#seriously I am contemplating writing an essay | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bitletsanddrabbles · 2 years

Text

I’ve seen all sorts of posts about what people miss about fandom in ‘the old days’ and ‘old time fanfiction’, so I thought I’d do one myself. You know what I miss?

I miss the threat of cease and desist orders.

And before you go “Ah, yes, another post on how we were getting away with so much!” let me stop you right there by pointing out: we weren’t getting away with shit. Anne Rice made that very, very clear. Everything that we ‘got away with’ we ‘got away with’ because the creators themselves supported fan fiction or, at the very least, didn’t bother to come after us. Anyone who decided to shut us down had but to call their lawyers and we were toast.

So what was so good about that, you ask? What was good about the continual worry that it would all go south? If we weren’t part of the Glorious Rebellion Against The Creator?

One word: Manners.

The rest of the fandom could be as nasty a bunch of bullies as they liked. They could write essays on how their high school physics instructor told them it was impossible to fly on a magic broomstick and how that knowledge made them so superior. They could bully actors into giving up their careers or, better yet!, contemplate suicide. They could be as intolerant and unforgiving and demanding as they liked, but the writers?

We had to at least pretend to respect the creators and view them as actual people. We needed our disclaimers saying “I own nothing except my student debts and a pile of dirty laundry! Please, oh creator, do not break me open like a bag of groceries and dance on my sticky bones!” No, really, those were things people actually said in their disclaimers. We needed those to keep ourselves safe.

Unlike the rest of the fandom, we could not take that safety for granted. We couldn’t afford it. Thought something should have been done differently? “I get where the author was going with this, but I’d have like to have seen it done this way instead”. Thought a scene would have been more interesting from the view of a side character rather than the main? “I thought I’d explore this through the eyes of John Doe over here.” We could still write everything we do now, and for all of the same reasons, but we could not get away from the fact that the creator was a human being who had reached into their skull and pulled out something that inspired us.

It protected us in other ways too. When people came at us complaining that fan fiction was disrespectful to the author, we had a thesis paper’s worth of disclaimers: disclaimers thanking the author for their work; disclaimers promising the reader that we were just having fun; disclaimers saying in plain words that this was not to be taken seriously, but was written as finals-week-therapy at three-bloody-am. Even the people who were lying in their disclaimers, who really did look on the creators as the lowest form of life, had to pretend to have respect and that, in turn, made sure they could never completely overlook the truth of the matter: without the creator, they wouldn’t have anything to write about.

We were Emperors and the threat of a law suit was the man following us in the parade, whispering in our ears: Remember, one day you will die.

It kept us humble.

It kept us respectful.

It kept us, to some degree, empathetic. After all, we were writers too, weren’t we? We were just having fun, mind, or practicing our writing, or whatever, but the important part was that we were all writers.

Maybe it’s a reflection of the people I spent time with, but it showed in our meta too. When talking about characters, the other fans might sprinkle their posts with snide comments about authorial intent, but we stuck to observations about the characters themselves. “But of course, the creator didn’t think about that” was again a non-writer line. If we wondered what the creator had been doing in a particular plot, it was because we were genuinely curious and wanted to know, not because we wanted to look clever. If the creator ended the series like a Shakespearean comedy rather than a John Webster piece, we didn’t sit around debating the likelihood that the whole cast would be eaten by a rabid rhino the second the credits stopped rolling, because really, let’s look at the creator’s history here. We celebrated our happy ending.

We had conversations because we wanted to enjoy things. We were in the fandom to have fun, period, end stop.

This was really important when I was in my twenties and working on getting a B.A. in Creative Writing. The idea of publishing, particularly in a pre-self-publishing craze, was daunting. Basically everything the big publishing houses put out were novels. That was a lot of work, a lot of revision, a lot of money for editors and agents and shipping things around. You were looking at a lot of rejection, so much so that writers like Steven King gave advice in interviews and autobiographies on how to deal with the sea of ‘sorry, not interested’. And it wasn’t much money, usually. The idea that, if you made it, you could wind up with millions of ‘fans’ bitching about how the book you got on eating disorders in 1893 had given you bad information and calling you a no talent, idiotic hack because you believed it was enough to make someone just give up and go into landscaping. However, the knowledge that people might be inspired to write their own things based off of your work, that they might recognize you as the source of their inspiration, and that there might wind up being a communal, living body of work based on something that you pried out of your brain….that was exciting. That was worth it. That made being part of a fandom and the thought of having one of your own encouraging and fun and supportive.

To twenty something me, that made being a published author seem like an infinitely better job than packing groceries.

Then we got lawyers. We got rights. That should have been a good thing, and in ways it is, but we now have the privilege of being entitled, spoiled bullies like the rest of the fans, and God forbid we not make the most of our privileges. ‘Having fun and enjoying the thing’ has given way to ‘find as many things to be dissatisfied about as possible’. Telling the nay-sayers ‘no, we’re all just having fun’ has turned into a battle to defend our hobby against someone armed with a list of fiction summaries along the lines of ‘fixing the plot because the author is a no talent hack who couldn’t write their way out of a wet paper bag!’

Forty something me packs groceries for a living and plans on doing it until I retire. Yeah, self-publishing is a thing now, and I’m financially stable enough to do it. I could finish a rough draft (Hell, I have one that’s probably good enough to pitch at an editor), hire someone to help me clean it up, and get it out into the world.

I just don’t want to. It might do well, and then what? I get to hear all about how I’m an idiot because side plot B didn’t make sense to five people? About how someone had a great revelation about character C and it’s a pity I couldn’t be clever enough to have actually thought about it myself? About how they know that my story is really super cringe, but they found a way to think about it that I never intended and actually makes it good? About how all of the problematic parts are clearly because I’m majority? (Well, you know, mixed status, but that just means ‘worst of both worlds’.)

Working retail I have to put up with a constant stream of superior people being nasty and critical, but I don’t have to spend more money than it takes to drive to work. I don’t have to let people see my thoughts and dreams. I don’t have to hand them characters that I’ve poured hours of thought and care into, developing them to be the best, most human people I can manage, only to have them run over with steamrollers and be criticized for making them so flat.

Not to mention it pays better.

No, really. People assume that once you’ve published a book or worked on a TV script, you’re set for life, but I’ve already made more money this year boxing groceries than a bottom tier novelist. And before you say ‘oh, but the bottom tier is practically unknown and doesn’t need to worry about fans’, that is not the point. The point is that a lot of well known creators have second jobs. They still get routinely attacked by people who claim to like their work.

It’s not encouraging anymore. It’s not supportive. And I’m sure there are people out there all ready to say ‘Oh, but with you it will be different because-” no it won’t. I’m not that special. I’m not special at all, except in that way that everyone is a unique and special individual, and that statement applies to every human being in history, including the genocidal maniacs.

There are days I’m not even sure why I bother with fan fiction anymore, except that I want to write and this is what’s inspired me. Half the time it feels like people just see my comments section and go ‘Ah yes! A fresh forum to complain about the creator!’ or my meta and go ‘Oh yeah! I can add to this, and get in a few digs on the creator to boot! Gee, I can’t believe you forgot that part!’ And I want to get better at writing and that requires feed back and being able to ask people who have different specialties than I do how things work and…

I just want to be able to enjoy talking to people about things again. I want to be able to read a great observation on a character and not have it ruined by the obligatory “But of course, we have to take into account who’s writing it!” comment. I want to be able to see a story with an awesome looking summary that isn’t labeled “fixing what the creator ruined by being a no-talent hack”. I want to be able to see I have a comment and not have to hold my breath that it’s yet another person complaining about what a horrible, awful thing the creator did by writing a scene that makes me feel represented in a way nothing else ever has and how much they hate it and of course I hate it too, right? I want to not feel bad about supporting a fan author knowing full well that they’re writing because they think the original creator sucks and will interpret everything possible in a way that reflects badly on them.

I’m glad we have the right to create fan works without fear of repercussions, but I’m really not sure we deserve it.

#writing #fanfiction #fandom #let's see how long until i delete this one

19 notes · View notes

082112 · 6 months

Text

On a Hetalia kick again (hate Hetalia! Obsessed with a single core idea from it that does nothing to cancel out the hate, which is well-deserved, but does leave me constantly contemplating on the nature of memory, heritage, and history). I don’t know why - must’ve woken up in a strange mood. I thought about George DeValier fics, scrounged up a handful of them and read them like if I found a bag of old chips in the pantry and ate them all. I’m pretty grossed out by the stories for a variety of reasons, most of them obvious, but I was thinking about these manufactured aesthetics of fiction and representations of characters and wondering what exactly I found charming enough about them to read. Thought a little more fondly about YOSB’s work, looked her up again. Stayed up (it’s 5:32AM right now) and ranted to Sun a bit about the fallacy of the nation-state in recently written history. Remembered this one girl who is my friend Sophia’s opp, tried stalking her online, found another girl by the same name who graduated from Harvard, looked through her Instagram page enviously, was struck by a thought: what if I transferred to Harvard?

Oh, fuck. The way 18-year-old me would be in deep internal hysterics and debilitating pain right now, intense enough that I can even imagine a spectre of it as I’m writing this. But the difference, I told my mom, calling her at 5am excitedly, was that in the past I’d see it as a concession I made the wrong choice of undergraduate institution, and if I transferred the chances were so astronomically low that I’d probably get rejected, and oh oh oh god forbid I’d get rejected from Harvard again - would it nullify my first win?

