Your best revenge was moving on, completely ignoring her existence. That would hit harder than anything you could say or do to spite her.
"What changed for you?"
"I realized that I care about someone else more than I did her and that I deserved better, more." You explained. Your throat felt tight as you spoke. "I stayed with Shuri for so long because she was the easier option, being hurt by her was easier than admitting what I really wanted that had the potential to blow up in my face."
"What do you want?" Riri looked at you, her face stoic. She wasn't sure how to feel, to know you'd been with Shuri and took all that disrespect was crazy. And then to hear you liked someone else...
"You..."
"Y/n..." Riri's eyes widened. Surely you hadn't just said her.
"I could never be happy with Shuri. You made that clear to me from day one. You put me first, you check on me, you're always there when I need you, You show me just how high the bar is set." You tried to convince her. You needed her to understand.
"Shuri is my best friend." Riri sighed. "I'm the only person she has left to count on besides her brother's girlfriend and child."
"Tell me you don't feel anything for me then..." You plead. You knew she couldn't. Her actions spoke louder than her words.
"I have love for you y/n, who wouldn't. You're a great friend and an amazing person..." She didn't believe the words she was saying despite her effort of trying to make you believe them.
You felt angry, you knew she was lying. She cared about you more than she was admitting. There's no way she'd do so much, be around so much if she didn't.
"So you don't care that before I called you here, Shuri fucked me senseless?" As the words came out, you felt guilty at the look on her face.
Riri swallowed. She didn't like thinking about the fact that Shuri was able to touch you in ways she couldn't. That she was able to have you any way she wanted. She knew she had no right to feel that way, just having those thoughts was fucked up.
"That I let her fuck me like a whore. That she made all my self respect go out the window the moment she touched me?" You provoked her, wanting her to admit that she liked you. Wanting her to put what she wanted first over her friend who clearly didn't give a fuck about anyone but herself.
"Y/n." She snapped. You'd never heard her say your name like that. That tone had you crossing your legs and swallowing hard.
"Do you think Shuri gives a fuck about you enough to not go after someone you used to deal with let alone someone you were currently with?" You continued. "Weren't you the one that said she only reached out whenever she was lonely, that her friendship was hard to maintain at times because she pushed everyone away the moment things got too overwhelming?"
"Stop it." Riri groaned. She couldn't afford to think like this. The last thing she needed was to be Shuri's enemy, they were friends, they worked together often AND she belonged to a powerful nation while allied to yet another powerful nation.
You decided to act on instinct and pulled the oversized shirt over your head and slide off your panties. You watched as Riri's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. You knew your body was attractive, you had a natural body with curves and stretch marks.
You straddled her lap and watched as she quickly tucked her hands underneath her. You could tell she was trying to keep her composure.
"Don't you want me?" You pouted, your lips trailing her jawline.
"Y/n, please." She pleaded.
"I want you..." You whined, sticking out your tongue and licking along her jawline to her ear and sucking the lobe into your mouth. She shivers underneath you and her breath hitched.
"Do you really not want me?" You continued pushing her. You could feel your wetness slicking your thighs and you ground your hips into her.
"Fuck!" She hisses when you take her hand and slide it against your soaked pussy. She makes a strange sound as she feels just how much you want her.
"Maybe I need to call Shuri back if you don't know what to do with me...." You act like you're pulling away and something snaps in Riri.
She grasps your throat in her hands and pulls you so close your lips are touching.
"If being fucked like you're nothing and left is what you want you can call Shuri and play the childish, toxic ass games ya'll be playing." Her words make you feel small. "If you want someone who will worship you and treat you like the princess you are, then stop the bullshit."
You stare at her unsure of what to say to that. Shuri would have fucked the stubbornness out of you, she'd of made you eat your words.
"Now since you're so dead set on being with me. I'm taking you out. You're not going to just throw pussy my way." Riri made you feel like a school girl with a crush. You could feel heat rising in your face as you fought to keep the smile that wanted to show away.
"I.."
"You've done enough talking." Riri cuts you off. She reaches for your top that you threw off and placed it back over your head.
"Rest up, I have plans for your stubborn ass." Riri demands, and you move off her lap and head to your bedroom with her following.
#shuri x riri#shuri black panther#princess shuri#shuri udaku#shuri smut#shuri x fem!reader#shuri x black!reader#riri x you#riri wiliams x reader#riri williams#riri x reader
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Hello my followers. Today I'm posting something that's not a piece of art I made or a responce to an ask, because I need your help. Several days ago, with the help of my very supportful art teacher, I made a Google account and a Youtube channel as well. She wanted me to post my music on there because she liked it alot and wanted other people to discover it as well. I shared those thoughts too. I also wanted to have a Google account as well because I had one up until 2019 where a phone number being removed caused it to instantly remove my access to the Google account, and thus the Youtube channels I had, which included an earlier instance of a channel dedicated to my music. My most succesful channel only had a slight big over a hundred subscribers.
So I got the Google account, and the Channel set up to where I wanted it and started work on the first upload. It was supposed to a full upload of my album "Suffering Embedded in Logic" with a remastering done by me. I completed the full upload, and even gone through the effort of verifying my account for the purpose of being able to upload a one hour video without hassle. I uploaded it, the copyright checks went through fine, and I uploaded it to the channel. I, obviously considering the big steps I took to getting here, advertised it everywhere, and I wanted to advertise it on this account as well. But then, after a total of three days since creating the account, and not even a day after uploading the video, I was greated to a screen.
It said my video was removed because my account has been terminated. I was obviously very much distressed by this. What could've caused this termination? Why? Was it the full album I posted? Was it something completely different? Did I spent all this time wishing to have a channel again to then be euthanized like that? So I sent an appeal to Youtube regarding my channel.
I got an email confirming that they were looking into the appeal, and that I would get it in around 2 business days.
All well and good, right? Well, I woke up today to this lovely message in my Inbox:
This was obviously shocking to me. In the email regarding my termination, Youtube said my channel had "severe or repeated violations of [their] Community Guidelines". I believe that I wasn't doing anything that could break their Guidelines. What part of the Guidelines I was apparently breaking was not detailed in any way, so in my appeal I said for them to atleast guide me to where in the Guidelines I was breaking these rules, but in their reply not only did they not tell what I was apparently breaking, but doubled down on their decision and are keeping me terminated. Fun little fact, you can only make ONE appeal to them, and no more.
This was infuriating to say the least. Not only did they banned someone who didn't do anything, they didn't even include a reason or anything so at to why they did this. So in their Feedback form thing, I wrote them this:
Please, PLEASE read this fully if you want to see my thoughts on this, but if you really can't, here is a "tl;dr" on my thoughts.
I have 2 working theories that might explain why I was inexplicably banned from this platform. And both arent the brightest in their image.
The first theory I have is that this is all a work of a Bot that just so decided to screw over a person for some false reasoning that it sticked to. This theory is confirmed by several support threads on Google's own support forums regarding this exact issue (which are still being made to this day), the one linked as an example. From there, I saw many a person talk about their channels being unfairly banned for unexplained reasons, including a small martial arts group that were only uploading clips of them. that martial arts group got the reasoning of "spam, deceptive practices, and misleading material" for their ban. I believe their network of bots sometimes falsely flag people and terminate them, and that human support doesn't come to correct these bots for many of the smaller people, resulting in an unfair permanent banning. As such, I proposed for them to give reasons as to why they ban people, as well as up the amount of appeals you can do, as well as for them to make their bots better.
The second theory though has more serious allegations. I don't usually talk about where I live, mostly for privacy concerns and also that I believe you shouldn't give out all your information for strangers online, but I have to talk about it for this part. I live in Russia. I have been living in Russia for my whole life. It isn't the best place to live in my opinion, but I've been stuck on this patch of land since I was born. Ever since the Russo-Ukranian War started, the already somewhat negative outlook of people outside of Russia has dropped significantly, many people from there who catered to people outside of Russia received many threats. One of my best friends, who I like to call Reggie, that is working in a store dedicated to people with Autism, had to stop working in Global markets because there was so much hate for Russians at the time that the Dollar-to-Ruble ratio dropped massively, and it was just too much. Many sites put sanctions on Russian sectors, including PayPal, which led to many Russians who used it to basically be poor. Which leads me to believe this: The reason why Youtube terminated my account with no explanation is because either it's human support is xenophobic, or that Youtube itself is xenophobic. I do not like this though, but I'm more and more convinced that this is the case.
Which leads me to a wider discussion of how Youtube is fundamentally broken. From letting big youtubers to stay on the platform despite them breaking their own rules, to many spam comments and scam accounts that exist solely to harvest subscribers and unsuspecting victims, to the whole ElsaGate debocle an how it returned in BIG amounts with Youtube doing nothing, to innocent channels getting silenced and punished for just existing, I believe that what Youtube meant in "making sure that Youtube is a safe place to all" is that they would make sure that Youtube is a safe place to all the big channels that are making money for them, which include scammers, botted accounts, hacks, and big television networks. I say NO to that. I say
FUCK
YOUTUBE
Youtube has shown to be late to things that should've been resolved way earlier, that they do not care about serious violations of their rules unless it is explicitly called out on Twitter, that they are inherently racist, homophobic, and xenophobic as was shown in many cases prior to this one (CoryXKenshin immediately brings to my mind), and that they will let their biggest cashcows to continue thriving on their platform and giving them money, even if they are the most scummiest creatures of this earth. This should NOT be how Youtube is. It should be a safe community for many people to go about their lives posting things they want to do, knowing they are safe from the threats of people who would gladfully steal their work knowing they are bigger than you and can get away with it or the system not banning them for arbitrary things they dont know. It should be safe for all, but its only safe for the biggest. So I again say
FUCK
YOUTUBE
Please spread my story everywhere you can. Reblog this, crosspost this, blaze it, share it anywhere (but especially on Twitter) you can to let my story be known. Please let everyone know how broken Youtube is, and keep fighting. Even when my Youtube account gets restored, keep. fighting. Keep fighting for the hope that Youtube will FINALLY listen to their cries, and that they will start fixing their shit, because any win we have is one step towards a truly safe place for all. If you have/had any experiences like this, or you live in Russia as well, tell me your thoughts and your story! Hopefully, this will lead to more stories of Youtube being in the wrong, and this will lead to a better future.
Hope you read and understood all of this.
So now that you have read of my channel's unfortunate sudden end, you might be wondering this:
"Well that was sad to hear, but how can I help YOU specifically?"
Glad you're asking that! I would love to have your support in any way. So here are places where you can help!
Tumblr
Obviously, considering you where you're currently are, you can support me here on Tumblr by reblogging and following this blog, as well my side blog @mailyftw! Here I post the art I make, as well as any serious announcements, while on the side blog I like reposting various things and showing whatever doodles I made today. It would be very helpful for me. You can also support me on Newgrounds, it's basically my side art archive, and also a music archive! Speaking of music,
Bandcamp
This is where I primarily upload my music on. I've been making Caretaker-like music since 2020, and I would love for you lot to hear it, espcially since I improved from that time. I may upload the remastered version of the album I mentioned earlier with some new tracks added, since I was planning to do this for a while now. I also host on there my supergroup The Haggstrom's albums. We've had some stuff out for a while to enjoy, infact we're making an album ABOUT the problems Youtube has! We have a dedicated server where you can talk about them and even make a submission for our projects, so if you want to support not only my work but the collective works of many people, you can do so by clicking this sentence! It would be very much appreciated, since work has exponentially slowed down there.
WeVidi and BitView
These two Youtube alternatives is where I currently upload my work to. On WeVidi, I upload content related to my music, particularly my albums. And on BitView I upload everything else basically, including memes and animation (hopefully soon). If you want to support me on there, please make an account on these platform and subscribe and share my videos, it will not only help me to be seen, but also help these revivals to thrive as more people see them. Hopefully, they won't lead to a Vidlii situation! Hopefully.
Socials, also known as "Other"
If you want to support me somewhere else, here are some other places I frequent:
- SpaceHey! It's a revival of MySpace, and it's really great. I'm always on there, and I sometimes make bulletins or blogs. Friend me if you want! I'll accept most people that are sane and like the things I like.
- Discord! Message me at the___messenger and maybe friend me too! Again, I'll accept most people that are sane and like the things I like. If you're one of the "big people", and you want to interview me, go ahead! Though please, link this blog post and the big places I'm in, and be mindful that I don't have the best camera in the world so I'll most likely be doing this in text or on phone.
- Reddit! I'm active on there under Spot_Mark, you can message me if you want. Again, I'll accept most people that that are sane and like the things I like, or people wanting to interview me.
- Escargot! If you are particularly privy, you can message at [email protected]. Once again, I'll accept most people that that are sane and like the things I like, or people wanting to interview me. Note that you'll need an escargot account and a copy of Windows Live Messenger, preferably 8.5, to even begin messaging.
- Anywhere else! I'm on many platforms and places, usually on the smaller side. You can find me under "TheMessengerVEVO" or a similar name on a place. Any support will be thankful.
- I'm considering getting a Boosty account for people to help me monetarily, since we here are basically scraping by, plus the wole PayPal nonsense. Hopefully yall could help when it comes out, if at all.
If you supported me because of this, I have nothing but the biggest thanks for you! I'll try updating you on this situation as it goes on, and hopefully it will result in things actually being done. I'm very scared of whatever might come, and also relieved now that I revealed the whole Russia thing. I wanted to reveal that anyway for the past couple of months. Anyway, I hope this gets big and gets the attention of Youtube!
- May our strength guide us forwards, The Messenger.
#text post#the caretaker#everywhere at the end of time#russia#peace#peace and love#youtube#fuck youtube#please reblog#pls reblog#please share#it would be very much appreciated#drama#2023
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A Matter of Time
At the end of July I was gripped by a sudden fever.
It was the last Sunday of the month. I woke up quite late, had my morning coffee and set up the day’s work on the floor table. It was a very Summer Sunday. The air felt stale on my skin, constantly at the precipice of breaking out into sweat but not quite. It was a helpless time, a dull headache of a day.
I had been in the midst of organising my iMac, Macbook and a new SSD that day. I was facing the renaming and copying of hundreds of folders. It was quite a tedious task and I was restless. I needed a fix. And the thing is I knew exactly where I was headed that day. My imagination always gets the best me, and an idle mind is the devil's workshop, so they say. Reaching out to untouched corners of the past always requires some level of feigning ignorance to the consequences. I knew well enough that I would unravel something but my boredom overrode all discipline, all sense that day. So I found myself meandering through old folders filled with a past version of myself and people I knew in that unrecognisable life. Well, there has to be a truth to it—to the idea that the universe will continue to hurl the same lessons your way, each instance a more violent encounter, unless you learn from it. That Sunday came the final lesson.
Inside a folder named "2019," I found her waiting for me. My dear K, memories of her frozen there like no time had passed. There were screenshots of conversations, photos I recall having sent her. Seeing all of those again was the catalyst for Sunday’s foolhardiness.
I looked her name up, I looked her sisters’ names up. Nothing but old Facebook comments came up and there really was not much I could do at that point as I don’t use Facebook. This should have been the dead end but I’ve always been stubborn. The only thing it did was empower my craving.
So I dug up an old email correspondence. I’ve been avoiding doing this for nearly three years. With a split second decision I’ve undone all that control. The last message was from 2020 right before the worldwide lockdowns started. I had been talking about returning to Japan and she was talking about looking into getting an iPad. How innocent those days were.
I copied the email address I found and composed an email. In under eight hundred words I wrapped my well wishes, my love, my yearning. “Wishing you nothing but the best,” I signed it. I shut my laptop. I exhaled, only realising then that I had been holding my breath that entire time I was writing the email.
In the first few hours since I sent the email there was a heaviness. The problem is that I could not tell if what I had committed meant an end or a beginning. Have I truly mended the fraying edges, given myself closure, or have I ripped open a new wound instead?
Sometime during the following week my ever so efficient iPhone decided to notify me of the fact that I had sent the email a couple of days ago and I had not heard back. It prompted: “follow up” with a button on the top right as if it were that easy. I panicked. I was in a hurry to make it disappear from the screen. I swiped it into oblivion. I would not let myself read it again. In the end it was sad to see it there at the top of my inbox. I suppose that was the moment when I finally understood the reality that our friendship really has missed the last train for good.
It is funny to feel all this longing now because my friendship with K had been a terribly chaotic one.
I remember K as fun, emotionally sensitive and a daydreamer. I enjoyed the memes, the mindless jokes. I enjoyed her sisters always having a funny thing to say. I enjoyed the video calls. I’ve never fit in anywhere but they welcomed me in their circle. I was the honorary fourth sister. I appreciate that when I would be blocked by the loops of logic in my head K would point to my heart and ask about what that part of me had to say. She showed me a side to life that I had often written off. When I was so lost in the grind, never satisfied with the heights I climbed, she underlined the magnitude of my early emancipation, my scholarships and educational accomplishments. In those days I was never enough for myself, but for K I was everything. “You’re my star, my claim to fame,” she always told me. I let her read my honours thesis before anyone else. She tuned in to my undergraduate graduation livestream because I was giving the department valedictorian speech and I was going to be awarded the highest honour of the year. I had no one to attend my graduation. She showed up for me.
But she was also jealous, indirect and shortsighted. She seemed most present when I was going through a crisis, revelling at the realisation that I have problems that I can’t always solve. When I shared my successes she was almost avoidant. She came and went as she pleased, leaving me in the dark to wonder what I had done wrong. She had her sisters as allies at the end of the day, while I’m reminded that I will never truly be part of the family no matter how close I got. I couldn’t care less what her educational attainments were, really, but she certainly measured herself against me and I never knew what to do with myself in those moments. She had dropped out after her first year was stuck in a crammed home with an abusive mother, while I found my liberation as I cut my ties with my own toxic family and went on to pursue a post graduate degree. She told me it was hard for her to be my friend because my accomplishments made her feel small. She was three years older and yet she felt like I had done more with my life. She thought I was too perfect. I took it personally. Her words were weapons.
Being from a toxic household myself, I knew to pick up on the unsaid, the passive aggressive. I knew desperation as an instinct and I held on to everything because I know the taste of favour withdrawn. I sought to earn her approval because then I only understood worth as something to achieve. I contorted into shapes that comforted her. I tiptoed around the good things that happened to me, wary to share them. My good news meant bad news to her after all, and that meant she would be less convinced to keep me around, so I thought. And when I did find myself in trouble it almost felt like relief to both of us. I could run to her with this problem: “Look! I’m flawed and hurt! Here’s something bad that happened to me! I’ve been knocked down and you can feel superior now!” I begged and begged. That proved exhausting, unjust and cruel. The friendship soured. And when I hit rock bottom, when my life crumbled into an unrecognisable mess, when I needed someone the most, turning to her felt like I was twisting the knife myself. There was shame when there shouldn’t have been. I thought insecurity was a price I had to pay to keep her in my life.