But now I see it very differently - I did not make a mistake. I grew tremendously from my experience at MIT and loved it in retrospect deeply and experienced a lot of pain there. But also joy, deeply, also. I was thinking to myself the other day: I always said I was in deep pain all the time for my first 1, 1.5, 2 years. Which is true, to an extent, because I remember it vividly and it was crushing sometimes, and all-consuming always. But what I forget is that I also experienced these really deep, simple joys, and learned much about myself. What do I want? When do I hate, and is my hate pure (pure as in constructive, sincere, from a place of innocent pain)? How should I regard everyone in the rest of the world? So wanting to transfer now is not a concession of weakness or wrongness - it comes from a place of whim, but also courage and curiosity. I have no doubt I would experience great hardships if I successfully did. But I also think that it could be transformative and beautiful and wonderful, if I let it be.

Also some practical concerns:

- They’re both in Cambridge. My friends will still be there. Everything I know will still be there.

- I WILL be giving up these lives I’ve already planned for myself - UROPs, MIT EMS, MINCE, MISTI postgrad plans, et cetera… but new lives may unfold as well.

- I can still cross-register and finish the classes I want to take at MIT!

- The odds are around 12/1500, so they’re so astronomically low I’m not expecting to get in anyway. And then I do not have to forfeit the life and vision I’ve worked so hard to imagine, and that would be pretty relieving! But regardless, writing the essays will be a good exercise in reflection, I think, even if I am not admitted.

ARGH! I seriously need to sleep…

6:30am update: I don’t even know if I want to transfer at all!!!! I’m loopy from not sleeping yet, lol.

0 notes

thewritingcoconut · 2 years

Text

A Framing Essay for two upcoming works

Here is a short framing essay for two pieces of prose I am going to post. The pieces and this essay were originally written for a midterm in college, hence the references to the assignment. By sharing these pieces, I hope to share a bit about myself. Hope you enjoy!

For my midterm assignment, I decided to do one thing I rarely do with my writing: Get personal.

When it comes to my writing, I find it easier to write about someone else than to write about myself. It’s part of the reason why I never could get into journaling despite it seeming to be such a vital part of many writers’....Origin? Process? Experience? Something like that.

Perhaps it’s because my journey as a reader began with dissociation and escapism. I didn’t think that my life was particularly interesting, so I lived vicariously through the characters I read about.

I started reading to detach myself from my reality so why would tether myself back to it in my writing?

However, I have matured since then. A bit of character development if you will.

I’ve decided to let myself be vulnerable in the spirit of the authors we have read so far in the semester. Many of them spoke about issues that were quite personal to them, either drawing upon their life experiences or the experiences of others that share their culture. Many had a cause to stand for and a grand message to send. I, on the other hand, don’t have that. Or didn’t at the time I wrote the pieces at least. Perhaps my reader will find more meaning from my words than I found writing them. But that’s besides the point. All I had to give was myself, so myself I gave.

A recurring theme within the two essays I submitted is Reflection. This is because for both pieces I scrutinized myself and put my findings to paper.

The Mirror originated from an in-class prompt inspired by the poetry of Tommye Blount. While I was unable to create a piece according to the instructions of the prompt, I still maintained the presence of the mirror.

The Mirror is an essay-narrative about race and romance. As I’ve gotten older I’ve realized that at some point I’m going to want a romantic relationship and in the multicultural setting that I’m in, who I would want for a partner may not be of the same race and ethnicity as I am. Even if they are, my skin color, my blackness would be a factor in our relationship or my attempts at a relationship whether I like it or not. Growing up, I’ve learned that while my friends and family love and cherish me, society generally….doesn’t, because I’m a black female. That usually extends to romance, where I hold less romantic value because I’m black. Even within the black community, some consider being able to date a white woman as a status symbol while viewing black women with disdain. The Mirror is a space where I contemplate these issues and verbalize my insecurities about them.

Writing Myself as an OC addresses a different part of my life. A huge part of my life as a writer has been writing fanfiction and being a part of fan communities. A lot of my writing is inspired by the books, comics, and shows I consume and augmented by the discussions I read online.

Writing Myself as an OC demonstrated my shifting outlook on myself and writing about myself over time. I tried to take on a conversational tone with the piece because I felt that the topic would be something I would tell a friend now that I’m more open with myself. When I was younger, writing fanfiction was something I was a bit ashamed and embarrassed about because it wasn’t a “legitimate” art form and wouldn’t be taken seriously. I wouldn’t talk about it with anyone I knew in real life because of it. However, I’m a lot older now and not really afraid of being made fun of for it anymore. I’ve accepted it as something I like to do and something to be proud of. The piece itself is a memoir chronicling my self-discovery process through fictionalizing myself.

I’m happy with how both of the pieces turned out. There were points where I was a bit uncomfortable because I was writing about myself but I managed to work through them. I had to simplify some things to avoid large info dumps, especially in Writing Myself as an OC, but I am happy with the cuts I made. I hope my readers are able to enjoy my pieces as much as I enjoyed writing them.

0 notes

enhyupn · 3 years

Text

⧉ enhypen as your classmate that has a crush on you! ᝢ ∷

pairings: ot7 enhypen members x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, mentions of violence in jay’s one

genre: pure fluff + high school!au

a/n this also. Was in my drafts 💭 i was contemplating if i should post this or not but here i am 😫 i Post too much sorry everyone iJust have no life outside of school 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♀️

⌗ heeseung

heeseung is definitely the type of person that tries to talk to the person he sits beside all the time

he nudges you all the time and whispers your name whenever he wants your attention

and the fact he had a huge crush on you also added to it

enhypen always have to listen to him since he never ever stops talking about you. like ever.

“oh my god you will never know what y/n told me when i—” and suddenly he’s cut off by the rest of them yelling “we know!”

you never snap at him because you kinda... enjoy the attention

maybe thats how you knew you kinda liked him too, since you could never let sunoo get away with this if he ever called for your name in class

your relationship only stopped there for a while, since the two of you lowkey scared of each other

“no i feel like y/n’s gonna snap at you one day, like completely just punch you in the face” jay once told him and ever since, he’s never looked at you the same

you think heeseung’s just intimidating, the amount of times you’ve jumped in your seat whenever he’s called your name is numerous

although, one day you fell asleep in class due to the fact you left your english essay last minute the night before

heeseung, noticing you drooling on the table, wrote down the notes for you

he handed them to you after class and you were so touched that you couldn’t stop telling sunoo about it

“his hand writing’s so neat and—” “i get it, you can shut up now!”

you even told heeseung his hand writing was the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen for a week straight

he was happy of course, but honestly unsure how he was supposed to reply to the compliment

he figured out by himself that all he needed to do was ask you if you wanted him to write your name

“heeseung, i mean it! i can’t get over how you write ‘the’, it’s just so— so neat!” “oh really? let me write your name out”

being the smooth guy that he was, wrote down his number instead of your name

and you being the oblivious person you were, ended up being utterly confused

“heeseung i think—” “I WROTE MY NUMBER ON PURPOSE”

you never really got over the shock, nonetheless still took his number and texted him that night

you ended that night by kicking your feet in the air with your face feeling like it was on fire

oh, you also ended up planning a date with heeseung on saturday, not a big deal

it was actually the biggest deal ever

the rest of the head canons are under the cut!

⌗ jay

jay was 100% the type to tease someone when he had a crush to get their attention

he wanted all your attention and the way he got that was through telling you your portrait of a dog looked stupid

well yeah, it did but he didn’t need to point it out

everyone in your art class knew jay had a raging crush on you

he just didn’t know how to express it

his friend jake told him the way into your heart was talking about a mutual interest

jake was, sort of, right about his advice. well, until you and jay started bickering about a character you loved but he oh so hated

“mabel in gravity falls was annoying and weird” “jay if you say that one more time i will shove this paint brush down your throat”

jake, who was trying to play cupid, could not understand why he was so bad at this

i mean jay had no problem getting girls to like him but you? did you genuinely hate jay or something?

“no jake i don’t hate jay” well that answered his question

“he’s just weird” “weird? i’m weird?” “yeah do i need to repeat it again? park jay is weird” you two were a match made in heaven

jay didn’t know when but he had a revelation, maybe this wasn’t the approach he should take to get your attention

after that, he started to be extremely nice to you

it definitely scared you

“d-did i do anything?” “what no? i’m just saying your painting looks beautiful y/n” “oh no something’s definitely going to happen”

he was finally tired of trying so hard while ending up with nothing achieved

jake, being the one out of the two who had the most realistic ideas, decided to give him one more tip

“do you think it’ll work?” “it’s fool proof”

the tip was simply him asking you out to the movies, something that was a little too forward for jay

“no i don’t think it’ll work jake” “jay i swear to god you are going to end up single For the Rest of your Life”

it took... many attempts... and many insults towards you for him to even get the first line out

“Y/NPLEASEGOTOTHEMOVIESWITHME” “the movies? sure” “wait, really? i meant it in a romantic way by the way” “oh? sure i’m free on friday”

turns out you were into him too i mean it was kinda obvious from the way you dealt with those insults

even when you started dating after that date, the insults never stopped

it just now targeted jake, who really is just asking for it at this point from the amount of times he’s asked for credit for ‘getting both of you together’

he was never getting that credit

⌗ jake

jake would leave secret love letters in your locker every time he walked past it

i mean the action wasn’t as secret as he thought it was due to the fact you knew he was the one leaving those letters

for god’s sake the boy was literally in almost all your classes, you were walking the same way as him when he slipped those letters in???

you still were very grateful for them

without them, i think you would of not coped with school

they were all incredibly detailed and even had little doodles drawn around them

you once had remembered he mentioned that he wrote these in the morning before school started during first period

he also told you he was really really shy you found it incredibly cute

the only way he could speak to you without melting was through these letters

somehow you decided that the best thing to do was put replies in his lockers too

his first reaction was complete embarrassment, the fact you knew who he was had his face heating up like nothing else

but he soon realised you didn’t think it was weird or creepy, you actually looked forward to his letters every school day

he mustered up so much courage after that to talk to you in person, to personally thank you

“THANK YOU Y/N!” “NO IT’S FINE JAKE YOU DON’T HAVE TO BOW”

he sheepishly rubs the back of his neck before pulling something out from his back pocket

the final letter in his series of love letters showing up in his hands

“open it” his shy smile making your brain Melt in endearment

the letter contained the usual, the hello y/n! and the usual chatter about his day

what you didn’t expect was the fact he had asked you out at the bottom of the letter

“y/n i’ve liked you for a while now, will you go out with me?” you read out loud before realising what you had just read. “OH MY GOD YOU ASKED ME OUT?”

you pull him into a tight hug, something that jake heated up at

“is this a yes?” “are you seriously asking that right now? of course we are”

you two became the most sickly sweet couple ever

plus the fact you still placed letters in each other’s lockers made enhypen gag (in an affectionate way)

they were just jealous nobody was putting letters in their lockers

⌗ sunghoon

sunghoon always seemed to be there whenever you needed help

especially since you two helped out at the library together every wednesday

he looked forward to it every week, you could tell from the fact ever tuesday he’d remind his friends that the next day he was seeing you again

“tomorrow’s wednesday you know what that means” “yes sunghoon we know, you’re seeing y/n tomorrow”

whenever he’s finished his work (which he does at an incredibly fast pace) he always seems to end up trailing you

constantly asking if you need help, desperate to do something

you find it endearing, always ending up chuckling at his whiney words

“y/n! do you need any help i’m finished” “not at the moment but if you wanna chat i can!”

out of all the enhypen members i feel like sunghoon would have the softest feelings for his crush

like even outside of your assigned library work, he’d constantly check up on you during lunch

“here y/n! it’s a packet of those gummies you like” “how sweet that you remembered! thanks for them”

you, even with sunghoon’s constant affection, couldn’t realise he had a crush on you

you thought that he was like that with everyone, you didn’t think that you were particularly special to get any type of unique treatment from park sunghoon

it wasn’t until your classmate asked you if you and sunghoon were dating

“hey are you and sunghoon dating?” “ummmm no why” “oh my friend wanted to know, they like him that’s why”

that didn’t sit well with you.

you thought long and hard about it but there was literally no reason for you to be bothered about it

i mean? you didn’t like him like that right

wrong

you decided to ask his dearest friend heeseung for help

“heeseung what do i do why do i feel like this” “i don’t know ask sunghoon” “...you aren’t helping”

heeseung being the big blabber mouth he is, told sunghoon all of this

“y/n won’t shut up about you” “really? you’re telling me the truth right? please don’t lie to me”

from many many uplifting comments from his friends, sunghoon was able to talk to you without mentioning the library

“so... what did you do in art class today?” “oh? i don’t do art” i mean at least he tried

after a few attempts he finally hit the nail on the head, securing his place as one of your friend... not the position he was aiming for but at least it was something

that’s when he prepared himself for the final boss (that’s what heeseung called the plan)

interrupting the conversation you both had on what disney show was the best, he popped the big question

“no but mulan was pretty good too also do you wanna go on a date with me” “oh sure! that was really random though”

i mean his timing was incredibly terrible but you were over the moon

even with the calm messages the both of you had sent, the two of you were screaming at your screen, unable to contain any composure

i mean it’s sunghoon... even if he handed you a piece of trash to as his way of asking you out you’d still say yes

⌗ sunoo

no but sunoo definitely asks your friend what your favourite song is and puts it on his story so you can slide up and be like “omg!! i love this song”

OH he also texts you randomly at 11:11 and 22:22 so you think it’s a sign

he so so so desperately wants your attention all the time

he goes up to you at lunch even when you’re with all your friends and makes conversation with you making you forget all about your friends

he sits in front of you in maths! so he knows how bad you are at the subject, he can hear your muttering about how you got a question wrong every morning but don’t Worry! he finds it adorable for some reason

at first he started to pretend he wouldn’t understand a question so he could find a way to talk to you

“hey y/n! what’s six times five again” “are you serious?”

he’s actually kinda good at maths so you’re always confused on how he doesn’t understand basic multiplication but can get 90% on the algebra test

he loves, and i mean loves, talking to you during class

even if the teacher scolds him he doesn’t care, it’s simply the highlight of his day

he gets so pouty and jealous when you excuse him in the middle of a conversation to talk to someone else

he gets jealous especially whenever you talk to his friends instead of him

“hey ni-ki! what did you get for number five?” “oh i got—” “I GOT TWELVE FOR THAT ONE Y/N!”

you kinda adore it not gonna lie

at one point your teacher got incredibly fed up with you two talking class

so! sunoo resorted to passing notes to you

‘y/n did you hear? oh my god, jihan from the maths class beside us told me that yeojin from the year above us got suspended because she started fighting the teacher over her phone. can you believe that? i mean i would of done the same thing’

it was quite clear sunoo talked a lot even through notes too

i mean as if you didn’t reply with the same energy

‘I HEARD THAT TOO!! gowon from her class told me, plus! intak said he saw the whole thing too... omg honestly i think yeojin’s so cool for doing that. maybe i should fight our maths teacher if they try and yell at us for talking again?’

they were one of the many things sunoo loves you for <3

one day ni-ki, being the number one shipper of you two, decides to play Cupid on the two of you

he drew out a note that looked too similarly to a middle school confession text and placed it on sunoo’s desk

“do you like me y/n... tick one. yes. no.” “do you like it?” “what the fuck is this”

i mean sunoo Took it anyways, he knew you’d find it funny too

as usual, you prepared yourself for a long class of sliding notes to each other

you looked forward to it, you found it as a source of entertainment and you liked talking to sunoo anyways

“pssst, y/n!” “thanks— wait did you give me the right one?”

after many whisper shouts and glares from your teacher, he finally convinced you that they were the real deal

obviously. You chose yes

that’s how you landed a date with sunoo to a picnic at han river

sunoo and you were. Kinda.... thankful for ni-ki

you two just never wanted to admit his stupid cupid-ry worked

⌗ jungwon

definitely the type to ask you “what homework did we get?” so he can start a conversation with you

replies to your private story with like “omg that’s so funny” or like “PLSSSSS me too”

you do exactly the same with his ps honestly

he always talks to you before class and you have heated discussions about the homework the night before

YOU ALWAYS ALWAYS end up sitting beside him in every class you have together

like it’s not even on purpose anymore (it’s actually fate)

always lends you pens and pencils when you forget them

he also never Asks for them back so you Have like a stash of them at home beside your bed because you always forget to give them back to him

you and jungwon are the kids in pe class that walk around the track gossiping

“jake told me that half of the soccer team aren’t getting along these days because they all like the same person” “no way really? what about their team work, isn’t there some sort of huge match next week?”

the gossip only stays between you two but only ever during pe

you two talk about more, interesting things outside of pe

since you two are in basically every class together, you walk with him everywhere

once when you were about to trip over, jungwon caught you and when you realised you were in his arms, you just blankly stared at him for a good five seconds

once you got off of him your face started to heat up so fast jungwon’s too

every time you have homework due and you didn’t do it he lends you his word

“y/n take this! it’s the french homework from last class” “thanks so much jungwon!”

the real story starts with when you and him were practicing speaking french in the library

you, being terrible at french, needed some sort of help with this

jungwon decided that, even though he completely sucks at french, he should tutor you!

and there you were, ten reasons why i hate you style, in the library struggling on how to pronounce beaucoup

“bow-cewp” “good job y/n!” “jungwon i know for a fact that you don’t know if i’m saying this right”

you stuck up with it because, well because he’s jungwon

“je t'aime you”

i mean you were Terrible. at french but even the stupidest person in the world could figure that out

“i like you too jungwon, now help me with question six” “YOU COULD UNDERSTAND THAT?” “i had a paris phase when i was younger of course i did”

turns out the Parisian style bakery across the street is the perfect date on an afternoon after school

what was even more perfect was that you got 85% on your test with the help of your boyfriend

⌗ ni-ki

he was your partner in cookery class, the both of you had no cooking skills in your bones but you still made it work

you were in the class since your family constantly nagged at you for being terrible in the kitchen

while ni-ki enrolled because he needed the something to show his friends after school

ni-ki thinks he fell for you at first sight

you were baking cookies as your first task and you basically saved him by reminding him to put on oven gloves before getting the cookies out