This is not to say that I was an angel during our friendship. I had high expectations and I was ruthless in demanding them. I was hungry for proof that I was loved and needed. I was stubborn, too focused on logic and sense that I refused to give emotions any credit at all. I would not communicate until I was at my boiling point, seeing patience as a duty that must be repaid. I was uncaring, insensitive and I thought fixing someone’s situation is the ultimate expression of love. I was heavy handed, harsh. I was not a fun person to be around.
But perhaps what made it all the more painful is the fact that for all our differences we actually had a lot in common. We understand generational trauma. We both know what it’s like to move to a foreign country. We had the same academic goals of learning languages and we value education greatly. We both love literature, romantics in our own ways. We had a shared dream. It wasn’t a very big one but it was ours.
At the end of the day, I don’t think our friendship would have survived. It was always headed for the cliff and it was just a matter of time.
I recall typing in an email to her near the end: “I welcome what will stay to stay, and I let go of what wants to leave without resistance.” Truth is I was partially referring to our friendship with that line. I had tried everything—I had tried harsh, patient, distant, clingy. Nothing I did seemed to get our friendship to keep its head above water. After many false endings and optimistic new beginnings, by the end of the decade I think we both understood that holding on too tightly solved nothing. We both had gone through transformative events at that point. She lost her step-father in a car accident that she herself suffered great injuries from, while I had just finished my master’s yet found myself more lost than I’d ever been, having landed myself in a psychiatric hold. She was on the way to bettering her life, defeating depression and learning to believe in herself again. And I was finally on a slow path to shedding all the past versions of myself, learning to come as I am rather than needing to be someone. We were individually getting better, it seemed. But I suppose that didn’t mean we would get better together.
Reading what I’ve written here, I feel like I’ve come to really understand that I have been grieving this friendship long before it ended. Here I am missing someone who had hurt me and had hurt in return, I feel all this love for her, for the memories. But she isn’t who she used to be anymore. She’s just a stranger now.
I think about K and how she’ll never know me as I am now. My heart is broken. She’ll never know that I can do latte art now, how my music tastes have evolved. She would never get to meet any of my cats. She’ll never hear of my travels. I won’t be there when she gets her first flat. I’ll never get to watch her violin recitals. I won’t know what her cooking tastes like. I’ll never know if she has new favourite books and if she ever changed her mind about Murakami.
The 2019 screenshots that inspired all of this are of a conversation between K and another person who I hurt deeply--J. I told K one morning that I had a dream about him and that after years and years of regret I still hope for his forgiveness. K stepped up and told me she doesn’t mind messaging J on Instagram. They didn’t know each other but she volunteered to reach out on my behalf anyway. After about a month she showed me the screenshots of J’s response—a rejection, a condemnation, my just desserts. I wasn’t surprised really. I hurt J badly. I realised too late how much I love him. I told K I deserved it. But when I was ready to punish myself all over again, K was the one who dusted me off and picked me back up. She said that people change, situations change, and it could really be a new start for me and J if he would just allow a reunion. She said it’s a shame that for all the love we had for each other, J would not allow for a new beginning. Even though I had made that life altering mistake, K reminded me that I am still worthy of redemption.
Those words mean a lot to me.
After remembering all the petty fights, the immature choices and thoughtless remarks, it is in fact this enduring act of kindness that I choose to remember her by, forever and always.
Thinking about it now, I suppose I had always applied that same sentiment to my friendship with K. I always thought that even though we’ve drifted apart, we could always reconnect and start fresh when the time is right. I held on to the hope without realising it. Weeks after my email to her, there’s nothing but fragments of a thread. The thin and brittle thread we kept trying to salvage seem to finally have disintegrated for good—I see this very clearly now, three years after the fact.
Of course there are so many reasons for her lack of response. The most plausible one is that the email she used then must be one of her oldest ones from her teenage years. It wasn’t even her actual name. She could have lost the password or just never thought to check it anymore as she is now using a more current email. Before we lost touch we were getting quite close. She had some financial issues which I was offering to help her with. And she had even floated the idea of flying to the states for the first time to see me. I offered for her to stay at my place. I told her we’d take a road trip. I could drive her anywhere she wanted. We were doing well. I cannot think of what I might have done to I upset her. I don’t believe I’ve given her any reason for her to cut me off.
But it doesn’t matter now.
Time heals wounds but I suppose it also dulls the strongest of emotions. Maybe she just doesn’t feel compelled to keep me in her life anymore.
I’ve been to the UK so many times now and every single time I’ve thought about taking a train to her. Every single time I fought against that idea. I know for sure now that I’ll never set foot in Coventry. I won’t be the one to destroy her peace. But in future, when I find myself in London or elsewhere again, I will choose to think of K and feel gratitude, to have known her, without needing to blame myself for the way our paths diverged.
The idea of this entry was like a geyser inside me. It came in bursts. I thought I would write and publish this in one sitting. It has taken me nearly 20 days. At first it was guilt, anguish for all the shortcomings. I was hurt by the rejection and the delayed realisation. But I have nothing left to mourn now, I think. All I’ve got now is a celebration of what has been.
With this I lay flowers on the grave of our friendship.
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So let's talk about Tokyo Mew Mew New
So first of all, apologies to everyone who followed me for anything else because I’m gonna be reverting back to 13 year old Sam for the duration that this show is going for lol.
Second of all, I’m just honestly ecstatic and my inner child is screeching.
When I first found the original anime, the series had already been finished for like, ten years. An old friend of mine found the first episode on youtube and sent me the link via email. There wasn’t much of an active fanbase in 2013 from what I could see, but I like to think that it was my first internet fanbase. It was also the first anime I was exposed to (aside from a few episodes of Pokémon from a vhs tape back when I was like, 4). I wasn’t much for fanfiction but you can bet your ass that I consumed just about every youtube amv, took about every quotev quiz (and even made a few myself) and dug through every page of google images. A good chunk of my early oc’s came from this show, and I still use most of them (though they are mew mew’s no longer. I might be willing to draw a few of them again with modifications). I have many fond memories of roleplaying and making up stories of said oc’s with my friend (even though we no longer speak), as well as pretending to have a crush on Kisshu because my friend had a crush on him and I wanted to feel like I was hip and cool (I wasn’t). My first official piece of fandom merch was Ichigo’s bell collar, I made my dad buy me the original Tokyopop manga set, and I just recently was able to get myself the first Kodansha manga at a con. I tried to make a Littlest Pet Shop version to post on youtube, using that manga set as the script and stayed up till 3 AM making props and figuring out which of my little plastic figurine’s would be who (fun fact, I got two episodes in and then promptly deleted my youtube channel when people from school found it. I still have the videos on my old laptop. No you cannot see them). I made tons of fanart on drawcast, most of which has been sadly lost to time when the app shut down a year or so ago. I made one of those truth or dare stories that for some reason got really fucking popular (look it up. It’s the first option on google, somehow. No I don’t know how that happened, it’s on wattpad under the user spirit_writes).
I’m super excited to see where this reboot is going to go. I already love how everyone looks and how the characters are being presented. I’m glad Aoyama is more than just a wooden puppet (I never understood the hate for him, but yeah he was a bit bland looking back). I feel for Lettuce, because back in middle school I was her, and sometimes I still feel like her even now. We love our chaotic alien bastard child, and I can already see he’s going to be particularly unhinged and I love it.
Seriously, look at this little shit. Iconic.
I’m curious for Deep Blue's appearance, because he scared the shit out of me as a teen, and I am mildly curious to see how they work with him this time around (I can’t being to explain why he scared me so much, maybe it’s because of those crazy-ass faces he was pulling in those final episodes, maybe it’s because I had a nightmare where he was strangling me to death. Maybe it's because I was a little bitch. But seriously, wtf man).
I can’t wait to see what stays the same and what may change; even though I pretty much know what’s going to happen, it’s like watching it for the first time. It somehow feels very special to see it as it airs and watch the events unfold week by week. I like feeling like I can finally be a part of this series that consumed so much of my life when I was a young teenager, rather than watching it all over a decade after it ended initially.
The first few episodes are definitely promising. I can’t wait to see where we go from here.
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TECHNOLOGY LOG (11/27/2023)
Today, technology has reminded me of its wonders once again. From being able to spend my day with my family to being able to increase productivity when I am most motivated to do school work,
My smartphone has been a very useful gadget to connect me to my loved ones and inform them about our outing in SM City Sto. Tomas. I was able to reach my grandmother and aunt so that I could relay information about the said outing. In this endeavor, the Messenger app has been very helpful and convenient. "That's great!" my grandmother said after hearing the news of our outing. My aunt also said that she would be joining us too.
My grandparents, aunt, and cousins arrived, and we hopped on the SUV where we would be riding. Of course, a long ride would not be complete without accompanying music. "We want Taylor Swift's music." my sister said.
With the help of Spotify and Bluetooth, I was able to connect my phone to the radio. The fun is just starting, but I am already very thrilled!
Oops! We ran into a wall. No one knows the way to Sto. Tomas. So my mother asked me to help her with directions. Fortunately, Google Maps is very accessible, and it has a lot of features. It lets you choose a route that you prefer, depending on traffic congestion. It also displays the ETA as well as the distance traveled.
Everything went well from there, and then we arrived at our destination. The mall provided a fresh breeze and is well-decorated with Christmas ornaments. Of course, I would not forget to take a photo. "Lucky!" I exclaimed because I have my phone camera.
We all spent our day shopping, and we went out to eat at a restaurant to ease our hunger from shopping all day. After everyone was satisfied, it was already time to go home.
We had the same vibe all throughout the ride home. Taylor Swift on the radio, and constant chitchatting with each other. Before we knew it, we had all gone home.
At home, I immediately remembered all the things that I have to accomplish before I go to sleep. I opened my laptop.
I opened Canva to edit the primary label of our drug product in Manufacturing Pharmacy. It took a fruitful hour of editing before I became satisfied with the results.
I saved the photos, then immediately sent them to my groupmates for compilation of the pictures on the labels. I used an emailing app called Gmail to send my classmate the files. As a matter of fact, Messenger does not do justice to saved photos on the platform. Always low quality!
I also did a test run on how the label would come out if I printed it. So I turned on the printer and went on to print the sample labels.
"GOOD TEST RUNS!" I exclaimed. I was ecstatic after seeing the results. At first, I thought the labels would be so small that no one could read them. Fortunately, there is Microsoft Word, which helped me adjust the size of the pictures on the labels. Technology is truly a wonder!
After finishing the label, I proceeded to do other activities, such as answering quizzes and essays in the Canvas app. This is the app where we manage our online modules and courses.
I also use QuillBot to paraphrase my poor sentences into well-constructed ones. This aspect of this AI is very fascinating. I also use this app to check my grammar and spelling.
Moreover, to end my day, I play video games as a stress reliever. I particularly like playing Valorant. It is a shooting game, and I think I have the best aim ever. This game is so much fun to play, especially with online friends. My online friends told me that they were glad I played tonight.
Now that I have had my fun, it is time to sleep. But wait! I almost forgot. I need to set an alarm so that I can wake up on time to get to the bus station. Another weekday, another school day!
That's all for today. Have a good night folks!
CONCLUSION: I cannot live without technology. It has already become my companion in my everyday life, and it will continue to be so that I can increase my productivity with each passing day.
#technology is amazing#Spotify#GoogleMaps#Google#MicrosoftWord#Canva#Canvas#QuillBot#I hate alarms#Valorant#Bluetooth#Messenger
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Outlook Pst Files Get Corrupted, What To Do!
Raid systems can be the best put on weight. They can provide great data protection, enhance efficiency and endure common system problems. It can be a fact though they enjoy any other system, this kind of system also has many loopholes. There are going to times when it can have problems that you choose to can't avoid. Raising can be thanks to failures in multiple drives or in the controller. The system can also are susceptible to a configuration excellent. Of evaer video recorder for skype crack , one other probable problem source is normal human slip-ups. You shouldn't fret so much though. If symantec endpoint protection crack does arise, raid data recovery can be possible.
Apple happens to be working on a new program known as Leopard. This really is going to feature Time Machine which is most likely the the most advanced of the free recovery tools available. These software suites will be built in the operating system so that you can always work on getting your information back quickly besides your hemorrhoids . very little effort. This won't take care of any files you have lost because of your hard drive being damaged though. whatsender pro crack continue to need to gain access to other file recovery programs for this.
Who wouldn't like free data recovery software? For anybody who is broke actually sound just as the ideal cleanser. However, these kinds of recovery tools are limited in what you can recover. So while others sound really appealing in mind, in the end you actually really need is something that works. I encourage you to attempt a few for one's self.
Recovery tools will are your favorite when understand why exactly the data get lost in the first place. Only with that, one shall be able to determine which kind of tool to complete the job since there are different ones for different purposes. Some can restore as well as fix a hard drive, although are used specifically for removable disks, for emails, for software, etc.
I ought to make all efforts possible to recover folks. So later I used one of my friend who was familiar with computer. He told me that there a certain kind of internet data recovery software which been able to recover the deleted files. His words provided me with a tiny bit of hope and i sat with Google and downloaded and tried a lot of of file recovery programs. they recover many photos for our family. But it the pity i did not get back all my photos several recovery photos could not opened or previewed. kept searching and found EASEUS Data Recovery Wizard. Sent an email to their support center as proposed, ohh , their reply lay on my emailbox a very few minutes later!
There are legion different types of recovery operating systems. You should get the one naturally specifically encouraged to work on raid tools. Among the raid data recovery products, there as well some differences but they both basically recover files or restore men and women been mistakenly removed. Chose to are so good that supply perform their work a automated design. They can even scrutinize the raid system before performing any recovery procedures.
You needs to keep in mind that what your needs exactly 're. No matter what happens you should only prefer effective regimens. Make sure you experience this article once. Perhaps it will really in order to a lot in understanding this suggestion. Have fun!
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Since We Were Three (J. Oleksiak)
Summary: What happens when you go work for the Dallas Stars and your childhood enemy plays for them, too?
A/n: Here is a fun enemies to lovers I wrote. This is the first time I've ever written for that trope, but I want to write more so buckle up! Enjoy this!!
Warnings: people doing things enemies do (sorry, that's really vague), mentions of sex, breaking/spraining ankles
Word Count: 12.1k
You didn’t expect to move to Dallas; it wasn’t even on your radar. All you really remember is sitting at your parents' house back home and you got an email from your Linkedin saying that there was a position open for something you were qualified for. You didn’t even bother to look at where it was; you opened the application, read the prerequisites, and filled it out. You were desperate to get a job, so it didn’t matter. Only after you emailed your application did you realize where it was - Dallas. It didn’t even register in your mind at the time that your former neighbor and lifelong enemy lives in Dallas or plays for the Dallas Stars, the organization you just sent an application for. They were looking for someone to work in their marketing department. If you knew that your former neighbor and lifetime enemy was working for the Dallas Stars, then you’d probably not have submitted the application. You decided, however, that the pros greatly outweighed the cons, and you doubted that you’d ever need to interact with the players unless they had a marketing issue. You doubt they would, right?
You got an email three days later asking for an interview. You emailed them back saying that you lived in Canada and weren’t sure if you could make it down for an interview. Thankfully, they said that they’d be willing to have a virtual interview; however, you’d have to be willing to move to Dallas for the job. You knew for a fact that you’d be more than willing to move to Dallas. That wasn’t the problem. So, you and the Dallas Stars’ representative set a time for your virtual meeting. You had the interview, and it seemed like they liked you. You got an email three days later that you got the job; you moved to Dallas three days after that and started four days later.
You completely forgot about the fact that your enemy slash former neighbor was in Dallas until your mother brought it up.
“Hey, yn, you know, you don’t not know anyone in Dallas.” You were confused. You literally moved to a country in which you knew no one.
“Mom, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Jamie, remember him? Jamie Oleksiak. You hated him growing up. Well, remember, he plays for the Dallas Stars. You should contact him.”
The normal warmth in your face immediately drained. Yeah, now you remember. The only reason you had the slightest inkling as to what Jamie was up to was because your mother and his mother were good friends. You don’t care for him at all.
You knew that you couldn’t just outright and tell your mother “no”, so you pivoted. “Maybe,” you said and your mother seemed to think that meant that you’d be reaching out to Jamie. You weren’t. You were going to do everything in your power to try to avoid him. There was no way that someone who worked in marketing would ever come in contact with any of the players, right? You didn’t work in media that was in constant contact with the team, and you didn’t work in anything to do with the contracts or paychecks. As long as you keep a quiet profile, you expect you should be fine, right?
This worked for your first season working with Stars. You were new and a few years out of college, so your more experienced colleagues made sure to observe what you were doing. You were happy with this. Before working in Dallas, you only worked for one small company and you were one of two people in the marketing department. The reason you were looking for a new job was that this company went bankrupt. Yeah, you were grateful for the oversight you received. You made it one year without seeing, hearing, talking to, or being around Jamie. The fact that the two of you were in the same city made your blood boil. You hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being, and you hoped to avoid him as much as possible.
You went into the second season thinking that you’d have the ability to remain anonymous to the team and stay in your lane. This, unfortunately, did not work. You went to work on the morning that training camp started. You sat at your desk and noticed that everyone was quite angsty. You turned to a friend and asked what was going on. She told you that someone from management was coming to find people to work for the GM, specifically, someone in marketing. You knew that you’d be the last one selected considering your lack of experience. You were wrong.
The minute the representative from the GM’s offices walked in and saw your application, you were swept up and taken to their offices. Happy with the new promotion, you didn’t realize that you’d be closer to Jamie.
The notion hit you nine days after you were promoted when Tyler Seguin walked into the office and walked over to you.
“Yn, right?” he says and you nod. “We need someone to fill in with media personnel and they asked for you.”
“Oh!” you say; you had experience in media but not that much to get a recommendation.
“Yeah, they said to be there at 1:30pm.”
“Thanks,” you tell Tyler; he smiles at you and waves.
So you were going to be getting closer to the team than you thought.
. . .
As you walked down the hall towards the locker room, you ran right into the wall. Except it wasn’t a wall.
“Oh, you’re not a wall,” you say mostly to yourself. It was a very hard and firm person.
“So, you’re telling me you would have walked into me also if I were a wall?” You look up and see none other than Jamie Oleksiak looking back at you.
His beautiful eyes made you want to throw up. There was no word to express how much you hated him. Literally just staring at him for a second made you want to run away and scream.
“I, no, I just thought I had more time before I had to turn the corner.”
“Sure,” he says in a voice that makes you want to punch him; however, looking at him, you know it wouldn’t hurt at all and do the damage you wanted. Since when did he get so big? “Hey, Yn. I heard you started working for the Stars organization. Welcome to Dallas.”
“Yeah, no, you’re not my welcome party. And I’ve been in Dallas for almost a year.” You immediately back up but trip over your feet. Jamie instantly reaches out and helps you balance. You feel your face suddenly grow warm. Why did Jamie’s enormously large hands have this effect on you?
“You always were quite clumsy growing up. Tripping and falling for me, I mean in front of me.” Jamie’s joke didn’t go past you. It infuriated you. He liked to think that you were in love with him. You weren’t.
“You know, the only reason I kept on falling was because you kept tripping me. It’s your fault.” You storm away angrily and head to where you need to be.
Jamie smiles after you. “That’s the feistiness that I remember.”
You turn around and glare at him. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be fun.
. . .
You’ve hated Jamie Oleksiak since he tripped you in daycare when you were three years old. The first three years of your life, you didn’t mind Jamie. Your mothers were best friends, and you were both neighbors. Your parents were both ER surgeons and sometimes they had to go in for emergency surgery. This was one of those days. Your father was already working and your mother was called in for emergency surgery, so Jamie’s mother was going to pick you up from preschool. You put on your small, sparkly light purple backpack and followed Jamie and his mother out the door. The minute you were about to cross the parking lot, Jamie stuck his foot out and you tripped and fell on your face. You didn’t immediately feel the pain until Jamie’s mother helped you up and mentioned that your face was bleeding. You touched your face and began to cry. Jamie tripped you purposefully and now your face was bleeding. From that day forward, you hated Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being. How could someone who was supposed to be your friend and care for you purposefully hurt you? Where was the logic in that? Why could Jamie purposefully hurt you unless he didn’t like you? He must hate you to want to hurt you.
It wasn’t just because he tripped you; Jamie began to make your life miserable. From taunting you on the playground to tripping you all the time. It continued into kindergarten and elementary school. Middle school was terrible. He taunted you and made fun of you. He always found ways to make anything you were enthusiastic about a reason to taunt you. He joined clubs because you were in them and so he could bring his stupid with him who would the experience unenjoyable for you. You remember your parents telling you to ignore him and Jamie probably had a crush on you. He didn’t. He just out of nowhere opted to make your life miserable.
It only got worse in high school. As his popularity grew in high school as a result of hockey, he only became more cocky and unbearable. He always found a way to make you miserable. Whenever you had any remote crush or boyfriend, Jamie always swept in and ruined it for you. By the time you graduated and went to college, you were ready to leave the horrors that Jamie brought on to you. You were quite proud of the fact that despite your mothers being friends, you had no idea about anything to do with Jamie’s life. You went to college and built a life that was the exact opposite of the misery that Jamie brought into your life.
. . .
You walk into the locker room and Carrie, one of the other media execs, greets you. “Yn, right?”
You nod. “Yeah, that’s me.”
“We need you to fill in for a few weeks with our media team because one of the media personnel had to leave for a family emergency. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, I mean, I’m not sure how good I’ll be at it, but I’m willing to give it a shot.”
Carrie laughs. “It’s not too hard. You just have to take photos and videos of the team during warmups, practices, and stuff like that. If you know how to use Instagram, then you should be great.”
“Well, then, I think I should be good.”
“We’re going to give you a separate phone to use that you can just keep at your desk in the GM’s offices.”
“Perfect, that sounds great.” You and Carrie continue to talk and work out the little details about your new temporary position. You walked back to your desk in the GM’s offices with a smile on your face. You were happy to have this new position. At first, I didn’t recall to you that you’d have to be in contact with the team. When you heard Jamie’s voice echoing through the halls, your blood began to boil. You definitely weren’t looking forward to having to have to work with him.
. . .
The day after you got the word that you were filling in with the Media Department, you started right away. You were told to sit in the practice arena ready to take photos and videos of the team. As the practice was ending, Carrie asked you to head to the locker room and take one-minute interviews with the players. She gave you the list of players: Tyler Seguin, John Klingberg, Esa Lindell, Roope Hintz, and, much to your disappointment, Jamie Oleksiak. You sighed. You really didn’t want to have to talk to him, but you were going to be professional and try not to let him get to you.
You walk towards the locker room and Carrie tells you to wait a moment; the players aren’t ready. After fifteen minutes of small talk, you and Carrie walk into the locker room. The players that you and Carrie were going to interview were sitting on the bench waiting. You glance around the room and Jamie is looking at you with a curious eye.
“This is yn; she’s filling in for a few weeks as media personnel whilst Tristain is out with a family emergency,” Carrie explains. “Be nice to her please.”
Jamie meets your eye again and smirks. You roll your eyes and some of the players notice with confusion.
“Yn, why don’t you start with Tyler and I’ll start with John and we’ll work our way around?” Carrie explains.
You nod. You glance around the room and take note of who you’d be interviewing. You were going to be interviewing Jamie Oleksiak much to your disappointment. You get through the interview with Tyler, but he stops you before you can move on.
“What’s with you and Big Rig?” Tyler asks.
You smile at him trying to hide your disdain for your former friend. “Nothing, I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”
Tyler laughs. “If you say so.”
You move on and interview Roope next. His interview made you giggle like a maniac behind the camera, and you didn’t notice the glares that Jamie gave his teammate and you.
You finish your interview with Roope and get ready to interview Jamie.
“Hi Jamie, ready for your interview?” you ask professionally.
“Yeah, I am,” he says in a tone that you can’t quite decipher but it’s already got your blood boiling. This wasn’t going to be fun.
“So, Jamie, tell me, what’s been the best part of the start of the new season?”
He puts a smirk on his face and you know exactly what he’s thinking - you’re not going to get an answer you like. “Uh, I’ve liked that I’ve been able to rekindle our companionship.”
You roll your eyes. “That’s not what this is, and you have to give me a different answer.”
Jamie’s answer didn’t go unnoticed by his teammates and they were begging, no yearning, to ask more.
“Fine,” Jamie pauses briefly to think of another question. “I would say just being back with the team and skating with everyone again is probably the best part about the start of the new season.”
You nod and glance down at your list of questions. “What do you hope to get out of this new season?”
“Hopefully a Stanley Cup?” he says and quirks his eyebrows in a way that sends warmth to your face but also infuriates you. You nod in a sign of acknowledgment and Jamie can’t pass up the opportunity to get a rise out of you. “Maybe you, too.”
You instantly drop your notepad and glare up at him. What was his problem? Why was he like this? Jamie should know you hate him, so why does he suddenly think that you two were going to fix the hatred that’s been building for years? Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by everyone in the room. “Can you please stop? Just so you know, I hate you, so whatever fantasy you’re playing out in your mind? It’s not happening, Jamie. Can you please stop making it harder for me to do my job?”
Jamie smirks. He knows he should stop, but he won’t. “I always liked watching you get frustrated at me.”
“Jamie! Just cut it out!”
“Is everything okay over here?” Carrie says, trying to calm the situation.
“Yeah, we’re fine. Jamie’s just rehashing things from our childhoods.” You explain.
“Wait, you two know each other?” John asks comically.
Jamie nods. “Know is not quite it, but yes.”
“What does that mean?” John asks
“That means that Yn hates me.”
“You hate me too, Jamie; don’t just put this on me. You’ve only ever made my life more difficult throughout every part of it.”
“Yn, why don’t you interview Esa, and I’ll finish with Jamie, that good?” Carrie suggests
“Yes, that works,” you walk over to Esa and breathe out a sigh of relief. Yeah, you knew that this was exactly what was going to happen.
You finished your interview with Esa, and you and Carrie walked out of the locker room to prep the videos to be posted.
“Dude, what did you do to make her so angry at you?” Esa asks. “It seems like your mere presence pisses her off.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it does,” Jamie admits. “I can’t remember why; all I remember is that one day we started hating each other.”
“I’d hate to be in your shoes,” Tyler tells his teammate. “A pretty girl hates you, and you very obviously like her.”
Jamie pales. He didn’t think it was that obvious to anyone, ever. “What?”
Everyone laughs.
“It’s obvious,” Roope agrees. “You like her. Just the way you looked at her and acted around her. You’ve got it bad.”
“No, I don’t,” Jamie grumbles.
“Dude, you were staring at her the entire time she was interviewing Roope. All the giggling made you jealous, didn’t it?” Esa states.
“I’m not jealous, and I don’t care. There is nothing but hate between us.” Jamie tries to defend himself. It’s useless; Jamie knows for a fact that he was jealous that Roope got to be on the receiving end of your giggles.
“Whatever, this is going to be fun,” John says.
It truly will be.
. . .
When you got home from work that day, you immediately called your best friend, Lisa, to tell her all about your day with Jamie.
“You know?” you being. “He’s just as infuriating as when we were children. He had the audacity to believe that we could possibly be friends. I mean, come on, the antipathy and rancor between us can be felt for miles and miles. He drives me crazy so much.”
Lisa was glad that you weren’t doing a video call because the smile on her face was wide. Deep down, she knows that there are other feelings besides this hate between you and Jamie; she just wasn’t sure if it would ever come out. “Maybe he wants to be nice again.”
“No, that’s not what this is. If he wanted to be nice and try to be friends again, then he wouldn’t have done exactly what he knew would drive me insane. It’s probably like caffeine to him; driving me insane is the coffee that wakes him up in the morning. You know, now, probably, he wakes up and hatches a plan to try to drive me insane.”
Lisa laughs. “Aren’t you taking this a bit far?”
“Absolutely not, I think I’m acting appropriately. You didn’t see his smirk; I wanted to punch him in the face so badly. Obviously, it wouldn’t have done anything to hurt him as he’s huge now.”
“Oh? Down there too?”
Your face warms suddenly, and you’re glad Lisa can’t see your face. “That’s not what I meant. He’s giant and super muscular. I guess you could assume that he’s packing quite a bit.”
“You know, yn, maybe this is just pent-up sexual tension and frustration. Maybe you just need to get laid and get laid by someone in particular.”
“You’re telling me that when we were seven when Jamie broke my ankle, that was pent-up sexual frustration?”
Lisa laughs. “Okay, maybe not your entire relationship was pent-up sexual tension. Maybe just now and parts of high school? You have to admit, Jamie is quite hot, now, right? Maybe the past few years of hate has led to the dire need to just sleep with each other.”
“Thank you for your take, but these past few days is the first time I’ve spoken to Jamie in almost five years. I just don’t know what to do.”
“Just talk to him. Maybe tell him that you want this to be as professional as possible and try to move past the hate. Yn, before you argue, just think of what working for the Dallas Stars could do to your career. That’s a high-profile job. Maybe if you try to be professional and polite, then maybe he will too?”
You wanted to contradict everything Lisa said, but you knew she was right. For your job to go smoothly, it was important for you to keep a professional attitude and any hate you have for Jamie on the backburner. “You’re right; however, I’m not promising that it’s going to work. I’ll try my best to be professional, but if he starts to aggravate me, I’m not sure if I can keep up that facade.”
“That’s why you talk to him. Maybe set up a time to meet up or something and just discuss what you have to say.”
“That would require me to unblock him on literally everything, even Facebook.”
“Does he still even have that?”
“He does; it’s not even his real name. It’s an alias. He only made it to try to talk to me and bother me. I doubt he uses it and it may be deactivated now.”
“This is besides the point. Yn, Jamie is obviously not going to try to be professional with you, so it’s up to you to make that clear.”
“Yeah, you’re right.”
The only lingering thought you had was whether or not this would work. Surely, Jamie could be a decent human being to you, right?
. . .
The next day, you went and sat in the practice arena ready to take the photos that your job required you to take. Today, you decided was going to be the day that you had that all too important conversation with Jamie. You really didn’t want to have that conversation, but you knew that it was important in having a not chaotic working environment for everyone, not just you and Jamie.
When practice was over, you waited outside the locker room for Jamie. He walked out on his own and smirked when he saw you waiting. He didn’t know for sure you were waiting for him; however, when he saw that your phone was off, he assumed you weren’t there for work.
“Hey, ynn,” Jamie says to you and your blood instantly begins to boil. Jamie knew that you never gave him the jurisdiction to call you that, yet he still used it. You wanted to call him out on it but thought better of it. You were here to try to be professional and rehashing this would contradict your objective.
“Hey, Jamie, can we talk? It’s about something important.”
Jamie’s smirk instantly left his face and worry washed over his face. You didn’t know that Jamie could be sympathetic towards anything you said. “Yeah, is everything okay?”
His response shocked you and it took you a moment to regroup. “Oh, yeah. I just want to talk about our relationship, well, lack thereof of one. I think that when we’re here at work, we should be professional. We should put any hate that we have for each other on the side while here so that we can have a better working environment.”
Jamie laughs. “This is what you wanted to talk about? This couldn’t have been a text? You had me so worried, yn.”
“It’s important to me, Jamie,” you protest. You didn’t want to get angry at him, so you calmed yourself down. “I think it’s better for both of us if we can just keep our history and past behind us while we are doing anything to do with the Dallas Stars.”
“If I were to take you out on a date, then we could hate each other as normal?”
“What?” you falter.
“You heard me, yn. You never had a hard time hearing what I had to say.”
“No, absolutely not. You will not be taking me out on a date, ever.”
“Come on, really?”
“Jamie, this is beside the point. I’m trying to move on from our pasts and you aren’t really making this any easier. Isn’t this what you said the other day? You were hoping for a rekindling? Well, this is the first part. Trying to put behind us any hate.” You were raising your voice now. “I’m trying to make my job easier, but you’re making it incredibly difficult. Jamie, all I want is to come to work and not have to worry about whether or not an outburst I make at you will cost me my job.”
Jamie doesn’t have anything to say. “Yn.”
“No, don’t do that. You know, the reason we hate each other is your fault, so you should be the one fixing things, not me.”
“What?”
“You tripped me purposefully when we were three and laughed at me.”
“Wait, this is what this is about?”
“No, that’s the first time you treated me terribly. It was the start of you belittling me and making me feel terrible. I hated going to school because I was always worried about you and your stupid antics.” Tears are forming at the corners of your eyes, and you try to will them away.
Jamie feels terrible now. “I’m sorry, ynn. I didn’t know.”
“Firstly, don’t call me ynn; you don’t get to do that. Secondly, seriously? You’re telling me that you didn’t know you were being a total ass to me? No, I don’t believe that because I know for a fact that your mother talked to you. Do you want to know how I know that? Because she apologized to me time and time again for what you did to me. Don’t you dare say that you had no idea.”
Jamie looks down at you and extends his left leg so it’s jutting out. “You’re right. I was a total ass.”
“Only took you twenty-plus years to finally admit that.”
“Come on, ynn,” Jamie says and you glare at him. “Yn, I’m trying here, and you’re not making it any easier.”
“Oh my goodness, Jamie. Literally, that’s what I’ve been trying to do! You not willing to accept my proposition is the whole reason we’re rehashing this stuff.”
“Yn, I’m sorry. What can I do?”
You look at him and are shocked to see that he has remorse in his eyes. “Nothing, just let me be.” You take a step to the right and begin to walk away. Unfortunately, because Jamie extended his leg, you tripped over it and went crashing to the floor hurting your ankle in the process. You screamed out in pain; you always had weak ankles after breaking them in elementary school. Your cry out in pain brought some people out of the locker room.
Jamie’s eyes go wide in fear. “Yn! Are you okay?”
“Does it look like I’m okay? Jamie, did you really have to trip me?”
“Really? I didn’t mean to! My leg was just there, and you tripped.”
“It doesn’t matter; let me just get up.” You put your hands flat on the ground to help yourself up. The minute your leg is stable enough to be stood up on, you get up but fall immediately. You cry out in pain again.
“You might have sprained your ankle,” Roope says. He was one of the people who rushed out of the locker room when you first fell.
“No, I don’t think so. I just have very weak ankles after Jamie broke, I mean, I broke my ankles in elementary school.” Your correction of Jamie breaking your ankles does not go unnoticed by him. He wants to ask why but feels it’s not the right moment.
“Here, let me help you,” Jamie reaches for your arms and you move them away. “Really, yn? Just let me help you.”
Jamie and Roope help you up and put you on the bench in the locker room, and Roope goes to find a trainer to check on your ankle.
“I’m sorry, yn, really,” Jamie says with a soft voice. You begin to put your foot on the ground but Jamie stops you gently. “Put it on the bench. It’s important to keep it elevated.”
“It’s cold, though,” you pout.
Jamie laughs. “Here, put it on my lap then, okay?”
You look at Jamie hesitantly.
“This isn’t a trick, yn. I think I’ve hurt you enough over the years. Just put your leg on my lap.”
You do as he says and Jamie rests his hands on top of your ankle. Your face grows warm at the touch and you suddenly don’t hate Jamie. “So, you’re finally admitting that you made me miserable?”
“I don’t think I made you miserable,” Jamie says and you scoff. “Wait, let me finish. I think I didn’t make your life any easier. I’m not relenting any more than that, babe.”
You flinch at the pet name, but your face grows warm. Do you address it?
Jamie makes the decision for you. “Yn, I have a question for you.”
You nod, signaling him to continue.
“You were saying something about how you have weak ankles and then said something about me. This isn’t me trying to be self-centered or whatever. I just genuinely want to know. I don’t remember what happened.”
“Well, we were in elementary school and you once, I’m pretty sure it was accidental, put your hand out and it hit me while I was walking down the stairs and I fell. I landed weirdly on my ankle and broke it.”
“So you blame me?”
“Yes, absolutely. Do you blame me? You had a way of hurting me and making it seem like an accident.”
Jamie laughs and you giggle along; he’s about to comment when a trainer walks in.
“Let’s see what’s the matter here,” he says. You are suddenly extremely aware that your leg is sitting on Jamie’s lap and his hands are on your lap. The trainer examines your ankle. “It’s nothing too terrible; just a small sprain. I think if you keep it elevated as much as possible then it should be healed in a few days. Can you try walking on it?”