“that’s the bare minimum” jay tells him. “i don’t care... you wouldn’t know what love feels like”

he looks forward to cooking class because if you every week

he even has it scheduled on his calendar

honestly it’s kind of a miracle the food you two make is some sort of eatable

he always asks you for help even if it’s the simplest thing ever

“y/n? which one is a cup?” “the one that literally says one cup?”

you don’t care though since you think it’s cute

you always end up doing most of the cooking and chopping whil ni-ki just washes the dishes and watches the pot boil which eagerly waits for the food to finish

you’ve met all of enhypen before since ni-ki likes them to gather around your creations and take pictures of them together

when enhypen first collected him from cookery class, they asked him which one of your classmates were you

he literally shyly pointed at you as he hid his face with his hair

“them” “huh? ni-ki who are you pointing at” “them, beside the fridge”

your final exam was to decorate and bake a cake

it’s safe to say from the many burnt cakes you and ni-ki have done, you two were in trouble

you both wanted that passing grade so you practiced almost everyday after classes the week before

he was in charge of the icing, apparently according to him it was his specialty

“look y/n!” “how cute! a little unreadable but very cute”

finally. the Day of the exam came

you both had to prepare and bake the cake together under two hours

you were lucky that you both weighed the ingredients before you arrived

it was definitely. The most stressful two hours you two had ever felt

it also didn’t help that ni-ki shooed you away when he was icing the cake

by the end of it, your face was Dusted with flour while ni-ki’s apron had butter and frosting stains all over it

you were instructed by ni-ki and even your teacher, to stand where the fridge was, out of your sight to see what he was doing to the cake

you were hazily scrolling through your phone when jungwon snapped you back into reality

turns out jungwon was outside the room the whole exam because ni-ki told him he needed support and having him there comforted him

almost instantly after your jungwon interaction, ni-ki called you from your table, excitedly waving his arms in the air

“y/n! y/n! i’m finished!” “perfect! let me—”

your eyes widened realising his cake didn’t say anything like ‘happy birthday’ like you two had planned

instead the icing spelt out a prettily written out ‘y/n, will you go on a date with me?’

your eyes seemed to water at the gesture, unsure why you got so emotional at icing

“n-ni-ki... that’s so c-cute” “why are you crying? oh my god you hate me don’t you?”

it took you ten minutes to stop sobbing (happy tears) and you gladly accepted his proposal

so now you got a Good grade and an amazing boyfriend that can... sort of! Cook

while eating the cake you were reminded with something, remembering some words from earlier

wait did mr lee know about this?

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen timestamps #enhypen drabbles #enhypen x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader

611 notes · View notes

venzelwrites · 3 years

Text

Albedo Headcanons

He makes ridiculous puns with a straight face and creates an awkward silence in the room

He will stare at people without blinking for an extended period of time

When he looks at people, most of the time he’s not really looking, more like he’s just staring into space

The most aloof person ever

Someone could recite an essay to him and if it didn’t catch his interest, he’d retain none of the information - he’d just stare

A very small number people leave impressions on him

When he hasn’t slept in days, he fidgets - biting his lip or occasionally chewing on his nail

If someone who is usually one way acts a different way, it’ll grab his attention like nothing else

For example; when they quiet and reserved Sucrose is expressive and passionate, it doesn’t matter the topic - he’s paying attention

He’s the only one who’s comfortable in a room with awkward silence

For some reason he doesn’t get cold

Like ever

He could live in Dragonspine and be fine with just his usual clothes

He rarely makes time for his friends - he doesn’t know who to consider a friend

He’s made Sucrose cry by complete accident

Multiple times

It’s one of the few times anyone has seen him panic

Klee will barge into his lab when he’s not busy and attack his hair with accessories

It doesn’t bother him

The first time Sucrose saw him with a hurricane of red accessories in his hair it startled her

He finds it funny when Sucrose gets startled by him

He doesn’t make noise when he walks

One time he came up behind Sucrose and started talking out of the blue and Eula bursted into the room ready to kill someone because of how loud Sucrose screamed

Sometimes when he talks he doesn’t realize he’s mumbling so people just stare at him like, “???”

Has a weird fascination with drawing Sucrose’s peculiar ears

Wanted to conduct research on them, but Sucrose was insistant on not doing so

When he’s denied something he’s interested in he looks like a kicked puppy

He will brew tea and get sidetracked for hours - and then just drink it cold

Sucrose has to check on him occasionally to make sure he’s not staying up for seven days straight or drinking old, cold tea

She’s had to wrestle him to bed

And had to wrestle unhealthy drinks from his grasp

One time he was actually startled by her - he was absorbed in painting and she gently poked his shoulder

He flinched and looked up at her like she grew another head because he didn’t even know she was in the lab

He’s a nightmare in the mornings whenever he does sleep

Has barged into the laboratory two hours late because he had a Eureka! moment while laying in bed and contemplating his life

Scared the living daylights out of Sucrose

Has actually managed to get the harmless sweetie to cuss

“Good morning, Sucrose.”

“WAA- FUCK!”

“...”

“O-oh, e-excuse me, M-mister Albedo. You quite s-startled me.”

It scared him almost as much as he scared her

Found it funny after

Once in a blue moon he’ll tease people

“Oh, I was unaware the soft spoken Sucrose could speak so vulgarly.”

“Mister Albedooo..”

Has a weird in-the-kitchen-at-three-am bond with Sucrose

One time they both met in the hallway, walking to the lab at four in the morning because they couldn’t sleep

Klee made a point to ask Albedo why him and Sucrose weren’t married

“Big brother, why aren’t you and Sucrose married?”

Insert Albedo malfunctioning and Sucrose choking on coffee

He had to explain the concept of work partners and assistants to her

Sucrose just about cried of embarrassment because she’s had a fat crush on him for the longest time

He is completely oblivious to this fact

One of the rare times when he teased her, he called her sweetie because of her nickname and she went bright red and hid behind her desk

Cue Albedo being very confused

He seriously thought she was sick

“Sucrose, are you feeling alright?”

She was about to cry I swear

Lisa joked to Albedo that Sucrose could have her own harem once

He looked her dead in the face and asked her what a harem is

He’s an intelligent person I swear, I just like to write him a very uneducated in people

Sucrose made a joke once and he stared at her for a good minute before laughing

It wasn’t even a laugh it was a chuckle

“Haha, I guess you could say my progress is blooming,”

“...”

*Chuckle*

He’s scared this poor girl too many times

He’s also found that she is not entirely harmless

One time she lost her glasses and accidentally made an explosive

The panic he felt when he realized

He’s also seen her obliterate a whopperflower

Whenever anyone teases him about anything he just stares at them with a blank expression

Has made Kaeya feel awkward

One time nail polish caught his interest and he painted both his and Sucrose’s nails with a tiny paintbrush

Sucrose was just, “???”

The stupidest thing can catch his interest

He’s like a cat

Kind of

One time Sucrose barged into his room apologizing a storm because she messed up in the lab and he just stared at her because he was half asleep

And then just pulled his arms around her and patted her back

Sucrose had never been so startled

“I’m sorry I broke one of your breakers and I know it took you a while-“

*Hug*

He honestly just wanted her to stfu so he could go back to sleep

And then he fell asleep again

And when he woke up Sucrose was still standing

With baggy eyes and sore legs

He just stared at her like wtf because she could’ve left and he wouldn’t have cared

He legitimately put a couch in the lab for him and Sucrose to crash on when they passed out from sleep deprivation

The rest of the knights thought it was for guests

Nope

#albedo headcanons #genshin impact #genshin albedo #genshin sucrose #undertones of albecrose #undertones of Alberose #okay but seriously #alberose #albecrose #albedo/sucrose #crackship #bad humor #help how do i tag this

232 notes · View notes

skiyoosmi · 4 years

Text

if fate permits

⤷ chapter three: puppy face

previous < masterlist > next

“I just don’t understand… how can ya stay in this hell hole for so many hours?” Atsumu exasperatedly sighed for the umpteenth time as he sulked on the seat across you. Says the one who’s often stuck in the gym, aka 'hell hole' to me, practicing volleyball, you thought.

Opting to keep your mouth shut to prevent any banter with him, you only rolled your eyes at his rather dramatic antics, starting to feel quite annoyed with how he was distracting you from the novel you were currently trying to read.

Realizing your indifference, he huffed and began tugging on the ends of your uniform’s sleeves, “Y/N! Come on, let’s go home.”

Like a child beginning to be scared of his mother, he gulped upon seeing your eyes twitch. Oh god, I am utterly sorry, he mentally prayed as his tugs began to slow down in fear.

“If you hate the library so much, why did you insist on going home with me? I could’ve gone with Kiyoomi,” you were filled with confusion when his eyes suddenly lit up, as if he remembered something important the moment you asked him about his reason. He, finally, released his hold of you and began rummaging through his sling bag.

“Ah! Here, here… take a look of this! Ta-da!” he exclaimed when he took out what looked like a flyer for the upcoming campus festival. You looked at him with amusement as he shoved it into your hands, eyes sparkling like an excited puppy as he watched you scan the piece of paper.