You nod and put your foot on the ground gently. Jamie puts his hands on your waist as you try to stand, and your skin is burning beneath his touch. “I think I’m good to get back to work.”
“You sure?” Jamie asks, concerned.
You nod. “Yeah, I think so,” you walk away from Jamie’s embrace. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“Just ice it and keep it elevated once you get home tonight,” the trainer tells you. You nod and walk out of the locker room.
“What did you do to her?” Roope asks Jamie.
“Too much damage to ever fix,” Jamie says with a sigh. There was no way that your relationship with Jamie would ever go past professional acquaintances after what you revealed to him today. If Jamie knew one thing about you it was that you were strong and steadfast with your opinions and rarely changed them, especially when it came to people. Jamie doubted that he’d be an exception considering all of the past history there.
. . .
The days that followed your fall, you avoided Jamie as much as possible. You could proudly say that you didn’t hate him anymore. That’s not true. You still hated Jamie; however, when you heard his name, you didn’t immediately roll your eyes and get angry. Sometimes, you’d smile and other times you’d have no reaction. This shocked everyone because they all knew about the hatred you had for the Dallas Stars hockey player.
Shortly after, you were taken off of the media job and went back to your marketing job. The night of the home opener, however, Carrie comes up to your office with a request. “Tristain can be back at work but not for games at the moment. Do you think that you could fill in tonight? We had her on the schedule and no one else can be there.”
You hesitate; the only thing holding you back was the fact that you’d be seeing Jamie again.
“Sure, of course!”
You sort out the details with Carrie and are set to be available as part of the media team tonight for the home opener.
Later that day, you’re standing outside of the locker room filming the boys get ready for warmups. Once the video was taken and posted, you put the phone in your pocket and begin to head to the place you were supposed to be. However, someone grabs onto your arm gently and stops you.
“How’s your ankle?” Jamie asks softly.
This should infuriate you; however, his concern has you touched. You don’t show it though. “Better. I think I’d be better, though, if I didn’t have to worry about my ankles but oh well.”
Jamie shakes his head; he wasn’t sure why he was expecting anything else from you.
“I have to go, good luck tonight, Jamie,” you tell him and walk away. You’ll admit, your comment was quite snarky and unneeded. You feel bad for what you said, and Jamie was only trying to be nice. You had to keep up familiarities, right? You hated Jamie Oleksiak for the majority of your life, so why did you suddenly feel bad for what you said to him?
. . .
“Are you coming out with us tonight, Yn?” Denis asks. The team won and wanted to go out and celebrate.
You shake your head. “No, thanks for the invite though.”
“Oh, come on, why not, Ynn?” Jamie asks. Why was he asking you that? Did he not remember that the two of you have hated each other since birth? “Don’t not go because of me.”
“Funny. You think that I care about what you do or think. I just have a few things I have to do.” you lied; you weren’t going to admit that Jamie was the reason you weren’t going out.
Jamie smirks. “Fine, if you say so, but I will continue to think in my head that the reason you’re not coming out with us is because of me and the animosity we have for each other.”
“Well, look at you. Did you finally begin to remember the vocabulary we learned in high school?”
Jamie’s face turns red. Yes, he asked his sister to send photos of his old stuff from high school to try to impress you. He wasn’t going to admit it, however. Ever since that heart to heart in the locker room, Jamie wanted nothing more than to impress you. You went back to bantering and driving each other crazy; however, this was a lighter teasing and driving each other crazy. Some would even call it flirting. Would Jamie say he was flirting with you? Yes, absolutely. Would Jamie say you were flirting back with him? No, absolutely not. You hated him, so Jamie knew that whatever he thought you felt was obviously in his head.
“No,” he grumbles and some of his teammates laugh at him. The one thing that was sticking out to Jamie was that you didn’t correct him when he called you by your nickname. You went along with it. Was there some progress being made? “Enjoy whatever you have to do tonight, yn.”
You smile at him softly that has Jamie’s heart beating fast and walk away.
“Dude, you’re in deep with her,” someone says as they clap Jamie on the back. He didn’t have the energy to determine who was talking to him or contradict what they were saying. They were right; Jamie was in deep and he had no idea what to do about it.
After taking the video you needed for the Stars Instagram of the boys playing soccer at the next home game, you wave goodbye and head to the media offices; you once again had to fill in for the media team. You take five steps and hear a loud “ow!” from the one voice you despised. You turn around to see Jamie rubbing his head and staring down at his teammates. You can’t help but smile.
“Stop staring at her, you idiot,” Roope calls out and this gets a laugh out of all the boys. “Just ask her out instead of staring,” someone else yells. A deep red blush overtakes Jamie’s face and you can’t help but smile. You walk away with a giant smile on your face. You immediately shake it off. Why was Jamie getting flustered making you smile? You hated Oleksiak, right?
. . .
When you got home from work after a long day, all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep. You had a minor sinus infection and the day was exhausting. You had a massive headache and felt nauseous all day. There was nothing more you wanted to do was take a hot shower, curl up in warm clothing, and call it a night. You weren’t expecting to come home and see a DoorDash bag sitting outside your door. You knew for a fact that you didn’t order anything. You picked up the bag and noticed there was a note attached.
Yn,
I heard that you were feeling sick, so I bought you some soup.
Enjoy,
Jamie
Jamie bought you soup? Jamie was asking about you? Where did this come from? Why would Jamie extend any kindness towards you? Isn’t he supposed to hate you? Isn’t Jamie supposed to be making your life miserable? You’ll admit, after the incident where you sprained your ankle slightly, you and Jamie have been cordial. Whenever you both talked to each other, mean words were being passed around. However, it was more of a teasing and flirting meanness. Does this mean that you and Jamie were friends now? No, right?
You walk into your apartment and open the bag - it was Italian Wedding Soup, your favorite. Your heart warmed at the fact that Jamie remembered your favorite soup. Growing up, your grandmother always made this for you when you were sick. Sometimes, she’d bring some over to the Oleksiak house if anyone was sick there, too. You grabbed a bowl and ladle and put some soup in a bowl. The minute you took the first bite, you sighed in content. It wasn’t quite like home, but it was close. You started to immediately feel better. How did Jamie know this was exactly what you needed? You wanted to text him to thank him; however, you didn’t have his phone number and didn’t feel comfortable sending him a text through Instagram quite yet. You opted to write him and note and were going to leave it in his stall the next morning.
You finished the soup and began to feel better. You were happy and thankful for the soup, but you had one lingering thought. Why would Jamie do something like this for you?
The next morning, when Jamie got to his stall, he noticed that there was a gift bag sitting on the bench. He looked around to see if maybe one of his teammates left it there. It wasn't his birthday and there was no big milestone coming up. What was the message behind it, then?
“It was here when I got here,” John tells Jamie.
“He wanted to open it, but we told him that it wouldn’t be nice,” Roope says.
“I didn’t want to open it; I wanted to see who it was from. There’s a difference.”
“Whatever, Jamie, just open it.”
Jamie grabs the bag and looks for a card or maybe a note. He removes a piece of tissue paper and sees a note. He smiles as he sees your familiar handwriting that always got Jamie’s heart racing back in high school.
Jamie,
Thank you so much for the soup last night. How did you know it was my favorite? I didn’t have your phone number, so I am leaving this for you. Enjoy a small treat from home! Again, thank you.
Yn
Jamie smiles and peers into the bag. Inside, Jamie finds a bag of snacks that are endemic to the Toronto area. Only, you would know what his favorites were. “It’s from Yn,” Jamie tells his curious teammates.
This gets a few raised eyebrows and snickers from the people that were currently in the locker room.
“Why did she leave you a gift?” Roope asks.
“I bought her some soup and had it delivered to her house yesterday because I heard she was sick. This is her thank you.” Jamie blushes with these words and can’t meet anyone’s eye.
“You got her soup?” John asks curiously. What did this mean? “Are you trying to date her?”
Jamie pales. “What? No. She just wasn’t feeling well, so I tried to make her feel better.”
John smirks. “How did you know exactly what she would want?”
Jamie, not realizing that his teammates were setting him up, answered obliviously. “It was always her favorite growing up.”
“And how do you know this?”
“Because I loved her, still do.”
This was not the answer that everyone was expecting. “What?” someone asks.
“What?” Jamie looks up from the note to see everyone staring at him.
“You love Yn? The girl who hates you? The girl who you treated like absolute shit your entire life?” Roope confirms.
“I, yeah, I loved her. In middle school and elementary school, I just messed with her because she was a girl and, you know when you have a crush on a girl that young, you tease her.”
“No, you don’t,” Miro says.
Jamie glares at his teammate. “Whatever, not the point. I thought I was being obvious, and then in high school, I realized I was in love with her.”
“You wanted to treat her right, but you knew she’d find it suspicious.”
“I forgot about my feelings when she went to college and my career picked up, but when I saw her that first time I, just,” Jamie stops talking because he isn’t sure how to continue.
“Realized your feelings.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Maybe just talk to her? Tell her how you feel?” John suggests.
“That probably won’t work. How do I tell her that I’ve been in love with her since we were three and I treated her terribly because I was scared of my feelings? Oh, and I ruined any possibility of her dating anyone in high school because I was a jealous idiot who couldn’t figure anything out.”
Jamie’s words get a few pitiful glances, “that sucks”, and pats on the shoulder. No one knows what to say or do. Jamie was in love with the one person who might never love him back.
. . .
Walking into the ballroom, you were trying to find your boss so that you could tell her that you were here. Tonight was the annual Casino Night and you were working behind the scenes to make sure the night went smoothly. This was the first time you were attending because last year, the marketing team didn’t need you to work it, and you also caught a cold right before.
“Oh, hey, yn’s here,” Carrie calls out and crosses your name off the list. “Perfect, you’re going to be sitting at the table in the front welcoming guests and stuff. You are going to ask for their name, ID, and ticket. Once you do that, you’ll tell them their table number and give them a gift bag. A few of the players will be serving as ushers tonight, so they’ll bring the guests to their tables.”
You nod. You want to ask who the players are, but you don’t want to sound eager.
“The organization assigned Roope Hintz, Denis Gurianov, and Jason Dickinson as ushers. They also put Jamie Oleksiak. I know the two of you have some hardcore animosity between you two, so if you don’t want him there, then we can get someone else.”
“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll be okay,” you tell Carrie. For the first time in your life, you were serious. Things between you and Jamie were cordial and professional. You still hated him like crazy but significantly less than when you were growing up. You weren’t even sure that you and Jamie would be at this point, but here you two both were.”
“Okay, great, why don’t I bring you to your station and show you how the software works,” Carrie says and leads you to the entrance of the ballroom. The next ten minutes pass, and you think you’ve got the software and system figured out pretty well that you should be okay. Carrie told you to organize the table in any way that’s fitting to your needs, so you begin to reorganize based on how you think you’ll be able to work more efficiently.
Walking to the front entrance from the back entrance are the ushers. Leading the pack is Jamie and Roope. They were walking and talking casually when Jamie suddenly stopped in his tracks.
“Keep walking,” Jason says and smacks Jamie over the head.
“What are you staring at - oh,” Roope follows Jamie’s eye line and spots you organizing the table.
“She’s so beautiful,” Jamie says with heart eyes. You were wearing a dark green dress that fell just above your knees and matching green stilettos. Your hair was done in the way that you knew looked best. Jamie recognized it as the same way you did your hair for Senior Prom and graduation.
“You know, maybe tonight you should tell her?” Denis suggests.
“I don’t think so,” Jamie says with reluctance. “I know she doesn’t feel the same.”
“Then try not to stare or gape too much, then.”
Jamie nods. “We should head to where we need to be, right?”
The four boys continue walking to where you were. “Hey, yn,” Roope greets you.
You look up and smile. “Hi, well, you guys clean up nicely.”
“As do you,” Jamie tells you, and the heat rushes to your face. So, Jamie was complimenting you now.
“Um, so, I’ll be greeting guests and taking their ticket information,” you explain. “Your job, which you've probably been briefed on, is to escort them to their table numbers.”
“‘Briefed on’?” Jason begins. “Are we in some kind of spy or FBI movie?”
“Very funny,” you say sarcastically. “Not the point, but that’s it basically. I think Ryan from marketing will be here to help me with the tickets. Carrie told me that two of you will be on my side of the table and two on Ryan’s side.”
Ryan suddenly appears and greets you with a hug. “You look nice, yn.”
“Thanks, Ryan, you clean up well, too,” you say back to him. You don’t catch the glare that Jamie was giving to Ryan. “I was just explaining what we’re going to be doing tonight to the boys. Two will be working with you and two with me.”
“Perfect, thanks for briefing them; you four can talk amongst yourselves as to who you’re going to be working with. I don’t care either way.”
“See?” you look pointedly at Jason. “Ryan used ‘brief’, too. Oh, I also don’t care. Actually, I’m going to head to the washroom quickly before people start to arrive.”
You get up and walk away, but you don’t notice Jamie watching you leave. He was incredibly captivated with you and wants nothing more than to sweep you up and kiss you. He wants to profess his love to you and love you forever. Sadly, you would never feel the same way as a result of how he treated you growing up. Jamie is drawn out of his thoughts by Jason smacking his arm.
“Dude, you have to stop staring,” Jason says.
“Oh, you like her?” Ryan asks. “She’s quite a catch.”
“Oh, no, I don’t,” Jamie denies. He gets stares from his teammates. Jamie isn’t sure why he denied having feelings for you. You weren’t even here to hear them anyways.
“Good, I like her, and I think I’m going to ask her out. I wasn’t going to say anything if you liked her, but since you don’t, I should be okay to do so.”
Jamie nods but locks his jaw. “Excuse me, I have to go to the washroom, too.” Jamie walks to the bathroom angrily. Of course, Ryan likes you, who wouldn’t? Why couldn’t Jamie just tell Ryan he likes you? That way, Ryan won’t be asking you out. Too entranced in his thoughts, he runs right into you, again.
“Oof, wow, hi Jamie,” you say to him giggly after regaining your composure. “I should stop doing this, you know, running into you. Are you okay?”
“Um, yeah, why?”
“You look really angry and pissed off.”
“Oh, well, I’m not, so, don’t worry,” Jamie says in a voice that doesn’t express what he just said.
You laugh softly.
“What?” Jamie asks.
“You say you’re not angry, but your tone says anything but,” you explain with an amused smile. You look up to meet Jamie’s eyes, and you see the fury going on in his head. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, don’t worry about it,” Jamie brushes you off and walks away toward the washroom.
You want to yell after him, but you don’t feel it’s your place to do so.
“Oh good, you’re back,” Ryan says to you. “Jamie and Jason are going to be your ushers and Roope and Denis will be mine.”
You nod and sit down. So, Jamie was going to be closer to you than you thought. “Perfect.”
When Jamie gets back from the washroom and sees you talking to Ryan in a much too friendly manner for his liking, Jamie sulks again. This was going to be a long night.
Somehow, despite his anger and frustration, Jamie was able to put that all aside as he was working as an usher for the Casino Night. Just being near you and around you was enough to calm him down. Watching you interact with the guests made Jamie’s heart warm. He always knew that you were incredibly caring to everyone you met; he just didn’t know that your actions would make him melt and fall more in love with you. After about an hour and a half of welcoming guests, Carrie walks over and says that one group can go and get something to eat. She walks away and the six of you talk amongst yourselves as to who should go. The decision is made for you when two guests walk up to you and begin pulling out their IDs. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Ryan, Roope, and Denis head into the ballroom to have dinner. After welcoming them in, Denis ushers the guests to their table. You take a breath of releasing exhaustion and Jamie smiles at you.
“Tired?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’s a lot of people to talk to; when I took this job, I thought it would just be marketing, not the rest of this, too,” you tell him. “It’s a very versatile job.”
“Well, if it weren’t versatile, then we wouldn’t have ever come into contact with each other, right?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing yet.”
Jamie looks you in the eye. “Well, I think it’s a good thing. A very good thing.”
You raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh yeah?” you say to Jamie, and he nods. “I’ll take that into consideration as I make my decision.”
Jamie chuckles deeply, and you feel the shivers go up your spine.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” you ask Jamie.
“Sure,” he tells you.
“Why were you, actually never mind,” you stop asking, seeing Denis walking back to the table.
Jamie was about to question why, but he sees Denis and another guest approaching. He takes this as the reason that you stopped talking. You put on a bright smile and begin talking to the guests and welcoming them. Jamie ushers them into the ballroom after you talk and gives you a wink. You feel the warmth reach your face; you see Denis shaking his head and you question him.
“Just give him a chance,” he replies to you.
“What?” you ask confused.
“I’m serious, just give him a chance.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You will, just give him a chance when you realize you know what I’m talking about.”
You nod. What in the world could he be talking about?
Three hours after the event starts, Carrie comes over to the six of you and tells her that you were all relieved of your duties and were free to enjoy the event. You weren’t sure what to do now.
“Where are you headed?” Jamie asks.
“I’m not sure, you?”
“What do you mean you’re not sure?”
“I’ve never been to one of these before, and most of my friends are working or have their own dates. I don’t have a table to sit at and don’t want to intrude.”
Jamie nods. He extends his arm for you, and you look at him skeptically.
“What?” you ask.
“Dance with me,” he tells you.
You want to tell him he’s crazy and that there was no way in hell that you were going to dance with him. However, you wanted to. You wanted to dance with Jamie, so you loop your arm through his and he leads you into the ballroom. The two of you find a spot on the dance floor and maneuver yourselves into a dancing position. Jamie rests his two hands on your waist and you reach up to wrap your arms around his neck. You giggle softly; your hands don’t reach because Jamie is too tall.
“What?” he asks.
“You’re too tall; I can’t get my arms to go around your neck,” you tell him.
“Oh,” Jamie says. His eyes suddenly light up. He removes one of his hands from your waist and takes your hand. “Now, you put one of your hands on my back. This work?”
You do as he says and nods. “Yeah, and now we dance!”
“That we do.”
You and Jamie begin swaying with the music. You remember that you had a question you wanted to ask Jamie, so you decide to prompt him with it now. “Hey, Jamie?”
“Yes, ynn?”
“Why were you so upset earlier?” you ask.
Jamie suddenly stiffens, and you begin tracing patterns on his back with your hand to try to calm him down. “No reason.”
“So, you mean to tell me that you just get angry for no apparent reason?”
“No, I did get angry for a certain reason.”
“Care to share? A penny for your thoughts?”
What about a kiss for my thoughts. “It’s stupid. Ryan just said something I didn’t like, so I got angry.”
“Oh, okay.”
Jamie smiles at you, and you both continue to dance to the song. When the song ends, you begin to release your grasp of Jamie, but he doesn’t do the same.
“Jamie, the song's over.”
“I know, one more?” he asks. You want to say yes, but you aren’t sure why you don’t want to. You aren’t sure what this shift in your relationship is, but you need some time to figure it out on your own.
“I’m sorry, my feet hurt, I think I’m going to head to the back with staff and just rest, okay?” you pivot.
Jamie nods and releases his hold on you. “I probably have to do some sucking up to the donors and stuff.”
“Oh yeah, probably,” you tease. “See you later?”
“Absolutely, yes,” Jamie says to you, and the two of you go your separate ways. You head to the back to find Carrie, and Jamie heads to his teammates.
“So, did you finally tell her?” Denis asks excitedly.
“No,” Jamie says glumly.
The team gathered at this certain location all shook their heads in annoyance. When will the two of you finally realize these things?
You’re sitting in the back kitchen with a piece of chocolate cake as the event wraps up. Carrie told you that you could just sit in the back if you didn’t want to go out. Yeah, that’s what you did. You didn’t want to see Jamie again because you didn’t know what the shift in your guys’ relationship was. You needed to talk to Lisa as soon as you could before you saw Jamie again. Sadly, the universe didn’t care that much about what you felt.
“Is this the pity party?” Jamie asks as he sits across from you. He grabs the fork in your hand and takes a bite out of your cake.
“Hey!” you jokingly scold. “And no, this isn’t a pity party. I just don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“You could have come and found me, you know.”
You open your mouth to say something but close it right away.
“What?” Jamie asks with his mouth full of cake.
“Stop eating my cake,” you tell him and take your fork out of his hand. “Should you really be eating this anyway?”
“It’s cake.”
“Yeah, and you’re a professional athlete.”
“I don’t follow.”
You sigh. “Aren’t you supposed to be eating only healthy things?”
“I guess, yeah.”
“But you’re eating cake.”
“Oh, now I get what you're saying,” Jamie says to you. “Just don’t tell the nutrition staff.”
“Then maybe you should wipe that chocolate icing off your face,” you joke.
“Oops, my bad,” Jamie begins wiping the icing off his face but misses.
“Here, let me,” you say and scoot your chair closer to him. You use your thumb and wipe the icing off your face. “Better.”
“Thank you,” Jamie says to you, and his face gets closer to yours so close that your foreheads are touching. “Yn, can I tell you something?”
“Of course,” you say to him, realizing how close your face is to his.
“You know how you asked me earlier today about why I was mad?” Jamie asks, and you nod. “Well, I wasn’t entirely telling you the truth. Yes, Ryan said something I didn’t like. When you walked to the washroom, I was staring at you because you were so beautiful. One of the guys told me to stop staring at you, and Ryan asked if I liked you. I don’t know why, but I told him no even though I’m so in love with you. Ryan then said that he was going to ask you out, and I got mad. I got mad because I want to be the one to love you, and I think Ryan might be the one to get that first.”
You pull back slightly, shocked. “What?”
“I’m in love with you; I always was.”
There’s no way you feel the same way. Where did that come from? “What? No, Jamie. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’ve treated me like shit our entire life. There is no way you’re in love with me. No, you’re not. I’m sorry, I have to go.” You get up abruptly and walk out of the kitchen.
You walk to go find Carrie, so you could tell her you were going to head home. You were going to tell her you feel sick, which you do. You find Carrie and tell her you’re going to head home. She says it’s fine, and you head to the exit.
“Yn, wait, don’t leave because of me,” Jamie says to you as you’re about to leave. Somehow, he found you and was following you.
“No, Jamie, if you didn’t want me to leave, you shouldn’t have said those things to me. Why? Do you hate me that much that you want to mess with me so badly?”
“What? No, of course not. I don’t hate you, yn!”
“That’s rich; I’m leaving. Goodnight, Jamie.”
You don’t see the fallen look on Jamie’s face as you walk away, but his teammates do. Jamie goes back to his table but doesn’t say anything. Why did he think you’d ever feel the same way? Because he was nice for a few months? No, he should have known better. This was his fault, and he had to live what he did.
You held in your tears until you got to your car. The minute your door closed, you broke down. How dare he do this to you? How dare Jamie say something like that to mess with you? What was his problem? Why would he do that?
You and Jamie both went home miserable that night. Jamie went home heartbroken, and you went home angry and annoyed. What happens next?
. . .
You called in sick the Monday after Casino Night. You weren’t ready to face Jamie even though you knew that you’d probably not see him. You weren’t sure what to think. Jamie was always someone that you knew would be in your life. However, you always thought he’d be there as your lifelong enemy who you happened to still be in semi-contact with because your parents were friends. As of late, though, you’ve been seeing Jamie as a friend. You weren’t going to lie, you found Jamie ridiculously attractive, and ever since the accident you had where you and Jamie finally talked, you began to see him in a different light. Instead of your first thought being how much you hated him, you thought about the good things he had to himself. You saw how friendly he was to everyone, and he always asked how you were. He had a selflessness to himself that you were starting to love about him.
“Why are you telling me all this, yn?” Lisa asks you exasperated. “I always thought that the two of you were perfect for each other, even in high school. Don’t lie, you thought about it, too.”
You pause for a moment carefully thinking about what you were going to say. “I guess you’re right. I did have a small crush on him in high school because, for almost six months, he was mostly nice to me.”
“And what about now?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you want to know what I think?”
“Yes, please, Lisa.”
“I think you’re in love with him, too. I think you always have been; I think he’s one of those people that is always going to be in your life whether or not you like it. At first, everyone thought you two were going to be the best of friends and take over the world. That all changed when he tripped you and the rest is history, but I think it’s different now. This time around, you both are mature adults who, I think, subconsciously realized that the way they dealt with the crushes they had on each other was by absolutely hating each other. You both didn’t know what to do, so you’re coping mechanism? Hate each other senselessly because you didn’t know what else. Now, Jamie realized how he feels and wants that with you. He said it first, right? Maybe he wants to show you he’s changed and truly loves you now.”
“I guess you’re kind of right,” you tell Lisa. “I just, I don’t know how I feel.”
“Do you find him attractive?”
“Yes, of course, he’s gorgeous.”
“Did you always think that?”
“Yes, because he’s always been gorgeous.”
“Was one of the reasons you hated him because he was so gorgeous?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure where you’re going with this, Lisa,” you tell your best friend skeptically.
“My point is that if you truly hated him, you wouldn’t have called him gorgeous so quickly. I think you would have just denied finding him attractive and that’s that. Now that you know what nice and kind Jamie is like, I think you want more. You want to have more with him because you’ve seen what a great person Jamie is. Because you’ve seen the goodness, you want more and all of it. Can you say that you currently hate Jamie Oleksiak with your entire being?”
“No, I cannot say that I hate Jamie Oleksiak with my entire being.”
“Your first reaction to him telling you how he feels was not to punch him or to hurt him, was it?”
“No, I guess it wasn’t,” you say calmly.
“What was it then, yn?”
“In my head, and I don’t know why I said it, but it was ‘there’s no way you feel the same way', and I was surprised those words even formed in my head.”
“Don’t you see, yn? You feel the same way! You just didn’t know it! Your head and heart have been trying to tell you how you feel by spreading warmth to your face, making you feel shy, or just wanting to be around him. Yn, you’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”
“Holy shit, I’m in love with Jamie Oleksiak.”
“You’re in love with Jamie Oleksiak, yn.”
“Oh dear goodness, what do I do now, Lisa?”
“Apologize and tell him.”
You take a deep breath. “Yeah, I can do that, right?”
“If you want to be with him, then yeah.”
“Okay, I can do that, it shouldn’t be too hard, right? What could possibly go wrong?”
. . .
Believe it or not, a lot. The next day, you were set to go back to work, but you woke up with a massive migraine, an aching cough, and a debilitating stomach ache. You couldn’t go to work feeling like this, so you called in sick for real this time. You finally had the courage to go see a doctor, and they told you it was just a bug. They gave you some antibiotics, and you were back to work in three days.
On the Saturday after Casino Night, Carrie asked if you could fill in for the media team, and you agreed enthusiastically. Maybe you’d finally be able to see Jamie and talk to him?
Unfortunately, that was not the case. You weren’t outright trying to talk to Jamie or get his attention, but you weren’t not doing that. You tried to act normal, but Jamie wouldn’t even acknowledge you. You were able to catch him alone after the game, but when you called out to him, he didn’t respond. You went home that night crying thinking you ruined something great without knowing you had something great at the tip of your fingers.
The following Monday, you were sitting in the GM’s offices when Jamie walked in looking for one of the team managers. You were the one of two sitting in the room, and Jamie walked to the other person who was on the far side of the room to ask if the manager was there. You’ll admit, that hurt.
You saw Jamie a few days later on your way to the locker room to give some paperwork to the coaching staff. You were about to turn the corner when your foot got stuck in a loose floorboard, and you went tumbling to the ground.
“Are you okay?” someone asks you as you try to get up.
“I mean, considering I just fell to the ground, no, but thanks for asking,” you answer and lookup. “Jamie.”
“Yn,” he replies back to you. “I’m going to go.”
“Jamie, wait, please.”
“What, yn? Are you going to reject me again because I don’t want to have that conversation with you, then.”
“When we both aren’t at work and in a public place, can we please talk?”
“Why should I agree to that, yn? Because, for your information, you’re breaking my heart. I can’t do this if you’re just going to make me feel terrible.”
You falter slightly when Jamie tells you that you’re breaking his heart. “I’m really sorry, can we just please pick a time and place to talk?”
“Sure, right here, right now.”
“Jamie, that’s not what I --”
“No, if you want to talk, then right here. I don’t want to have this conversation later if you’re going to reject me again.”
You’re getting kind of sick and tired of Jamie insisting that you’re going to reject him again because you’re not. “Jamie! I’m not going to reject you again! Do you think I’m some kind of heartless monster who loves to see you suffer? Guess what, I don’t! I hate that my words made you hurt and put you in a terrible mood. I apologize for that. You know you got to speak your mind, isn’t it time for me to be able to speak mine?”
Jamie is about to say something, but you stop him.
“No, I’m not going to break your heart, I promise. Just listen, okay?”
Jamie nods and takes one step towards you.
“Casino Night? You caught me off guard. My entire life, I hated you and that was all I knew. Wake up? Hate Jamie. Go to bed? Hate Jamie. You have to admit, though, you didn’t make it hard, but that’s beside the point. When I literally ran into you all those months ago, I picked up where we left off because that was all I knew. Then, come to find out, I didn’t like that. When I tripped over your foot and we talked? That was the shift inside of me. I didn’t know what I was feeling. The next few things I’m going to say I didn’t makeup on my own, Lisa helped me with it. She told me that I got to experience nice and kind Jamie, and I loved it. I did, I loved being on the receiving end of it. She was saying how I wanted more, all of the love and kindness you have to offer. She’s not wrong. I want everything you have to offer because I’m in love with you.”
“What?”
“Casino Night? I didn’t know what I was feeling. If you gave me a bit more time, on my own, then I think I would have realized it soon. I’m not sure if you know this, but in sophomore year of high school, I had a crush on you because, for once, you were quite nice to me. I like nice Jamie because he makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Jamie Oleksiak, I’m in love with you even though I spent almost twenty years hating you. And, that’s all I have to say, so I’m going to go now.”
You begin to turn around, but Jamie’s next words leave you stunned. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were three.”
“What?”
“When we were three years old, I realized I had a crush on you. I wouldn’t have called it a crush, but I always saw how in love my parents were and one day wanted that with you. You know how children get ‘married’? Well, I wanted to marry you. I didn’t know how to process how I felt so I treated you like shit and for that, I’m sorry. I realized I was in love with you in high school, but at that point, too much damage was created for me to go back and change things. When I saw you again a few months back, I realized that I never really got over you, and I wanted more with you.”
You take a step forward. “So.”
“So?”
“So, we’re two idiots who are in love with each other, then?”
“So we are,” Jamie says to you with a smile.
“Now what do we do?” you ask.
“Well, I’d like to take you out for dinner and maybe kiss you? Then, take you out for dinner again and call you my girlfriend. What do you think?”
“I think you should kiss me now and we can just jump to the ‘I’m your girlfriend’ part.”
“That’s a deal,” Jamie says and leans down to kiss you. He places a gentle kiss on your lips before leaning back to take a breath. He leans in again, and you both deepen the kiss he places on your lips. All of five seconds pass when you hear cheering behind you. “I guess this is why you wanted to talk in private, right?”
You laugh. “Yeah, it was. Maybe you should listen to me more often.”
“Well, now that you’re my girlfriend, I guess I have more of a reason to.”
“And why’s that?”
“So I get to keep you and love you forever?”
You smile and say, “that I can do.” You perch upon your tippy-toes and kiss Jamie again. Who knew that two childhood enemies could one day learn to love each other?
Taglist: @goalision @coffee-ontherocks @glassdanse @barzal-burakovsky @petey-patty @beauvibaby @boqvistsbabe @rmaye @heatherawoowoo @heaveniish @stars-canucks @tkapuckit @mellany1997 @nhlboyshavemyhart88 @heybarzy @2manytabsopen @habsfan @besthockeyfics @plds2000 @kaitieskidmore1 @iwantahockeyhimbo @sidscrosbyy @barzysandmarnersbitch @ollywahlygator @leafs-forever @laurenairay @no-pucks-given @sixmapleleafs (Join my taglist here!)
#jamie oleksiak#jamie oleksiak imagine#jamie oleksiak x reader#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl fanfiction#nhl writing#hockey fic#hockey imagine#dallas stars imagine#dallas stars x reader#Jamie oleksiak fic#claudia writes
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When Two Coffee Addicts Unite
Part 1
@maribatmarch-2k21 Day 8: Texting
Ao3 *** Part 2
Okay so this can either be a continuation of Internet Friends or the beginning of something new. But if you want to read this as a continuation of Internet friends then you should know:
The police department is almost as bad as Damocles when dealing with powerful figures. They take the video and audio footage and simply put it in the file. Because at the time Lila still had most or in fact all of the class under her thumb, they all supported Lila’s claim that it was an accident. Lila claims that a sudden dizzy spell struck her, and she fell forwards towards Marinette. And as Mari was already on the edge of the balcony it was an accident. The fact that the file sat in the police department until well after any claim could be valid it wasn’t looked into more. Mari, her friends, and Tim did have backups of the footage, complete records for every interaction with the police, and recorded calls and interactions when dealing with the police. But as they didn’t want to involve the embassy as this would become an international affair they didn’t bother with the case.
That said the police don’t bother with the Miracle Court to avoid work. However, with the Mayor, Medical responders, and the Fire Department all aid the heroes, the police only do the bare minimum.
Marinette’s class has begun to watch Lila, but they didn’t look into her lies because except for this incident it’s just she said she said with occasional ‘injuries’ on Lila. Most of them are wary of Lila but they aren’t converted to Marinette’s side, but there is an increased tolerance between them.
~~~~~~~~~~
Marinette had just sat back at her seat after eating lunch, while the classroom was still empty. There was still half an hour left. Alix, Kim, Nino, Sabrina, and Max walked in as she sat down.
"Marinette you got the time?" Alix called out. They were on somewhat okay terms since Lila’s claims were a total 180 from the Marinette that they have known for forever.
"30 minutes left." she announced looking of her phone and in turn her missed messages.
Tim:
Mari
Mari
Mari
Nettie
Marin
Bean
Bug
Marinette
Marinette:
What's wrong.
Tim:
I have back to back meetings starting in 3 hrs. until 5.
and
Marinette:
Let me guess haven't slept.
Tim:
Exactly
Help me please
Marinette:
How many reports can you send me?
Tim:
Quite a few
Marinette:
Send me what you can.
Review the rest.
Take a nap!
And I'll be a little voice during your meeting.
Tim:
Thanks, I owe you Bean.
Marinette:
I'II hold you to that.
Tim:
Sent
Marinette:
Just make sure you wake up.
Tim:
I make no promises.
On second thought I don't want to find out how you are mad
She made it through the 15 minutes of class because Lila was akumatized. Lila had burst into the class followed by Alya, Nino, and Adrien. She claimed Mari cornered her in the bathroom and beat her a few minutes ago, showing everyone the 'bruises' on her arms. Chloe handed something to Sabrina who walked up to Lila.
"Oh, you poor thing," Sabrina consoled, Lila only whimpered. "Here this has a salve that helps bruises." She gently took Lila's wrist and wiped a 'bruise' which disappeared instantly.
"That's amazing what is it called?" Alya commented. "I should get some for Nora."
"Make-up remover." Sabrina and Chloe spoke together.
"Besides." Alix butt in. "Marinette's been here the past half hour and hasn't left."
"What?! How do you know?" Lila cried.
"Cause we've been here the whole time with her." Sabrina commented.
Marinette for her part didn't know or hear the conversation around her.
"Marinette. Marinette. Earth to Marinette," Kim shouted.
"Present!" She jolted practically standing. "Wait," she looked around, "class hasn't started."
"What are you hyper fixated on?" Adrien asked innocently.
"Just some reports, don't think you'd like them too much Kit-Kat."
"Fair," he shrugged sitting next to her. "So how were you in two places at once?"
"I can't," her head tilted to the side confusion clear on her face.
"So, if Mari hasn't left, can't be in two places at once, and your 'bruises' came off with make-up remover. How do you explain that Lila?" Adrien around, the class slowly draining their conclusions. However, Marinette spoke up. "She lied, obviously..." she stated having gone back to the reports.
"Um you said that out loud, Cake Pop, and loud at that."
"Huh?" sure enough when she looked around some were shock still, others typed furiously into their phones.
That was when Mrs. Bustier walked in, fifteen minutes late to the class. Which was also when the bandy contained restraint ended. Lila was akumatized, school let out, and the rest of her night went smoothly.
Tim woke up, and with her help survived his meetings. Some while on patrol she would constantly mute and unmute herself. Luckily, it wasn't more than twice, and they didn't run into anyone. Chat didn’t ask questions, figured it out since she was pouring over Wayne documents earlier. Tim would call her back after the private meetings and ended around 10.
At around 11 Tim text her back.
Tim:
Thanks Bug you saved me today.
Marinette:
No problem Draco
You owe me though.