“Looking for… a playwright?” you slowly uttered, eyebrows furrowed when he nodded, “you want me to be a playwright for the play of the theater department?”

“Yes! Isn’t that a bit obvious? Unless ya want to be one of the actors on stage?” you pursed your lips, reminding yourself to be patient and not get irked with his ‘trying-to-be-a-smartass’ response.

Thus, you just handed him the flyer back and shoo your head ‘no,’ surprising him because he seriously thought you would agree in a heartbeat. You stood up and grabbed your things, I need to go home before this foolishness worsens any further.

“What do ya mean no?! Y/N! This is a one-time opportunity!” he whined as he followed you, listing endless reasons why you should say yes to his request. More like a once a year opportunity, not one time, idiot.

You let out an annoyed sigh and turned to him, glaring so hard he almost whimpered. Nonetheless, he backed away when you stomped over to him.

“I am way too busy for those things, Tsum! Besides, I want to be a BOOK writer… not a playwright!” you groaned at his confused face, making it way too obvious that he didn’t even know consider anything when he grabbed the flyer.

“Is there even a difference between those two? I mean… ya will still become a writer though,” he pouted, scratching his nape and shrugged. You gaped at him in disbelief, I swear to god, this kid must be nuts.

“Of course, there is a difference! Books do not work the same as theatrical plays, baka! And like I said… I’m too busy for all those shits.”

You went back to briskly walking, thanking the heavens when the apartment you and Kiyoomi shared with them finally came into view. Once again, he sulked as he followed you with his back slouched, like a puppy kicked by its owner.

“What is she even busy with? As far as I can remember, she finished her essay days ago,” he whined to his twin as they lounged in the kitchen bar, initially talking about their volleyball plays before it turned to Atsumu-rants-about-you moment again. Osamu only looked at him with a somewhat disinterested look, shaking his head at Atsumu’s idiocy.

“You do know she’s busy with writing her book, right?” He monotonously asked the blonde who only looked back with bewilderment. Ah, knew it, this boy is really an idiot sometimes.

“But… but she’s still in college?! And she’s broke… What is she thinking… writing her own book? Can she even afford the publishing if it ever happens,” Atsumu grumbled as he played with the flyer that was still lying on the table in front of them.

The grey-haired lad only shrugged, she loves writing as much as you love volleyball, there’s technically no difference between the two of you.

“That’s probably the exact reason, you know. As early as possible, she wants to gain her reputation as an official writer. Or maybe she wants to earn money while doing what she loves. Or... I don’t know. Ask her,” Osamu suggested, quite expectant deep inside that his twin will listen to his advice. He silently cheered when the blonde hummed in agreement, grabbing the flyer before trudging towards the direction of your room.

He just hopes that Atsumu will not be more than the idiot he already is.

“Don’t you think I should punch that dummy so he realizes the truth? I want to do it more and more each day that passes,” this time, your twin brother asked as he entered the kitchen area. Osamu could see bits of irritation swimming in Kiyoomi’s eyes as he went back to cooking your dinner.

“I hope it won’t get to that point though, Kiyoomi. Violence is never the answer after all.”

You stared in your laptop’s screen, mind flying in all directions as you tried to finish one of your homeworks. I need to get back to writing the book, you thought… but then Atsumu’s puppy face as he begged you to agree flashes in your mind for the umpteenth time that night. You loudly groaned in frustration, rubbing your face in distress.

Damn the soulmate bond that’s making you impossible to refuse him and his requests.

“Gosh! This is so frustrating! Why does he have to be my sou–”

“Was my suggestion that bad for ya?” you yelped in surprise as you turned around, finding your one and only soulmate leaning against your doorway. He snickered at your face before sauntering towards your bed, plopping face down as he spoke, voice muffled by your pillow.

“I can’t hear you, baka,” you commented as you watched him fondly when he turned his head to you; that damned puppy face staring at you with the same fond look.

“Yer right, I'm an idiot. I just had this foolish idea that maybe you’d like to write for them. The idiot in me really thought they’re just the same thing so I said ‘Ah, this can be a stepping stone for Y/N if the play becomes a hit to people even those outside the campus!’ Now, I realized I was wrong,” he sheepishly explained while you giggled, shaking your head at his silliness.

“It’s alright. I kinda figured that’s what you wanted…” you smiled as he nodded, eyes lighting up when he realized you’re no longer frustrated at him. Unbeknownst to him, your insides were in a dilemma as you contemplated, “… is the offer still up though?”

“Huh?”

“I said… is your offer still up? Cause I think I’d like to give it a try,” you let out another laugh when he nodded excitedly, jumping up as he approached you for a hug but you help up a hand. He gave you a look of confusion, gulping once more when a devilish smile slowly formed on your face.

“In one condition; you… audition as one of the actors.”

Had you known what was about to happen, you wouldn't have even thought of agreeing to him.

#if fate permits #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #atsumu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #atsumu smau #iwaizumi smau #haikyuu headcanons #atsumu headcanons #iwaizumi headcanons #miya atsumu #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu imagines #atsumu imagines #iwaizumi imagines

500 notes · View notes

seacottons · 4 years

Text

— uni with atz pt. two

notes: swearing, fluff, mildly suggestive dialogue. tags: @latte-fairytaekwoon

seonghwa — [ early edu. + developmental psych. ]

extremely organized in all aspects of his life

your bookshelf at home consists of books on developmental studies in children.

if he isn't in class or volunteering, he's either cuddling with you or reading.

stressed 24/7.

takes very pretty and neat notes.

randomly spits out facts throughout the day.

sometimes, you join him during his volunteer hours at various daycares and schools.

is all the children's favorite teacher.

extremely patient and soft-spoken when it comes to working with even the most difficult child.

also loves being called 'teacher hwa'.

"i don't know, if i were you, i would make the students call me king san."

"they'll probably end up bullying you," seonghwa replies back.

you don't know how he has the patience for the amount of children he has to take care of.

takes you picture-book shopping with him for his students.

finds himself singing nursery rhymes while cooking or cleaning.

has polaroids of you two stuck on the fridge.

brings lint rollers to work.

gets worked up in public if a parent seems too neglectful in any way.

"y/n!" he tugs at your elbow and points with his jaw to the right, "look! his kid is just spilled all that paint on the floor, and he didn't even bat an eyelash!?"

"don't intervene again, please."

"okay, but-"

the whining of metal and steel cut him off, and the two of you jump in fright at the sound of a shelf falling apart.

"some people really shouldn't have kids."

whines when he comes back home that the paint stain and glitter just won't come off his clothes no matter how many times he rubs the spots with warm water.

or how he has mulch stuck in his socks and shoes from taking the kids outdoors to play.

you somehow always end up finding a googly eye or specks of glitter under the couch.

sometimes brings home finger-paintings with numerous colorful hearts and two stick figures in the middle.

"today's assignment was to paint what makes you happy."

you also help him stitch up little felt and cotton dolls for the kids to keep.

often gets sick from working with children.

and passes it onto you by accident.

you know he's had a bad day when you ask him how it went, and his face scrunches up in pain.

stormed into your shared apartment one day and made a beeline to the bathroom.

forty minutes later, he comes out, towel wrapped around his hips, face and chest flushed, and explains that a child accidentally peed on him.

gets flustered when you laugh at his demise.

sometimes uses his teacher voice when scolding you or your mutual friends.

and you all end up teasing him more anyway.

"do you use that tone in bed too, hwa?" yeosang asks one day. mingi and yunho splutter out in disbelief, followed by loud laughter.

you choked on your bite of cake at the sudden remark.

"what did i ever do to deserve this slander," seonghwa grumbles whilst patting your back.

he often stays up late making lesson plans for both his classes and ones to implement at work as well.

takes full advantage of his teacher's discount at shops and restaurants.

sometimes brags about it to his friends to get under their skin.

"you have it easy. just watching kids and getting free food," san says one day in the middle of their game of jenga.

"it's not easy at all," you hear seonghwa reprimand the younger, and laughter rings out from the other four guests.

"you're learning about children! what's so hard-"

you had a hunch that seonghwa purposely tilted the wooden tower to tumble over an unsuspecting san.

"y/n! your boyfriend is trying to murder me!"

seonghwa paces in circles around your apartment whilst studying for an upcoming exam.

asks you to quiz him on certain materials.

"correct! okay, can you define the preoperational stag-"

"how many kids do you want to have in the future?"

"..what?"

"kids. how many do you want to have with me?" he presses further, eyes trained on your face rather intently.

"can't this conversation wait until you finish studying?"

"no. i'm too curious," he licks at his chapped lips and leans in to poke your forehead, "i need to know. this is important information. please."

yeosang — [ biology pre-med ]

met you through your mutual friend, wooyoung, who invited him to live in your shared dorm.

"you didn't tell me you have a dog?" yeosang turns to wooyoung, brow quirked up whilst pointing to the 'beware of dog' sign on one of the bedroom doors.

"oh, i don't. i just put that up to mess with y/n," wooyoung dismissively explained while making a sandwich.

is the reason why you and wooyoung haven't killed each other yet.

asked you out after five months of moving with you and wooyoung.

designated one of the kitchen's shelves as a medical supply closet.

"because wooyoung always ends up hurting himself without doing anything."

"i do not."

stress is his middle name.

constantly contemplates his life decisions.

"wooyoung! shut up! i can't finish my essay with you blabbering every damn second!"

you had to get used to the sight of a full sized anatomical skeleton in his room.

"okay, but i'm not letting you fuck me with that thing in here."

later that night, wooyoung's heart nearly burst in his chest from fright.

"yeosang! why the fuck is your skeleton in my room!?"

some nights, during dinner, yeosang slams his obnoxiously large textbooks onto the table, and insists for the two of you to quiet down while he skims over the pages a few times.

"can't you just enjoy your meal for five-"

"no. now hush."

not only does he have labs, presentations, and essays to worry about, but he also got accepted for a pre-med internship at a local hospital.

hardly goes out anymore during his free time.

most dates include cuddling on the couch or baking something in the kitchen.

stays up late at night to complete assignments.

towers of thick books decorate his nightstand.

"no, yeosang. i really don't want to see you dissecting a cat," you grimace, turning quickly and shielding your eyes from his phone.

"why not?" yeosang whines softly, hand tugging the hem of your shirt with a frown, "it's not that bad, i promise-"

he's cut off when wooyoung snatches the phone from him with a loud cry, "gross! y/n, you're letting him touch you after he touched that?! and fuck- what is that smell?"

"that's formaldehyde. now give me back my phone before i dissect you next."

you join him at the lab when he has extra work piled up.

"you look so cute with a white coat and goggles."

you prod and poke him repeatedly, asking him numerous questions about the specimens in the lab.

"y/n! don't touch that!"

one day, wooyoung comes home sick.

you insist on taking him to see a doctor, only for him to emit a haughty laugh at you.

"why would i waste my time and money when i have yeosang here?"

"but woo, he didn't even get into med-school yet-"

wooyoung insists he doesn't need to see a professional, "yeosang is practically our live-in doctor! why do you think i begged him to move in?"

you roll your eyes, calling for yeosang to persuade the younger male.

"alright, tell me your symptoms," your boyfriend sighs, plopping down onto the couch beside you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

after wooyoung explains everything and takes his own temperature, he peers at yeosang for an answer, "well?"

"you're dying," yeosang nods simply.

wooyoung's visage pales, and he scrambles to sit up on the couch with a disturbed expression.

"what?"

yeosang is always studying.

always.

studying.

you insist for him to take a break sometimes.

"i can't. i have lab tomorrow. oh, and a paper."

"but you always say that!"

you attempt to tug him out of his seat.

"come on! just for an hour, and we'll be back. promise."

he's always reluctant at first, but finds himself agreeing later anyway.

enjoys the small dates at the nearby lake probably more than you do.

mingi — [ accounting ]

a gifted genius when it comes to numbers.

is your very own math tutor.

jokingly asks you to pay him back.

he accepts kisses and hugs. baked pastries are also a bonus.

"y/n? are you okay?" a hand waves in front of your face.

you blink at him wordlessly, mind fogged from the bombardment of information you just received, "sorry- you lost me. can you repeat the process again?"

he playfully smacks your shoulder with the ruler and stomps his bare feet onto the tiled floor, "this is the third time!"

"i'm sorry! you know how i am with math!"

he begs you to take classes with him as electives.

"sorry, baby. i love you, but there's no way i'll ever take statistics."

"okay, what about economics?"

"no."

"management? business administration!?"

"no and no."

"but y/n! it'll be fun! you'll be with me!"

always whines about how much he hates having to take 'stupid management classes' and the group projects that come along with them.

"they never take the assignments seriously!"

said group visits your apartment to work on projects with mingi.

"aren't you supposed to be working on that project?"

you watch as mingi and his friends suddenly erupt in an explosive argument about the game they were currently playing.

"yeosang! what the fuck!?"

"it's y/n's fault mingi was distracted!"

you let out an indignant squawk and glare at yeosang.

"that round didn't count."

"stop being a sore loser, san!"

"so.. i take it you didn't even start?" you grimace, peering over to the untouched books and papers on the coffee table.

"it's just management class. no big deal," san explains quickly with a dismissive wave of his hand before nudging your boyfriend with a glare, "you better not make us lose this time, or i'll kidnap y/n."

stays up late to finish other work that's due.

loves to wear big spectacles when studying.

it 'helps him focus'.

writes notes on his calculator and slides it towards you while you're both home studying.

'n-3^07-!'

"mingi, what is that?"

"read it upside down, you bum."

has a coffee mug with 'i love π' in big, bold, red letters.

refuses to throw it away even though the rim is chipped.

always bugs you about how you should have a budget plan.

insists on teaching you how to make spreadsheets on excel.

"i can't do this, mingi. too much numbers give me a headache."

"do you want my lucky glasses?"

rambles on about things related to his field, and you can only nod in confusion every time.

"how does your brain keep up with all of this?"

"easy. just be one with the numbers."

"that was a bad pun.."

"you're supposed to laugh!"

mingi was that typical student who complained about studying, but is always the one acing everything with the highest score.

"i should just quit university and become a stripper."

"you say that every exam week, and yet, you always pass with the highest grades," you mumble from the other side of the couch, absentmindedly highlighting a few sentences in your book.

"yeah, but studying is a pain in the ass," he exhaled with a loud groan, head thrown back against the back of the couch, "why me, y/n?"

you roll your eyes while reaching over to pat the side of his face in comfort.

"everything will work out just fine."

later that week, he joyfully bounces into your apartment with a large grin plastered on his face, "guess what?"

you snort in amusement.

"let me take a wild guess. you aced your exam."

"and guess who has the highest score?" he tugged you forward by your cheeks with a bright grin.

"yeosang?" the cheery expression on his features suddenly vanished, causing you to laugh, "i'm kidding."

likes to study while attached to your side, wearing comfortable pajamas and warm socks.

sulks whenever his stock investments drop further than he expects.

and is always in a good mood whenever the prices spike back up.

always has a horrible math pun up his sleeve.

sends you accounting memes and becomes a gloomy mess when you don't laugh or understand the joke.

"what if i propose to you with a math problem? and we have pie instead of cake?"

"please don't bring math into our love life."

yunho — [ broadcasting journalism ]

roommates with you, hongjoong, and jongho.

is called 'newspaper boy' by hongjoong.

is well-known around campus for being one of the student journalists for the university's newspaper.

you have the very first published paper, with his full name printed on the front, framed in the hallway of your dorm.

has the prettiest hands.

and longest fingers you've ever seen.

can put them to good use.

especially when typing out essays. they're practically blurred from how swift he is.

likes to ramble about current international events to jongho early in the morning. the latter pretends to understand, giving the other false hope.

jongho always sends you a pleading look to save you from your lover.

always carries a notebook.

article deadlines = stressed yunho.

complains that his friends are 'uncultured'.

helps you with your essays.

if he has enough time, he'll actually re-write it for you.

"was it really that bad?"

"it's okay, baby. you're good at other things."

"how come you don't re-write my papers?" jongho huffs from across the living room.

"you're not y/n."

interviews you and your other roommates for his projects.

you smile from behind him as he zooms in obnoxiously close to hongjoong's disgruntled expression.

"he zoomed in on my nose again, didn't he?" the blue haired male asks you.

"sorry, but that tomato sauce stain is really distracting me."

hongjoong nearly drops his fork.

"what stain!?" he furiously rubs his face with the back of his hand, "see! i told you that you always interview us at the most inconvenient time!"

is constantly writing.

can be very unorganized.

"who took my ap stylebook!?"

"can you stop shouting? it's 6 a.m., yunho!" hongjoong growls from his bedroom.

mingi and seonghwa often visit your dorm because they're usually partnered with yunho for an assignment.

it somehow always winds up with mingi and yunho fooling around, whilst seonghwa struggles to persuade them to help him with the work.

sometimes, you tag along to help film his public social experiment projects.

is a social-bug, so people are instantly drawn to him.

likes to cuddle with you while watching the films for his assignments.

you think most of them are pretty boring, but being in his lap and tucked against his chest makes up for it.

you like to add glittery stickers onto his video camera and tripod.

is very much infatuated with you, so he doesn't mind one bit.

applied for a paid broadcasting radio station/tv internship over the summer and was quickly accepted.

asks you to help him style his hair for his first day at work.

"but it's just a radio station. no one's going to see you?" jongho questions with a perplexed expression.

"i still need to look presentable!"

and later that day you quickly hush the two males beside you once the clock strikes 2 p.m.

"quiet! yunho should be on any second now!"

"i was just breathing?" hongjoong whispers weakly.

over dinner, jongho often mimics yunho's reporting voice.

"y/n, do i really sound like that?" yunho pouts as you and hongjoong burst into fits of laughter.

"aw, don't be sad. i love your reporter voice, baby."

will wake everyone up early the next morning by yelling at the top of his lungs with his reporter voice just to get back at you three for laughing at him.

329 notes · View notes

writing-red · 4 years

Text

The Milky Tea | 3

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: It’s their sixth year, Draco and the reader are placed in an arranged marriage by their pureblood families, expected to follow through they navigate their feelings for each other amongst the many other social pressures at Hogwarts.

Warnings: PARENTAL ABUSE! (verbal & physical) murder, and cussing. Harry and Draco are IDIOTS. also a hangover.