Tim:
I remember.
Go to bed it's like midnight over there!
Marinette:
Yeah Yeah
Tim:
Ooh
Congratulations 2x!
Marinette:
What???
Please explain.
Tim
Tim
Timothy
Timothy Drake-Wayne answer me.
Dragon please
Ugh fine I'll sleep.
Which is what she did when he wouldn’t answer her.
She woke up the next morning to two emails from W. E.. The first was for a collaboration between W.E. and MDC for a show featuring Wayne Tech accessories and their new climate fabrics. She immediately responded and accepted. The second was that her class was one of two to be accepted as transfer students to Gotham Academy and intern slots at WE, she forwarded that to her teacher and the school.
Marinette:
You Gremlin
Tim:
Like I said congrats
Oh, I need you to give me three names.
Marinette:
What for?
Her mind was racing at the possibilities.
Tim:
You'll find out.
Marinette:
What’s the other school?
Tim:
Some Prep school in the UK.
Marinette:
Give me a Sec.
She opened another contact and typed.
Marinette:
Hey, did you get a spot in the Wayne/GA internship?
Mystery:
Yes.
Why?
Marinette:
Tell the others we are hitting Gotham with style.
Mystery:
Very well.
Mari then sent three names to him and smiled. This was going to be fun.
Next
~~~~~~~~~~
Permanent Taglist: @itsmeevie01 @adrestar @miraculouspenta @vixen-uchiha
#maribat#dc x mlb#mlb x dc#dc x miraculous#miraculous x dc#ml marinette#tim drake#platonic timari#timari#adrien agreste#lila salt#maribatmarch2021
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Counterfeit AU pt6 / On AO3
Meng Yao makes himself useful after losing his job, and discovers something unexpected
Names are funny things, Meng Yao thinks as he stares at the sheet of paper in his hand.
Funny things indeed.
-
After everything that went down in the Hanshi, it's Beastie that saves Meng Yao from himself.
Left to his own devices, he would have either wallowed in misery, or waste time proving to himself that everything that happened wasn't his fault, the way he knows he's done in other lives. But when he comes home after having his past lives thrown into his face and losing a job he loves, Beastie’s mother corners him just as he puts his key into his lock. Her daughter is on school holiday, she explains, and was supposed to be looked after by a friend with children of a similar age. But one of the children came down with something contagious, so the whole plan fell through, and the poor woman now desperately needs help finding someone to look after her daughter.
She’s not asking for Meng Yao to play the babysitter, but he knows so many people, he has so many connections, maybe he could pull a favour somewhere, help her out again.
“I can take care of her for a few days,” Meng Yao offers without thinking. “I’m jobless as of today.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry! What happened?”
“My employer died,” Meng Yao replies, which is close enough to the truth. He doesn’t think Nie Huaisang will continue using his Shanzi alias after this, and they’ll never meet again. He might as well be dead. “I don’t plan on looking for a new job right away, so I can babysit for a while, it’s no big deal.”
She tries to insist that he doesn’t need to be doing that, but quickly agrees after some reassurance that Meng Yao doesn’t mind. She looks so relieved she could cry as she says she’ll drop Beastie in the morning. Meng Yao smiles, certain that his mother would be proud of him for doing what’s right.
Having Beastie around is definitely the best choice he could have made. She’s a good kid, but she’s also high energy and needs to be entertained, which means he doesn’t get to think too much about how much he misses Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen.
They watch movies together, as they’ve always done when he picked her up after school. They go for walks to a nearby park, and once to a museum to look at old armours and swords. He buys Beastie a fake sword, though they agree to keep it at his place, since her mother already despairs that she so strongly favours boy’s toys. In fact, Meng Yao ends up just spoiling that little girl, the way he would have loved someone to do for him when he was her age. He even has Nie Huaisang’s console repaired so she can play on it, instead of selling it as he’d intended.
The video games are a big hit with her. She’s particularly in love with the same game Nie Huaisang spent too many hours on, that weird little terraforming thing which Meng Yao can’t see the appeal of. He liked that it made Nie Huaisang happy. He likes that it also makes Beastie happy, and that she’s very careful not to ruin the work previously put into it, focused instead on maintaining it and planting flowers
“It looks like home,” she explains when Meng Yao asks about that, and lifts the console for him to see.
It doesn’t look like a homely place, he thinks, and more like a military fortress right out of a wuxia drama. But Meng Yao doesn’t get to make that remark, because his phone vibrates, demanding his attention. Beastie, sitting crossed legs on some cushion on the floor, goes back to watering virtual flowers, while Meng Yao checks some news from his bank account. A lump sum has been sent to him, a good deal more than his usual salary, coming from an account registered under a name he doesn’t recognise.
It has been a week since he was fired.
Nie Huaisang kept his promise.
It really is over.
Not that Meng Yao really doubted it. Nie Huaisang has many faults but indecision has never been one, though he’s always been good at pretending otherwise. Once his choice is made he toys with expectations but rarely ever changes his mind.
Rarely, of course, isn’t never. Meng Yao, foolishly, hoped to be one of those few exceptions.
Those new zeroes on his bank account feel like a divorce, and he never even got a honeymoon.
That night, Meng Yao allows himself a few hours to wallow in misery, after Beastie went back to her mother. He is only human, and it does feel good to eat take-away in front of a cheesy romance. The film's hero doesn't get the girl, who was dead all along. Meng Yao cries, even though he's seen that movie before.
By morning, he's in control again, and takes Beastie to the park so she can run around in the sun, and scare pigeons with her sword.
Those holidays are all great fun, until Beastie’s mother reminds them that she has homework to do.
Beastie is a clever kid, there’s no doubt about it, but she doesn’t much like doing her homework, least of all when she feels she could be playing. It takes all of Meng Yao’s negotiation skills to get her to even look at her school books, and he almost resorts to bribery to make her pick up a pencil. But she works hard once she starts, and Meng Yao, wanting to encourage her, sits with her at the kitchen table to update his resume. Beastie will go back to class soon, and inactivity just isn’t in his temper.
When Beastie is done with her work, she gets permission to put on whatever movie she likes while Meng Yao checks what she’s done in case it needs correcting.
But when he picks up the sheet of simple maths she’s expected to give her teacher on monday, all Meng Yao sees is her name.
It’s really funny. He knows her name of course, though he hasn’t heard it in a while. Even her mother took up to calling her Beastie after he nicknamed her that. It just fits her so well, that active little girl who prefers trousers over dresses because they're easier to move in and always wants to play at fighting. She’s a real little monster, and Meng Yao loves her like that. She’s just Beastie.
But according to the homework she’s spent the afternoon on, she’s also Nie Mingjue.
It could just be a coincidence. Names are funny like that, they pop up in unexpected places, they get forgotten and reused. Perhaps in another life, Meng Yao would have just dismissed it as a random incident.
In another life, he wouldn’t have been called Meng Yao.
It’s the first time this happens since that first life they all shared. He’s Meng Yao again, Lan Xichen bears his old name too, and now he’s found a Nie Mingjue, hiding right under his nose. A Nie Mingjue who likes fighting, and claims that her toy sword is actually a sabre, and who always insists a lot on things being fair, even when Meng Yao tries to give her the biggest share of a food she likes.
It can’t be a coincidence.
Meng Yao needs to tell someone.
He needs to tell Nie Huaisang.
He tries, of course, and without surprise his former employer’s number has been terminated. He has the same luck trying to send an email. Nie Huaisang might as well never have existed. Meng Yao feels helpless, torn between tears and laughter. After spending centuries looking for his brother, Nie Huaisang just might have lost his chance due to being so damn dramatic. Serves him right, Meng Yao thinks, still bitter about being discarded so easily, and never getting a chance to see if things might work better in this life.
Bitterness doesn’t last. Meng Yao cares about Nie Huaisang, more than he should if he were a little smarter, and he knows how important finding his brother again would be for him. And if Nie Huaisang can’t be directly contacted, there’s always indirect ways.
It’s not that Meng Yao misses Lan Xichen, he tells himself that night, when Beastie is back with his mother and he starts writing a long text message on his phone. Well, it’s not just that, anyway. He does miss Lan Xichen, sweet and funny and so eager when talking about art. But more importantly, Lan Xichen probably has access to Lan Wangji, who clearly must know how to contact Nie Huaisang.
Texting Lan Xichen is a strategic choice.
The way Meng Yao's heart jumps inside his chest when Lan Xichen immediately replies is… it's strategic too. He's just glad that his plan is working.
How have you been? :)
I could have been worse. I've just realised something and I think it concerns you. I've told you about that kid I babysit, haven't I?
Little Beastie? Is she okay? D:
She's Nie Mingjue.
This time, the answer isn't immediate. Meng Yao stares nervously at his phone, wondering if Lan Xichen thinks he's lying, or planning something. Considering their first life, who could blame him?
But after a few minutes, his phone vibrates again.
Sorry, I dropped my phone and couldn't get it back from under the couch. Are you sure?? (⊙ˍ⊙)
It all fits. You could come meet her if you want. But it's him, I'm sure.
Did you tell Nie Huaisang???
I can't contact him. Are you in touch with Lan Wangji? Maybe he can warn him.
I have his number, I just texted him! I'll keep you updated! It's so wonderful if it's da-ge!! Can I really meet him? ╰(*°▽°*)╯
Her*?
I'll send you my address. If you can come tomorrow, she'll be there.
Are you sure? I don't think da-ge would still want me around. (≧﹏ ≦)
Meng Yao gives that question the consideration it deserves. It's not an unfair worry to have, and he'd be wondering the same if he hadn't known Beastie for so long.
I literally killed him, and he killed me. If she had to hate anyone it'd be me, but we get along great. We're no longer the same people we used to be. It's the same for her.
If you're sure, then I'll come! (❁´w`❁)
-
Meng Yao is very sure indeed.
So Lan Xichen comes.
It's odd to invite someone to his flat. It's a small place, a bit messy, full of trinkets and DVDs that Meng Yao would never admit to owning, not with the image he wants to create. He's always avoided guests. But having Lan Xichen over is as rewarding as it is terrifying. Lan Xichen brought some charming little cakes, as if he's visiting someone important, and he smiles at the sight of a movie poster on the wall, confessing he watched it so often as a teenager that the tape broke one day.
"It's my favourite too!" Beastie exclaims. "Meng-ge has it, you know! Can we watch it now?"
Normally, Meng Yao would point out that it's a little rude to ask that when they have a guest. But he can see that Lan Xichen is nervous and unsure how to act around Nie Mingjue, and maybe a movie will let them all relax.
In the end, they spend a pleasant afternoon, the three of them. Once Lan Xichen stops worrying that the Nie Mingjue of old will appear and shout at him for getting him killed, he starts chatting with Beastie about her favourite movies, what she's learning in school, what she wants to be when she grows up. She's very happy to answer, and very impressed when he explains he's a teacher, even though she's finding it hard to accept that most of his students are fully adult.
And when Beastie is back with her mother, Lan Xichen lingers for a while, tempted by the offer of Meng Yao's favourite takeaway.
“It’s amazing how much like him she is,” Lan Xichen says as they sit on the sofa to wait for the food to arrive. “It’s the first time he reincarnates, you know. At least, Wangji told me they’d never found any trace of him before.”
Guilt shoots through Meng Yao. It’s his fault if Nie Mingjue’s soul was so fractured it took him this long to be reborn. Or at least, it’s the fault of someone he was, once, which is nearly the same, and yet completely different. Meng Yao has learned from living and dying several times, and he’s lucky enough to live in a kinder world than Jin Guangyao did. It helps.
“She’s also different from him, though,” Lan Xichen continues, moving just a little closer, until they’re almost touching.
“We’ll, for starters she’s a kid,” Meng Yao points out, wondering if he should take the other man’s hand. If this had happened before the Hanshi, he would have, but he’s not sure where they stand now.
“It’s not just that. In that first life, I knew da-ge as a child too and he was…” Lan Xichen sighs and makes a vague hand gesture. “He was a lot. Way too serious sometimes. We all were, I suppose, but him most of all. The Nie tended to grow fast, to compensate for dying young. I’m… I’m glad that he gets to properly be a child this time. That she gets to be a child.”
“The world has changed,” Meng Yao says, finding the courage at last to brush his fingers against Lan Xichen’s. “Things aren’t always easy but they’re… easier, I suppose.”
Lan Xichen’s returns that touch, gentle and careful as always. This, too, is easier now than it was back then. It’s not easy, but there’s less pressure to conform, less demands to be good dutiful sons, and just a little more space to be their own people, to make their own choices.
Maybe in their next life they’ll meet again and it’ll be even easier to be like this. But even now, Meng Yao is ready to take the chances that his past self wouldn’t have dared to dream of. He leans toward Lan Xichen, hoping to kiss him, but a knock on the door interrupts them and he jumps to his feet to go get their food. The delivery man looks at him a little funny, but makes no comment. If Meng Yao is half as red as Lan Xichen, he deserves those odd looks.
Nothing happens again that night. The moment has passed, and after eating, Lan Xichen has to go home because he has engagements the day after that he can’t cancel.
It's not a date that night, no more than any of their previous encounters were.
It's not a date then, but next time, when Lan Xichen invites him to a restaurant, Meng Yao is informed in no unclear terms that this is, in fact, a date. They go see a movie after, and Meng Yao gets to kiss one of the two most handsome men in the world.
Life is good.
Life is really good, and yet Meng Yao wants more.
In spite of their efforts, Lan Xichen and him can't get in touch with Nie Huaisang to inform him that his brother has finally reincarnated. Even Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian are getting worried. From what they told Lan Xichen they haven't had any contact with him since the day they picked him up at the Hanshi.
"They say he's done that before," Lan Xichen tells him. "They think he'll return in a decade or two, maybe a little longer. Time is hard for immortals, they lose track easily."
That's all very well for them, but Meng Yao doesn't have a few decades to waste, and neither does Nie Mingjue. They're not immortals. One bad illness, a reckless driver, just tripping in the stairs, and it's all over until they reincarnate again, and Meng Yao is done with missed chances.
If he can't directly get in touch with Nie Huaisang, Meng Yao can make a few discreet calls to former buyers, and advise them to get their purchase asserted again, just in case. He makes sure to only contact people who bought legitimate artworks of course. He wants to make a wave, not get in trouble. If Meng Yao knows Nie Huaisang even half as well as he thinks he does, then even in hiding Nie Huaisang will be checking what’s happening in the world of art collectors, and he’ll hear about some of his buyers suddenly becoming fearful of fakes.
It’s a little mean perhaps, when Nie Huaisang is so proud of his counterfeits, but kindness has never been Meng Yao’s greatest quality.
Besides, it works.
One afternoon, when Meng Yao is alone at home, checking a job offer that he’s probably going to reject because he deserves better, there’s a knock on the door. Meng Yao considers ignoring it, but some of his elderly neighbours have been coming to ask for help with their phones or whatever new fancy blender their kids got them to make life easier. Usually, five minutes of easy work means free homemade food for his next meal, which is always a great deal.
When he opens the door, there’s a very old man waiting in the corridor alright, but free food is probably out of the question.
“Well, I’m here,” Nie Huaisang says. “Whatever is going on, it’d better be important.”
#xisangyao#xiyao#sangyao#xisang#counterfeit au#lan xichen#jin guangyao#nie mingjue#nie huaisang#mo dao zu shi#mdzs#jau writes
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on the tuesday that george begins to admit to himself that he feels differently about you, it's freezing.
the ac in your shared apartment has been off for weeks at that point, leaving the both of you to shuffle towards the living room earlier on in the day; wrapped in fluffy blankets normally kept on the middle shelf in the hall, torsos bundled up in hoodies—his some old one dream had sent him ages ago, yours one he'd let you borrow after seeing the way you'd shivered in the thin sweater you often inhabited.
george had decided to move out of his mom's house earlier that fall, after he'd endured just as much teasing from sapnap and dream as he could handle. he'd found an apartment easy—mostly thanks to the help of his two friends—but affording one on his own was the issue.
he'd eyed the bright red price marking on his monitor with disdain, and had immediately shut down any attempts dream had at paying for him. his teasing had always been annoying, but george also knew he'd done more than he could thank him for already; he'd traced his finger over the tiny ceramic elephant he kept on his desk.
george had nearly been at his wit's end when sapnap had suggested looking for a roommate. and it had seemed like a good idea; he'd be allowed to pick and choose who it was, analyze what type of person they'd be, if he wanted to share his space for the next year with that person.
which was how he'd met you.
of the few applications george had gotten—from an ad he'd spent hours pouring over, writing and rewriting until it was just right—he'd come back to yours the most. nothing much had stood out about the others, and even less about your own; you'd said you didn't make much mess, that you were still in college, so most nights were spent inside of your room studying.
the next day, he'd watched his phone ring against the counter of the painfully empty apartment, biting at the corner of his nails in nervousness. the thought of hanging up had crossed his mind just before you'd answered, a strange sort of crackle echoing throughout his spot in the kitchen as you let out a short, "hello?"
which was how you'd gotten here. three months later, the fall weather having tumbled it's way into cold, frigid nights and frustratingly windy days. george had spent so much time curled up on the corner of the couch—a couch you'd dragged him to buy on your fourth day here, something about the emptiness being saddening—that he's sure there's a permanent imprint of his form in the cushions. the heat in his room had stopped working the first week of winter; in some way, he thinks it had been a warning.
he'd been facing the television, back against the soft material of the cushions, when his shoulders had gotten strangely cold. a short walk over towards the air conditioning had confirmed his suspicions—the heater had broken, and even after waiting another hour to try again, it had remained a blank, glowing blue screen.
and now, he's here, pressed into the corner of the couch, material sinking under the weight of him trying his best to snuggle into any warmth the cushions may be hiding. you've been sat across from him since earlier that morning, feet tucked underneath you for any sort of heat, hands shoved into the hoodie he'd given you—whenever you move, which isn't very often due to conserving as much body heat as you can, he sees the stitched red logo of his channel against the grey fabric.
minutes into another rerun of some reality show that plays on the television, you speak. "it's cold." it's muffled, george notices, probably due to the way your nose is dug into the bunched material of the hoodie. he hums out an agreement, glancing sadly at his laptop resting atop the coffee table, mere inches away. he thinks of risking it, but as soon as he feels the biting cold against parts of his skin, all thoughts of this go out the window. editing could wait, even if he had to suffer through another shitty fight between two annoyingly loud cast members.