Word Count: 5.2K

Thank you so much to @malfycs who has continuously motivated and helped me with this project <3

A/N- I try to write neutral outfits so you as the reader can imagine yourself in something you would be comfortable in so ... Now I’m sorry this is late I was up until 4am writing an essay so I hope you all enjoy!

You awoke to sunlight streaming into the common room, your head screaming, you felt worse than nasty, and all you wanted was to go back to bed. But, you slowly and quietly got up, contemplating whether or not to wake up Ron, ultimately deciding to leave him and let him sleep. He had the opportunity to have a good day, unlike yourself, and you didn’t want to ruin that for him.

As you approached your dorm room, his words from last night rang through your head, ‘Look presentable.’ Of course, he would demand that of you. Yet you did as you were told, not wanting to risk another interaction like last nights. Lucky for you, when you slipped into your room, all of your roommates were fast asleep, including Hermione, meaning you wouldn’t have to answer any questions just yet. Desperate to not wake them, you quietly grabbed your things and slipped out of the room to the showers.

Your shower wasn’t long, and it didn’t do much to help your head, but it did feel good to wash off the grime of last night. Still, the boiling hot water couldn’t wash away your new reality. So you finished, stepped out, and used a spell you had learned from a Gryffindor girl in the year above you to dry and style your hair. You put some light makeup on and threw on what you hoped Draco would deem presentable. You caught yourself in the mirror and felt your heart lurch. Who is that? You didn’t look much different, but you couldn’t help but feel different, like something was wrong, and you didn’t know how to make it better. But, you swallowed your anxiety, dropped Ron’s clothes he had let you borrow on your bed back in your dorm, grabbed a small black baguette bag, and headed to the Great Hall where you assumed you’d be meeting Draco since you didn’t necessarily have time to discuss the details last night.

When you entered the hall, Draco was in his usual spot at the head of Slytherin’s table. When you saw him, you froze. Now that you weren’t drunk off your ass, you could finally process precisely what had happened last night, everything he said to you. That you really weren’t your own person, that you hadn’t been before, and that you wouldn’t ever be. You don’t know how long you were standing there for, but at some point, Blaise Zabini broke you from your trance.

“Hey there, Y/l/n, I hear you are sitting with us today,” it’s likely he had come up to you because Draco sent him to retrieve you, but there was an edge to his voice that you didn’t understand. Like he knew something you didn’t.

“I guess,” you responded quietly, you were confused, overwhelmed, and seriously hungover.

“Brilliant, let’s go, I’m sure you need a cup of tea after last nights activities,” he said, each word intentional, gazing at your hickey and started towards where Draco and his crew were sitting, expecting you to follow, which of course, you did. Had he seen you with Harry, or did Blaise assume Draco made the mark?

Once you made it to the table, you noticed that the only seat available was directly next to Draco. You sat silently in what was clearly your new assigned spot, and Blaise pushed a cup of tea in front of you. You wondered if Ron had gotten up yet and if he was wondering where you were. Or, if Hermione had seen you on the couch when she had gotten back last night. You wondered if they would come looking for you today to find you sitting with the people who had tried so hard to make both of your lives hell for the last six years. You kept to your thoughts as you sipped at your tea as you let your mind wander, not interested in whatever the Slytherin’s were talking about.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, darling?” Draco asked, interrupting your train of thought, and startling you.

He had been acting oddly even before the letters arrived, which, of course, had been a subject of conversation amongst your friends. Harry assumed he had become a Death Eater, which you didn’t doubt, while Hermione figured it was just what happened at the Ministry last term, and his father's arrest that was effecting him. Either way, there was something sad and focused about him this year you hadn’t seen in him before. Instead of being the entitled school-yard bully, he was focused, elsewhere, and no longer troubling himself with tripping you in the halls. Yet, at this moment, he was the same Slytherin Prince who ruled the school you had known from the years before, and it scared you.

“I’ve just got a headache,” you said quietly. He called you darling, that had to just be apart of the show.

“Well, push that aside, we’ve got a whole day ahead of us, love.”

When he called you love heard Pansy Parkinson scoffed. Shit. You forgot about her and her little crush on Malfoy. You would just have to add that to the list of things you would be glancing over your shoulder for this year. You just nodded in response to Draco, ignored Parkinson, and continued sipping your tea, too queasy to eat, allowing the Slytherins around you to continue with their conversation and breakfast while keeping your eyes on the grand doors.

It wasn’t long until Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny walked in, all scanning the entire hall for you as Ron likely alerted them that you were missing this morning. It was Hermione who locked eyes with you at the Slytherin table and mouthed ‘Bathroom?’ to which you nodded.

You put a hand on Draco’s arm, interrupting his conversation.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to head to the lavatory before we walk to Hogsmeade?” You formed it as a question, but you were standing and departing just before he could agree. You walked as fast as you could without being suspicious, meeting Ginny and Hermione in the girls' lavatory nearest the Great Hall.

“I don’t have long. They think I’m peeing,” you said quickly.

“Merlin, Y/n/n, are they keeping you bloody hostage?” Ginny asked.

“You could say that. Last night Draco caught me with somebody, and he didn’t really take it well. He pulled me out into the hall and basically said it was time to start dating in order to appease our parents,” you said as you rubbed your temples, recalling the memory making your headache worse.

“Is that all? Did he threaten you?” Hermione asked.

“It’s my parents I’m worried about ‘Mione, he just reminded me that this was all real and that I didn’t have a choice.”

“Of course you have a choice,” Ginny said.

“Ginny, are you joking?!” you exclaimed. “If I had an inch of control over my life, I wouldn’t live with them anymore! I wouldn’t be marrying Draco! I’d have run away or- I don’t know, but I wouldn’t be in this situation,” you said, fighting to push your sadness and anger down. None of your friends would ever understand. You’d met Molly, she’s the perfect mother she would never lay a hand on one of her children, much less force them into an unwanted marriage. “I don’t have an inch of control over my life, much less a choice of what happens in it.”

“I’m sorry-”

Ginny’s apology was cut short by Pansy sauntering into the lavatory, “Y/l/n!” You heard her call your name. “Are these two bothering you?” She asked as she stood next to you and took her arm in yours as some sort of display of dominance.

“Don’t worry about it, Pansy,” you said, clearly made uncomfortable by her presence. “I just finished.”

“Well then, let’s go, your boyfriend is waiting for you,” she said, fake kindness outlining her voice.

You gave Ginny and Hermione a look that said, ‘I’ll tell you everything later, I am so, so sorry’ as Pansy dragged you back to Draco. You felt awful for raising your voice at your friends, but you hoped that they would understand, and at the moment, something else concerned you. First, it was Blaise shepherding you to Draco, now Pansy. It was as if Draco was trying to tell you that his people were watching you when he couldn’t. It was just as you had said to Ginny, you had no control.

Pansy made sure you made it back to Draco quickly, not caring to make any small talk with you. You were sure she was pissed about Draco making her babysit you instead of taking her out on a date, and you were positive this wouldn’t be the last time.

You noticed Draco standing in the hall waiting for you, and Pansy passed you off to him when she saw him, the two exchanging a nod that only confirmed your earlier thoughts.

Draco wrapped his arm around your shoulder once you approached him, “How were Ginny and Hermione?”

“They weren’t wrong to be worried,” you responded quickly. You knew that Draco wasn’t stupid, and you wouldn’t treat him as if he were.

“Well, you look lovely today,” he said. It was a genuine compliment, which wasn’t something you were ready to believe.

“So, what have you planned for our date?” You asked, trying to change the subject.

“I know how you love bookstores, so we’re starting at Tomes and Scrolls, after that is a surprise,” he answered coyly, which surprised you. How did Draco Malfoy know that you liked bookstores? You had never told him, and your passion for books only came after befriending Hermione Granger, so how did he find out? And why did he care to know?

“How did you find that out?” You asked after you thought for a moment.

“I’m sorry?”

“Between last night and this morning, how did you find out that I love bookstores?” You asked.

“Why do you continue to doubt me, Y/l/n?” He questioned you back.

Draco had loved you for so long, of course, he knew. He’d never forget the day you bounced into the library just after everyone had returned from Winter Holiday your third year telling Hermione of the bookstores you had visited in Paris. You described every single detail, focusing on one first edition of Pride and Prejudice that your parents hadn’t allowed you to get. The sheer joy in your voice at the recollection of the bookstores you had experienced was enough to send Draco over the moon. At that moment, he hadn’t cared that you weren’t talking to him. All he cared about was listening to your melodic voice recant the ivy that wrapped itself around the bookshelves in the shop off of the Seine. It wasn’t until Madam Pince shushed you that Draco’s trance was broken. Although Draco knew he couldn’t share this with you, he had already broken your heart. He knew that he didn’t deserve you and that whatever he said, he would never be able to get you to love him back. So, instead of sharing his story, he resigned to walking with you in silence.

Depending on the company and the weather, the walk to Hogsmede can either take twelve minutes or twelve years. Today, with Draco by your side, it took millennia. Since neither of you knew what to say, you each chose silence, which was possibly worse than pestering one another. Although anytime people would pass by you, Draco would all of a sudden start talking to you about anything that came to mind. You assumed it was one of his way of keeping up appearances.