"like, unbearably cold." george likes you. you're a good friend, and you'd been willing to put up with his strange schedule from the moment you'd moved in. he'd never had to ask you to clean up any of your mess, and there were even times when you'd offered to take his turn at dishes when he'd had a lot on his plate. there was nothing to complain about when it came to you, so much so that he'd practically sung praises of you on late night calls with sapnap and dream.
george had even mentioned you on stream once, albeit accidentally, on an occasion where he'd been smiling from ear to ear at the fact that you'd brought him some sort of baked treat—"you look like you needed food, and i doubt you'd look away from your computer too much to eat a full meal"—but nonetheless.
it was with burning cheeks that he'd realised he'd never asked you if that was okay. to admit your presence to hundreds of thousands of people, people you didn't know and that didn't know you, but would obsess over any deal of information about you if it came from george's lips. but, you'd brushed it off with ease when he'd mentioned it, laughing with a soft, "it's perfectly fine, george. you tell them about a lot of your friends, don't you? i'm not any different." and after a beat, you'd stood from your chair, wood scuffing against tile, and had winked at him. "plus, georgenotfound talking about me? i should be flattered, huh?"
george is pretty sure he'd spent the rest of the night thinking about that; quackity had made fun of the way he'd kept zoning out, the way his jackbox answers had been considerably less funny that night.
so he did like you, even if he wasn't so sure what that meant. he knew he liked the way you played songs he liked on cleaning days. that he liked when you'd join him on the couch while he edited videos. bought the kind of soda he liked, even if you didn't. he thinks your spectacular, in the kind of way that makes him feel wide awake, like he's been shocked full of energy from knowing you. he thinks you look pretty in the morning time, stepping out the door for class; at night when you've been stressed over coursework.
the episode ends and another starts in the time it takes george to finally open his mouth to speak. "we could move closer." it's the first thing he's said since he'd asked if you'd wanted coffee earlier, voice as hoarse now from hours of being unused as it had been from the hands of sleep still holding onto him. his arms feel sore as he moved them out—he ignores the stinging cold that nips at his knuckles. a few seconds skip by of silence, his neck swarming with an uncomfortable sort of prickling.
"or no-"
"no! uh, no i mean, that's", george watches the couch dip with your knee dug into it, shuffling your body closer to his until you're fit against his side, pressing his arm against the back of the pillows, "that's good."
"yeah?" you're warm. the heat coming from your body spreads over him like a wildfire—he doesn't mind being burned. for the first time since he'd sent that angry email to your landlord, fueled with the desperate shivering that had taken on his body, he's glad that the heater had broken. he supposes this—george feels your arms wrap a little higher around him, head lean back against his shoulder—was worth the last week of freezing his ass off.
some building sense of courage towers in his chest, gathers in his throat, "hey, i want—"
and george watches as you look at him. what does he want? if he thinks about it, he wants to tell you that he thinks you're wonderful. that he likes that you let him use your shampoo when he runs out. that he remembered the night you'd watched all the austin powers movies with him because he'd been sad, even when you'd had school the next day. he wants to do just as much as you'd done for him in the three months he's known you, more than he could ever repay you for.
another part of him, a part that's selfish and wanting and probably a little too high off of the warmth he's been missing since he'd woken up—wants to kiss you.
he wants to.
so he does.
prompt taken from here : "the landlord still hasn’t repaired the heater in our apartment and we’re already wearing several layers of clothes, we need to find other ways to keep warm"
#georgenotfound#georgenotfound x y/n#georgenotfound x reader#georgenotfound x you#georgenotfound imagine#georgenotfound imagines#georgenotfound fic#mcyt#mcyt x you#mcyt x reader#mcyt x y/n#mcyt imagine#mcyt fic
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I’m still not prepared for this but I heard a little something that was said in this podcast episode so now I’m too nosy & here we are
Not them starting off by saying it’s the final episode I really don’t know if I can do this 😭
“If we ever come back we’ve got to change the name to Who Would Play Her”
I love that they’re making fun of the fact that there are so many other opportunities to see them - listen the podcast is very much tied with UNHhhh in my top faves when it comes to their content let me mourn in peace 😭
istg if I was sent on this fact finding mission & the only mentions of the IV were T joking that they were recording in a children’s hospital & K saying that T was hooked up to an IV
I’m assuming it was one of those in home situations but like … who would play her
“Normally when I’m getting fluids in a hotel room it doesn’t take 45 minutes, let’s just say that”
I would say it’s rude that they were obviously on Zoom or something together when they recorded this & we don’t have video but at this point I’m just glad they recorded audio for an episode instead of peacing out for this break with a rerun
I know this was a quarantine project but I’m too attached ☹️
I have A LOT of questions about what exactly is happening in this butane lighter section
“Have them on the pod” this is too cruel
“I haven’t talked to you in so long” 🥺
I love that they did that Facebook audio room 5 days before they recorded this but “I haven’t talked to you in so long” 🥺
“If there’s one story left that I haven’t told you yet”
“I’ve never heard this story” — can confirm that this is genuinely a new to being recorded story at least lol
I love that Trixie is obsessed with Michelle now
Like please this is so cute that T is giving K a rundown of Michelle’s book
T: You weren’t invited?
K: I don’t think so
T: Do you read your emails?
K: No, but —
T: Okay, let’s just stop right there
Katya’s wheeze laugh is truly my favorite thing
Oh we have a mention of an IV tech sitting with T because she had to apologize in advance for something she was going to read that K sent her
Not the tech contributing to the mung diving conversation
“That’s why you’re leaving the pod” I actually can’t even deal with the jokes about K leaving & T continuing on her own
K talking about her new apartment 🥺
T once again asking if she can do something with K’s body when she dies & K saying it’s going in the will
“I’ll tell you later”
T talking about how much she hates kids - please tell me why K thinks T is going to have kids
What if I just don’t listen to the last minute of this podcast episode, then it can’t end right?
“This is the last one for a while” — thank god that gives me hope but I’m still … yeah
Me sitting here romanticizing every damn thing they say since we don’t know if/when we’re getting a new episode
It is so goddamn cute that T is saying she can’t wait for K to see the secret project she worked on & K is saying she can’t wait to see it 🥺
No but now T is saying *she* might continue the pod with all guests I’m going to fucking cry - actually
Yes I am crying over a podcast & I realize how ridiculous that is
At least it ended on them both laughing
#the bald and the beautiful#trixie & katya#trixya#trixie mattel#katya zamolodchikova#katya zamo#Katya#but your dad just calls me katya#oh honeyyyyy
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Fangirl pt. 1
Genre: Romance, Slow Burn, Idol A/U
Pairing: BTS OT7 x reader
Rating: PG
Summary: Y/N, being a huge fangirl, finally got her chance to work alongside her favorite idol group as a backup dancer. She gets to know each member personally and realizes that her feelings may be more than fangirl-idol attraction.
Word Count: 3K
PARTS: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | .... masterlist
“It’s finally here!” I shouted as I bolted from my room towards the front door to greet the delivery man carrying my package. Even without looking at the mirror, I could feel my smile going up to my ears and my heartbeat furiously echoing through my chest. The delivery man handed me a medium sized box and stared at me as I reach out for the box with a huge smile plastered on my face. I signed the delivery form, closed the door and ran back inside my unit.
I ran to the living room and placed the box on the floor. I turned to my left and hurriedly rummaged for my cutter inside the drawer beside the sofa. I also took my phone on top of the said drawer and placed it on my lap. I swiftly sat down on the floor in front of my package with the cutter ready in my hand when I remembered something. I unlocked my phone and proceeded to video call my brother who’s at work. My brother’s name and his photo appeared on the screen as I wait for him to answer the call.
“Hey Y/N…” His face popped up on my screen. I silently giggled at the angle of his front camera when he answered the call. Not really flattering despite him being good looking. He must have placed the phone on a table directly below his face. “You know I’m at work right? Why did you call? Emergency?” I could hear keyboard sounds in the background. He must be busy typing on the computer as he didn’t bat an eye on his phone while talking to me.
“Yeah I know. I just wanted to share some good news” My camera is facing towards me with just my eyes peeking through screen. I was worried that maybe he’s with some people at work that might see me when he answers the video call and I’m not decent looking right now. “My package has arrived!” I low-key squealed as I pressed the ‘rotate camera’ button on the screen and directed the camera at the package. I could see my brother looking now at the phone. He placed his phone in front of him and leaned it on a stable surface for him to see me properly. He continued to type slowly on his keyboard as he steal glances on his phone screen.
“Don’t tell me…. You bought another merch?” He giggled as he looked at his phone screen and continued to type on his keyboard. He looked back at his computer screen after a second, with a smile on his face. I opened the package with my cutter on one hand and my phone on the other. Tearing through the tape, I can’t contain my excitement as i shrieked when my cutter got through the end of the tape. I released the cutter from my hand and pushed it aside.
“BTS Merch! Oh my god, I have been waiting for these for weeks. I got the latest album, more Tiny Tan figurines, and some concert goods from last tour.” I proceeded to open the box and showed my brother the contents. I felt accomplishment as I look at all the merchandise that has just arrived at home. My ARMY heart couldn’t contain the joy that I have right now. I shot my eyes back on the phone screen and saw my brother smiling as he looked at me through the phone screen.
“Hey, I’m happy you are happy but you know I work in Big Hit right? I work for them?” He stopped typing, took the phone back in his hands and brought the phone close to his face. “I could just easily buy these things for you with my employee discount.” And now his whole face is occupying my phone screen.
“Jiyong, I know but where’s the fun in that? I want to buy these items using my own money. Well, an employee discount is nice but I don’t want to abuse your privilege as I buy too much of their merchandise.” I snorted at the fact that I really do buy too much of their merchandise. Besides, when I use his employee discount, the items are delivered directly to him as he works inside the Big Hit Building. With the amount of merchandise that I buy, I don’t want to embarrass him and label him as a big fanboy especially with him working so close to the boys.
“If you weren’t my twin sister, I would totally laugh at you. Not that I think you’re crazy but you’re…. loyal” He puts emphasis on the last word. He respects my deep profound respect for the 7 boys but he thinks that maybe I have gone too far with the purchases. He placed his phone back in front of him, leaning on a surface. “Oh before I forget, did you read my email?” I was taken aback with topic change but I’m used to it as he does this all the time. I pressed the ‘rotate camera’ button once again for him to see my face.
“No, I haven’t opened my email yet. I went home so late last night. My last client in the gym arrived late so we finished late as well. A bummer.” I scoffed as I remembered the fatigue that enveloped my body yesterday. I work as a gym trainer/physical therapist full time and a dance teacher/choreographer as my sideline. I work at my friend’s gym located in the heart of Seoul as a gym trainer. I currently handle 7 clients, some who I have worked with for a few years already. I also teach dance classes at a small dance studio just a few blocks from where I live. Mainly, I handle BTS dance classes because duh, I am a full-blooded ARMY. I really tried to make my passion as a source of income and it warms my heart to see people having fun when I teach them those dances.
“Check it. Anyways, I gotta go. I still have a lot to do. As you know, the company is busy since BTS will be releasing another album sometime this year.” My brother currently works as a Recording Engineer in Big Hit. He used to brag to me that he’ll spend hours with BTS and TXT. I was jealous of course but I am so proud he’s working for them. Whenever I listen to songs from Big Hit artists, I try to think that he has contributed to a lot of songs despite not knowing what exact songs he has worked on. Another reason why I listen and support them.
We both said our farewells and dropped the call. As I took out all the contents of the package unto the floor, I used my phone on the other hand. I opened my mail and saw few unread emails. Some of them were from my subscriptions on Netflix and Spotify, which I barely read. On top of the list was my brother’s mail. I saw the subject “READ THIS FANGIRL!” and I laughed. Here I thought he sent me something urgent or important that needs my utmost attention. Must be another event or merchandise that they’ve yet to announce to the public.
I opened the mail and my eyes were glued to the first line of the message body.
“Big Hit is hiring backup dancers. See the forwarded email below, sis. I think they’re meaning to assign whoever they’ll hire as part of BTS dance team.” Did I just receive this email? It came from my brother so it must be true. He won’t prank me like that. If I apply, there’s no guarantee that I’ll be hired right? That’s too bad if I won’t be hired but there’s nothing to lose if I try to apply.
I left my package scattered throughout my floor and ran towards my laptop lying on my bed. I sat down on the floor beside my bed and opened my laptop. I felt like a kid but here I am, rushing to find my resume to apply for a new job that might eventually change my life.
….
It’s been a week since I applied as a backup dancer for Big Hit. I sent in my resume and a few videos of me dancing to some of their artists’ songs. I’m lucky to have known a lot of BTS’ songs and choreographies by heart and I might have tried to study some of their label mates’ songs as well. I haven’t received a reply back from them and I’m worried that I may not receive any response ever.
Apparently, BTS is known for having only male backup dancers as far as I know so it’s news to me that they’re hiring female backup dancers now. It got me thinking that this might also attract fellow fangirls like me to apply but knowing Big Hit, they wouldn’t want anything scandalous to happen just because they hired female backup dancers. I’m not saying that female dancers lack professionalism but how the boys are the top rank boy group in the country, female fans would be green with jealousy if they see female dancers dancing with them. Some Armies are really protective when it comes to the boys so it’s really shocking to hear that the company is finally considering this.
The day that I got the mail from my brother, I spent half of my day planning what dances to shoot and submit. I chose BTS’ Idol and Singularity, TXT’s Crown and a freestyle dance to Beyonce’s Yonce. I wanted to showcase my range in dancing by carefully choosing a variety of songs. I admit that the reason I may have applied to this job is partly because I’m a fangirl but nonetheless, my passion for dancing is bigger. I have been dancing since I was a kid but I was not this confident at the start. It’s hard to convince me to perform in front of a bigger audience, let alone a stadium full of fans. I slowly got over my fear little by little when I started teaching dance classes at the dance studio. The fear is still there and you may wonder why I am applying for this job when I’m scared shit in performing for a large audience. BTS taught me to love myself and I am really trying my best to go out of my comfort zone. I figured that this may be my best chance in doing so. Also, I get the benefit of working alongside them which is a big plus.
I couldn’t really focus on my job for the whole week. I find myself regularly checking my mail in the hopes of getting a response from Big Hit. 5 days and there’s still no mail. Maybe my email just went to their spam folder or maybe I typed in the wrong mail. On the 7th day while I was pulling out my clothes in the dryer, I heard a ping from my phone from across the hall. I left my phone on my bed and the laundry room is right beside my room. I noticed that the ping was my assigned tone for mails. I hurriedly took out all my warm dry clothes and unto the basket, closed the door of the dryer and turned the lights off in the laundry room.
“New Mail. Subject: Dance Team Application” I saw the notification banner and my heart just jumped out of my chest. I felt my forehead sweating profusely, fingers shaking and my throat closing up as I try to open my phone and check my mail. I silently and swiftly read the contents of the mail. After two seconds, I shrieked at the top of my lungs and threw my phone across my bed. I ran out of my room and in circles around the living room. Good thing I live alone so that I could just celebrate and make loud noises like this. I jumped up and down on the sofa while etching the image of the mail into my head. I buried my head on my pillows and shouted once more, emptying all the air out of my lungs.
I ran back into my room and read the mail again.
“Good day, Miss Y/N.
We have received your application and we are glad to say that we are impressed with your resume and skillset. We would like you to come in our office tomorrow so we can meet and talk personally with our dance team. We are glad to have you join our current dance team. Details of our meeting are expressed below.
Time: 10 am
Address: 42 Teheran-ro 108-gil, Daechi-dong, Gangnam-gu, Seoul, South Korea
Attire: Comfortable Casual
Please look for Mina at the front desk to escort you. Thank you.”
I still can’t believe what I’m seeing. Did I just got accepted? As a backup dancer? For Big Hit? Maybe for BTS? I’m such a lucky fangirl. I can’t wait for tomorrow.
….
It’s a good thing that my schedule is free today. I don’t have any clients in the gym scheduled for today and the dance studio is closed for today. I was so nervous and excited at the same time. I woke up at 6 am as I feel my jitters bothering my sleep. I tried to go back to sleep but I trashed the bed and rolled side to side for about 30 mins so I decided to go for a run. I turned on my Spotify and played my ‘Intense Run Playlist’ which mostly consists of high bpm BTS songs. There’s a jogging path near where I live and the scenery is filled with trees. Very calming, which I really need right now.
I arrived in front of the Big Hit Building around 8:30 am. I made sure to arrive early as I don’t want to be late for the meeting. I’m so anxious right now if I’m allowed to go up as early as 9 am or should I just arrived on time. I lingered outside and paced back and forth at a nearby shade. I wondered if I could visit my brother and stay with him for the mean time.
“Is she a stalker?” I heard whispers coming from my right as I slumped back at the pole where I’m taking shade just across the building. “That’s scary.” Three schoolgirls were standing a few meters away from me. They were staring and smirking at me. I wondered why they would think of me as such then I realized that I wore my hoodie up to cover half of my face.
“I’m not…”
“Good luck stalker-nim. You won’t get a glimpse of the boys.” They giggled and ogled me with judgmental looks with their arms across the chests. “Can you get away from the boys? We don’t want stalker armies like you.”
“As I said, I’m not a stalker and I’m older than you. Why are you talking to me in an informal tone?” I pull my hoodie off my head and slowly tread towards them. They laughed and ran away at the sight of me making my way to them. Sheesh, do I really look like a stalker?
I looked at my watch and it’s still 9:10 am. I guess I could try and visit my brother. The fresh morning air blew gently in my face, as if to welcome me, and be my merry playmate, and the sun looked at me with a warm and tender smile. What a nice start to my day, I thought. I put up my hoodie again and I was comfortable once more with the warmth my mere hoodie gave me.
“I have a meeting in your building today. Do you want to meet up? I’m not due until 10 am. – your adorable look alike” I texted my brother and inserted my phone back in my pocket. I breathed in the fresh breeze and not a second later, my phone pinged. I pulled out my phone to see my brother’s name on the screen.
“Lucky, I’m on a coffee break. I’ll be down in a sec.” he replied. A grin was present on my face as I stood up from where I was leaning. I skipped from across the street towards the building. I looked above at the sky and towards the top of the Big Hit Building and when I returned my gaze back in front of me, I was met by a dark haired man in his mid-twenties. I bumped into him and was knocked down at the side of the street. I exclaimed in pain as I rub my backside.
“Hey look where you’re go…” I looked up and immediately recognized the face. The man was wearing a grey Fear of God shirt paired with black baggy pants. His face was half covered by a black mask and his hair was kept away from his face with a black headband almost occupying his whole forehead.
“You should be the one watching you’re going. Crossing the street while prancing around like that.” He scoffed and continued to make his way towards the building. He didn’t even help me up. I sneered back.
“I’m sorry. I assure you that he’s not usually like this. He’s in a bad mood.” Two hands were suddenly around my elbows, propping me up from the ground. I turned my head and saw a woman around mid-twenties as well. She was carrying an opened big black bag propped on her right shoulder with filled with piles of unruly papers stuck inside. When I finally was able to stand up properly, she took off her hands from me and bowed in apology. She swiftly followed the man and shouted, “Yoongi, wait. I can explain.”
So I was right. It was Suga. All the images of a funny and loving Min Yoongi ran through my mind. Just like a scary movie, it was replaced by a disgusted look he shot at me a while ago. Did he…. Maybe he thought I was a stalker or something? I guess if I really looked like one then I don’t blame him for shooting those looks at me. However, a decent person would help anyone up in that situation.
I beat the dust off my hoodie and slowly treaded towards the building’s entrance. Not a really good way to start my first interaction with anyone from BTS, I thought.
Next part: 2
#bts#bts fanfiction#bts ot7#bts ot7 x reader#bts ot 7 fanfiction#ot7 x reader#bts kim namjoon#bts kim seokjin#bts min yoongi#bts junghoseok#bts park jimin#bts kim taehyung#bts jeon jungkook#bts imagine#bts idol au#rm x reader#suga x reader#jin x reader#jhope x reader#jimin x reader#v x reader#jungkook x reader#bts backup dancer#bts x backup dancer#backup dancer ff
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Hey Neighbor (Part 23)
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Quill x Reader
Word Count: 3787
Warnings: fluff, light angst
Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.
A/N: Sorry for the delay but it’s here now, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!
HEY NEIGHBOR PART 22 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST
It was hard to come to the realization that Bucky did want a relationship but you didn’t cut it. The weekend at the wedding was a test and you failed. You may have gotten high scores but obviously there was something about Claire that made her better than you. You’ve known Bucky for almost a year but in one date she was able to capture his heart in a way you never could.
The truth sits in your stomach like a rock, feeling the pain each time you move. It’s a boulder tied to your leg and you’re drowning but Peter cuts the rope, with soft gazes and a tender touch, sweet words and sweet sounds he pulls from you as you’re tangled together in bed.
You let go, let yourself be pulled into a bright world where Peter is waiting, because he actually wants you. There is no test. No competition with the exception of Groot. Even Rocket warmed up to you, the temperamental animal preferring to cuddle up in your lap over Peter’s. There was light now that the sea was no longer about to swallow you whole.
The group chat would still go off with messages about plans but you chose not to attend, taking the time to be alone with Peter or hang out with his friends. Drax was a fellow firefighter, a burly man, bald as an egg and covered in tattoos. Thor was a firefighter too, tall with cropped blond hair and biceps bigger than your head and then there was Gamora, the first friend Peter made when he moved to the city. And by friend you think he meant girlfriend though they have more of a platonic relationship now. She was effortlessly beautiful with rich brown eyes and hair, with the ends dyed a bright magenta that complimented the warmth of her skin.
It was nice to hang out with different people and it opened you up to seeing a new side of Peter when he was with his friends. Sometimes he was the Peter you knew, lighthearted and playful, teasing Drax for being too serious to understand a joke, other times Drax would make fun of him; a booming cackle coming from deep in his belly as he laughed at Peter’s expense. Most of the time Gamora would roll her eyes, calling them both idiots.
Thor did his fair share of teasing too although much less now that he was transferred to a new station. It’s probably for the best considering how often he and Peter seem to be in competition with each other though it’s all friendly underneath and you could tell how close everybody was.
They acted like a family and quickly accepted you as a part of theirs but your heart ached behind your smile, missing your own family. Steve who was like a brother to you, Wanda your sister, Peggy the mom of the group who was always there to care and comfort you if you were hurt, and Natasha the other mom that struck fear into the hearts of anyone who would dare hurt her family. Sam and Clint were the troublemakers and then there was Bucky.
You couldn’t think of how to describe him when you didn’t know what was real anymore. The Bucky that exists today is not the person you first knew; the man that was passionate about his music but apologized the moment he realized he was inconveniencing you. He didn’t have to do that. He could have been your asshole neighbor but instead he became a friend.
Peter takes your hand, jolting you from your thoughts as he pulls you off the couch to dance to “Come and Get Your Love.” It’s a fun distraction and you allow yourself to enjoy being swept up by it and surrounded by Peter’s affection.
Groot became accustomed to seeing you in Peter’s apartment, giving you a big greeting as you came over for dinner after a long day of work. Peter was able to steal a kiss before the big dog demanded more of your attention.
“Babe, can I use your laptop?” you asked, kneeling down to rub Groot’s stomach, hitting the spot that made his leg twitch.
Peter stepped away from the stove, wiping his hands quickly on a towel before getting his laptop from the bedroom. With Groot satisfied by his tummy rubs you were free to say hi to Rocket though he was sleeping.
“Here you go,” Peter said, handing you the laptop and leaning in for a better greeting. His tongue slipped past your lips as he deepened the kiss, pulling away when the hiss of boiling water splashed against the flames.
You set the laptop down on his table, bouncing your leg as you opened the cover and waited for it to load. Commencement was next month and you hadn’t applied for graduation yet. An email reminder you got earlier today sent you into a panic as the deadline was coming up.
It was not like you to forget something as important as this. Sure, there’s been a lot going on in the last month but there is no excuse to have let this slip your mind. You’re eager to take care of it right away, ready to log on to your school’s website but the last page Peter browsed was still up and it made your jaw drop.
“Oh my god Peter!” You flipped the laptop around to face him as he craned his head back. “What is this?” you asked, bursting with laughter.
Peter bloomed red like a rose, eyes going wide as he laughed, “Oh shit, sorry!”
The Sex Files, a threesome with an Agent Mulder-esque man having sex with two alien women, a busty brunette painted dragon fruit pink and the other a slim redhead with Wicked Witch green skin.
“Aliens, really?” You raised a brow questioning him with a smirk.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, slightly embarrassed. “It was on the main page. I gave it a chance,” he shrugged, chuckling.
You shook your head laughing, opening up a new tab so you could finally submit your graduation application. As Peter finished preparing dinner you ordered your cap and gown, smiling a little wider when you saw the citron hood, a symbol of all the hard work you’ve put in towards your Master’s degree.
Over dinner you teased Peter a little more about his video. “It’s fine if you’re into that but you won’t catch me painting my skin. Do you know how messy that would be?”
“You might as well. If I had a black light, I bet this place would already look like a Jackson Pollock painting.”
Groot lifted his head at your loud burst of laughter, playfully shoving Peter’s arm. You wouldn’t be lying if you said his joke was still on your mind later that night, lying together in his bed after having just added to the invisible art.
Hot sticky skin against each other’s, the sheets lightly draped over you as the mugginess of the air settled in the room. Your eyes closed languidly, watching the rise and fall of Peter’s chest as you drifted to sleep.
The sun blazes on the street of a sweltering Sunday morning as you walk towards your destination, wiping the sweat from your brow as you huff down into the seat beside Natasha and Wanda whose hair were nearly identical now though Wanda’s had a more fiery copper tone. A tiny smile pulls at your lips when you see mimosa flutes already on the table; now it was officially time for brunch.
You apologize for not seeing them as much lately and thankfully they understood. Wanda was practically inseparable from Sam when they first started dating so she definitely didn’t blame you, although she still thought you were making a mistake.
Bucky was in the back of your mind though you did your best to ignore the fact that you were at the same place you met Wanda almost a full year ago to complain about your new neighbor. So many things have changed but obviously it’s for the better.
“So…” Natasha said with an enticing tone in her voice. She wiped crumbs off of her lips, a faded cherry red from the lipstick that still clung to them. “I have big news.”
“You’ve set a date!” “You’re pregnant!” You and Wanda spoke at the same time, waiting with anticipation to see who was right.
“No,” Natasha laughed. “I made partner!”
“Congratulations, that’s amazing!” you said, leaning over to hug her.
Wanda followed suit and as you sat back down you kept your lips pressed tightly together, eyes widening as Natasha raised a brow to question Wanda about her guess. She sunk back into her seat, clenching her teeth with embarrassment but Natasha was only kidding (or maybe she wasn’t, sometimes you couldn’t tell.)
“Clint and I are going to throw a party once it’s official, nothing big. Y/N is it okay if I invite Bucky?”
Natasha’s turned towards you, holding your gaze with compassion overflowing in the depths of her eyes. She knew what happened between you and Bucky. Whether someone told her or she put it together herself, the latter most likely, it didn’t matter. She knew. She knew and she wasn’t looking to force a resolution but to make sure that you as her friend would be comfortable being around Bucky. You assumed she realized you weren’t only spending time with Peter because of your new relationship but still Natasha didn’t question your actions. She waited patiently, a soft smile on her pillowy lips until you gave an answer.
“Of course Tash, you can invite Bucky.” Wanda started to look as green as her avocado toast as she gave you a worried stare. “I promise, I don’t have a problem with him.”
No one questioned your answer despite the opinions they held back silently and the rest of brunch was spent playing catch up since Steve’s birthday. You hadn’t really missed much, Clint was sleeping until noon most days, Steve was still growing in his beard, Bucky was… still with Claire. Yeah. You figured. You may have checked her Instagram again, seeing a picture of two coffee orders tagged at The Grind House.
After leaving the girls you went home with a seed of anxiety planted in your stomach, knowing it will grow larger every day until Natasha’s party where you would have to see Bucky and Claire again. You wanted to get this over with, rip the band aid off and see them but sometimes life liked to mess with you. Natasha’s party wouldn’t be until the following weekend because this weekend she and Clint were going to Vermont so he could participate in an amateur archery tournament.
You try your best not to focus on the countdown until the party despite the sequoia sized tree of anxiety, each limb a different scenario playing out in your mind of all the terrible things that could happen. It didn’t help that this was your last week at Metro-General as the semester was over. While you were thrilled to have finally finished your hours leaving Elena made you emotional.
This was the end of a long journey, a ride you never expected to be on for so long but now it was over; this is the end of the line and part of you doesn’t want to get off the train. Your legs are atrophied from being in the same spot, Stark Industries, Metro-General, soon it would be time to walk away from both but you’re not sure you remember how. The real world is scary and your doubts and fears are starting to take over.
On the Monday before the party there’s a knock on your door and all you can do is smile. You’ve expressed to Peter just how anxious you are about actually achieving your dream. He comforted you, reminding you there was nothing to worry about and to cheer up. Peter always knew how to bring out your smile and you suspect he’s orchestrated another flower delivery for you. A pre-graduation congratulations of sorts, something to lift your spirits and get your mind back on track to where it needs to be.
You open the door without looking, expecting to see a grand bouquet, or even courier holding balloons but instead there was Bucky. You felt the tree twist within your body, growing to an enormous scale. Your eyes catch sight of an item in his hand, a hanger wrapped in plastic and beneath it the dress you wore to the wedding.
“Hey nei– ” He cleared his throat, speaking your name instead after watching the way your whole body dropped at the sight of him, from the smile that faded to the slouch of your shoulders. “I needed to get my suit dry cleaned and I forgot about this. I got it dry cleaned too so, uh… don’t worry about it.”
He rambled a bit, nervous, handing the dress to you.
“Thanks.” You said, biting back the nauseous feeling that crept its way up your throat.
“Going to Nat’s party?” he asked, hoping small talk would open the door to a real conversation.
Yes, I was friends with them first. “Yeah.” The curtness stayed in your mind only though your short answer wasn’t any friendlier.
Bucky nodded his head, “Kay… cool,” he said, with an uneasy tone that tried to pass itself off as calm. “See ya there.”
You smiled with tension, shutting your door. Tears were burning in your eyes, falling down your cheek as you jolted at the sound of his door slamming beside yours. Your dress was tossed to the side as you ran into the bathroom, running the water in the shower to mask the sound of your body heaving over the toilet. Bile burned up your throat, hot tears streaked down your cheeks and your heart felt like it was being torn apart by wolves.
Avoiding Bucky didn’t help you get over him, and seeing him now, clutching your dress… a painful reminder of the weekend you spent together made it all worse. You wanted to call Wanda, to cry in her arms again, or Steve or even Val, to get drunk with and forget this ever happened. But you couldn’t call anyone. You couldn’t do anything but sink onto the cool tile floor of the bathroom, wishing you never met Bucky, sorry that he ever moved next door in the first place. You cried until there was nothing left to give.
Now that you were done with your internship you were back at Stark Industries full time, devoting your days to The September Foundation, and helping coordinate a guest list for the opening gala. It was a lot of work that kept your mind very occupied so when it was time for Natasha’s party you were feeling better.
Better but not great.
Every time you glanced over at Claire’s arm looping through Bucky’s you felt weak and gripped Peter with a tighter hold. Each time he would lean down to kiss your temple, to hug you, hold you, show affection in any way while being ignorant of the real meaning behind your touch.
Claire waved her hand in front of Bucky’s eyes, having apparently been calling out to him though he didn’t hear it. He was caught up in his thoughts, lost in a tunnel that plunged him further into darkness every time Peter caressed your sweet skin.
He apologized, snapping himself back, taking note of the concern held in Claire’s eyes. He forced his muscles to fake a smile but it was useless, just as he tried to force the emotion that was absent in their kiss. Does Claire feel it too? It’s been that way for a while, empty actions, going through the motions so Bucky can continue to convince himself that something is there but he can’t do it anymore.
The next day he breaks up with Claire and it isn’t a surprise. They part on amicable terms and while Bucky should feel better he doesn’t. You’re still with Peter, and it was his stupidity that sent you straight into his arms.
Claire was supposed to be something special, that relationship he had been longing for but instead she was just a distraction, a voice to occupy his mind, a warm body to keep him company, but none of it worked. Her voice was nails on a chalkboard compared to yours, her body a pair of dice thrown across a half empty puzzle; it wasn’t a match, she wasn’t you.
Now it’s Bucky’s turn to avoid you, staying quiet in his apartment, taking the stairs so he didn’t have to chance meeting you in the elevator. He can’t handle it. He walks quickly past your door, his heart wrenching every time he’s forced to think of you, remembering what he lost.
Emptiness creeps in like a fog, loneliness settles in the empty cavern of his heart, without you life has lost its rhythm.
It’s late in the day when you receive an email from your school that sends you reeling. You couldn’t graduate. You thought it was a mistake, it had to be! There was no way this was correct.
Shaking fingers dialed the school as shaky hands stumbled across the keyboard, logging into your records and double checking that every class you’ve taken over the years is complete with a grade, and then you saw it. Your internship. INCOMPLETE.
Upon the school’s review you didn’t have enough hours, which is impossible because you have been busting your ass since the Fall semester to do this. You planned it, calculated every day, every hour and yet somehow you were wrong.
Your voice cracked as you begged for a resolution, bawling to the person over the phone that you’re thankful can’t see the way tears and snot are streaming down your face, sorry for the fact that they have to hear the way you loudly blow your nose into the phone.
By the end of the conversation you have a plan but it isn’t one that you like. You can walk for commencement next week but you would have to make up the hours and won’t receive your diploma until December.
You cleaned your face, barely, hoping to avoid everyone as you made your way down to Steve’s desk. You broke the moment you saw him, trying to keep your composure as best as you could until he was ready to leave.
Steve was devastated for you as was Wanda when you spoke to her that night. Natasha was already looking into your school’s policies to see if there was any legal recourse. “We can prove negligence on their behalf by failing to communicate in a timely manner to you the student that you did not meet the necessary requirements for graduation, therefore breaching their contractual obligation to provide adequate course guidance in accordance with…”
She went on with more legal jargon before you stopped her. “No, Nat this is my fault. It was my responsibility to calculate my hours. Would it have been nice to have an accurate figure to go off of? Sure, but I was the one who should have double checked. If I went in for an audit I would have known exactly how many hours I needed to get complete before the deadline.”
Natasha let out a sigh of frustration, wishing there was something more she could have done. Instead she let you lean against her, curled up on her couch as Clint prepared a giant bowl of ice cream topped with whipped cream, M&Ms and chocolate syrup.
“Thanks guys, I really appreciate this,” you sniffled, wiping a stray tear away.
It was nice to have your friends around for the night considering Peter was working. You could have texted him about this but chose not to. His shifts are long and stressful as it is and you didn’t want to add to whatever might already be on his mind.
But the next day you went to his apartment after work, somberly dragging yourself in through the door. Groot was able to put a smile on your face, and Rocket too, sticking his little hand out to try and unlock his cage upon hearing your voice but it wasn’t enough to stop the tears.
You took Peter by surprise as you wrapped your arms around him, soaking through his shirt as you cried. He held you close, stroking your hair gently as he whispered, “It’s okay. Whatever it is, it’s going to be okay.”
Peter walked you to the couch, his thumb softly wiping away tears, squeezing your hand in his as he waited for you to let him know what was going on. And when you did he let out a sigh of relief. “You scared me so much. I thought something bad happened.”
You were taken aback by his reaction, confused for a moment because maybe in your tear riddled conversation the truth about what happened got lost.
“Peter, I can’t graduate. I have to wait until December.”
“Right but you’re going to graduate. You can still go to commencement and all you have to do is make up the hours right? Did you talk to Elena?”
Of course you spoke to Elena, she was sorry to hear about what happened and is going to work something out with you but that wasn’t the point.
“Peter, I don’t think you understand what this means to me. One of my best friends died from a situation that could have been prevented if a social worker was involved. Ever since then my only goal in life was to become a social worker, to never let something like that happen again. And now I have to wait four months to graduate, four months before I can apply for jobs and go on interviews.”
“It’s just four months.”
Whatever Peter said after you didn’t hear. Everything was white noise as four simple words destroyed your soul. How could he not understand? It doesn’t matter that you will be able to make up your hours (which you will), it doesn’t matter that you are allowed to walk for commencement next week (which you won’t because it isn’t real). What mattered was that after all this time, all of your hard work, the sacrifices you’ve made, working full time while you were in school, exhausting yourself to the bone with your internship, that none of it was enough and you still have to wait. It isn’t just four months, it's a painful setback for your dreams.
Peter doesn’t get it.
Bucky got it...
PART 24
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