Eventually, the two of you made it to Tomes and Scrolls. Although you still weren’t sure why Draco wanted to watch you look at books and call it a date, you wouldn’t refuse the opportunity to browse their collection.

“Go ahead and look around, I’ve got to pick something up from the front, alright?” He said, and you happily complied. Any chance to get a break from the decently awkward silence, you left your boyfriend's side and quickly made your way to the history section.

You took a deep breath when you arrived, the smell of books, black tea, and dusty cushions filled your nose and brought you a little bit of peace. You browsed silently, excited by the books you hadn’t seen before, and of course, picking up the ones that called to you. Eventually, after having your fill of the history section, you made your way to spells where you found another book you just couldn’t resist, sorting through all the insanely beautiful and magical texts. While turning around to look at the bookshelf behind you, you bumped right into Draco, holding something behind his back.

“Well, it looks like you’ve found something,” he said.

Forgetting about your predicament for a moment, you held up the first book you had found, “well this one is about the Salem Witch Trials and the muggle’s understanding of what happened. Apparently, some old writer wrote a play about it! And there are transcripts of the testimonies from the muggle court proceedings. Then,” you held up a second book. “This one is is about occulemency, it was in the spell section, which obviously isn’t where it belongs, so I picked it up to put it back, but I’d honestly really love to learn more about occulemency, and this copy makes it look so interesting, so why not?”

Draco couldn’t help but fall deeper in love with you as you rambled on about the books you had found. How one person could find so much passion in something so many find boring, he would adore about you forever.

“I’m glad you found something, dear. I’ve also got something for you,” he said.

“Oh?”

“I’m sorry it’s not wrapped,” he apologized as he handed you an old beat-up book.

“Draco, is this?”

“One of the first printed editions of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen,” he said, nerves biting at his voice.

You missed the nerves in his voice as you were focused on your own confusion. He, Draco Malfoy, but you a muggle book? But, why? How could he have known you had been searching for this book for ages, that it had slipped through your fingertips in Paris. Where in the world was this extension of kindness and care suddenly coming from?

“Draco I-”

“Don’t ask, Y/n, just take it, please,” he said, placing the book on top of your pile. “Now, let’s get you a bag for all of these.”

After checking out, and Draco refusing to let you pay for the books, not sure what was next, you followed him out of the shop out into Hogsmede. He led you down to Honeydukes.

“I was thinking we could get some sweets, then go over to the Three Broomsticks,” He said, sounding almost shy. “The- uh surprise was really just the book.”

You nodded, “that sounds lovely, and thank you, Draco, I’ve been looking for this copy for a long time,” it was awkward, but you really wanted to find some way to properly thank him.

The two of you entered Honeydukes, the warm waft of sweets pleasantly wrapping around both of you, causing a smile to grace your lips.

“Draco, what’s your favorite sweet?” you asked.

“Crystalized pineapple,” he said and picked up a bag.

“I love chocolate frogs,” you responded. “But crystallized pineapple is good too.”

This kind of awkward back and forth continued while you both browsed the store you already knew so well. You’d comment about the new colors of the sugar quills, and he would ask if you wanted anything from the chocolate section, which of course, you said yes. While shopping, you picked up some items for your friends.

“You like pumpkin pasties?” Draco asked a sour look on his face, clearly displaying his distaste for the pastry.

“No, they’re for Harry,” you said without a second thought.

“You’re buying him, sweets, now?” Draco asked through his teeth.

“Draco, he’s my friend. I haven’t forgotten our conversation from last night. I can still buy my friends gifts,” You said and grabbed the few things he had in his hands and headed to the checkout counter. You quickly handed the witch working the galleons to pay for the sweets.

“You minx!” You heard Draco shout playfully.

“I have to get you back for that book,” You called without looking at him, insinuating that you weren’t yet done, as you put your things in separate bags.

“That was so quick,” he said.

“I’ve got a couple tricks up my sleeve,” you said as you picked up the bags and spun around to find Draco, who was just an inch away. You paused for a moment, the closeness causing your stomach to turn. Trying to push out the weird feeling, you handed Malfoy his bag.

“Three broomsticks?” you asked quickly, to which he nodded. “Brilliant, let’s go.”

As the two of you made your way out of the shop, one of your uncomfortable silences quickly falling back over you, Draco bumped into none other than Harry Potter.

“Oi, watch it, Potter,” Draco sneered at him, somehow even nastier than usual.

You lightly grabbed Draco’s forearm as an attempt to keep him calm.

“Or what Malfoy? You’ll tell your father?” Harry retorted.

“Boys, stop it, now” you hissed, looking around at the crowd that had gathered in a circle around you.

“Do you want another bloody nose job Potter, I really tried to help you that last time,” Draco shot to Harry, ignoring your warnings.

“Well I’m surprised, the only way you can get a girlfriend is through blackmail,” Harry bit back.

Draco whipped his wand out. “Say it again, go, ahead Potter since you’re so brave, say it again.”

“Go ahead and hex me, Malfoy,” Harry leaned in close enough so that you couldn’t hear. “Get her to hate you forever.”

Draco considered Harry’s words and lowered his wand slowly. “Stay away from us,” he said, bitterly conceding.

You were mortified, unsure of what to do, but Draco took your hand in his and pushed your way out of the crowd and away from Hogsmede.

“Draco,” you said as you entered the mouth of the path to Hogwarts. He didn’t respond, so you spoke up, “Draco!”

“What!?” He shouted, stopping in his tracks.

“When you said that about Harry’s nose, did you-”

“Yes, I broke his nose, but are you really taking his side?” Draco demanded. “Did you not hear what he said?”

“Yes, but,” he cut you off again.

“But what? But he’s my friend?” He said, mocking your voice. “You really are stupid, aren’t you,” he said nastily.

“Excuse me, you think that’s the way to be friendly? By calling me stupid?” You didn’t want a repeat of last night, you would stick to the deal, but you wouldn’t let him treat you like shit.

“I’m sorry but really Y/n, taking his side is just-” He said, realizing what he had said wasn’t okay.

“Draco, I tried to get you to walk away before he even said anything! Don’t call me stupid because I care about my friends. Now I’m sorry that Harry was a jerk, and I’ll talk to him, but you need to not be a jerk yourself, alright?”

“Alright,” he said, a bit quiet.

“Great, now let’s go back to the castle together so that nobody suspects we’ve broken up after one date.” You said, and took his hand. At least you two weren’t yelling at each other so much.

Draco walked you back to your common room, keeping an eye on you until he couldn’t. Just as you were ready to be rid of him for the evening, he put a hand on your cheek and leaned in close enough to kiss you, causing you to draw in your breath and hold it.

“You did a fine job today. Keep it up,” he said, returning to his new cold self, examining you, dropping his hand, and leaving.

The second he turned the corner, you released your breath and quickly uttered the password to the Fat Lady, who for once didn’t bother you and just let you in. You entered a packed room, but immediately picking out Harry and Ron, who were going over plans for their upcoming game.

“Harry James Potter, what is wrong with you?” You asked, causing Ron to jump.

“What? It’s not like you fancy the prick,” Harry retorted.

“That doesn’t mean you also have to make my life hell. He’s enough, but you making a spectacle out of things is worse,” you said.

“I’m sorry, Y/n I didn’t think about it like that,” he said, his voice genuine.

“Of course not, because you’re not the person who has to deal with the bloody ramifications, you get to walk away,” you said and left, headed straight to your dorm. When you threw open your door, Ginny and Hermione were sitting on your bed, clearly waiting for you.

“Ginny, I’m sorry about earlier. I really didn’t mean to react like that,” you said from your spot in the door, rushed but genuine. “I am so so sorry.”

“Merlin, Y/n, don’t apologize. It wasn’t fair of me to say, now come sit down, you’ve clearly got a lot you’ve got to talk about,” Ginny responded, instantly calming you down.

You nodded, exhausted by the last twenty-four hours but desperate to talk to people who genuinely care about you, you plopped down on the bed between the two.

“I don’t even know where to start,” You said and let out a breath. “So last night Draco rips me out of the party and loses his shit on me,” you started, which made Ginny giggle, encouraging you to crack a smile. “Being the incredibly kind and caring person he is, the git reminded me that if I did not do as I was told, my father would do the same to me that he did to Wiliam.”

“He didn’t!” Hermione exclaimed, the shock evident on her face.

“Oh, it gets worse,” you responded. “He says that we’re going to be a couple, I have to go on dates with him, and keep up appearances. Basically, that I am all his, and that my fate had been sealed the second our parents agreed that we’d be married.”

“Shit, Y/n/n,” Ginny said and shook her head.

“That was just last night! Wait till I tell you about today’s outing!”

You told them everything about your day, not sparing a single detail. You knew Draco had at least told Blaise, so what was the harm in telling Hermione and Ginny? As you were talking, you changed into pajamas. It was nice to be able to speak freely and laugh at the ridiculous nature of your situation. If you didn’t, you feared you would go insane.

“And the best part?” You asked as you opened a chocolate frog for Ginny, who was braiding your hair. “Harry decided today would be the perfect day to pick a fight with Malfoy.”

“Of course he did,” Hermione said, falling back onto the bed. “What a prick.”

“So Harry purposely bumps into Malfoy, and both of them turn into ten-year-olds,” you said and laughed. “It was fucking ridiculous. There was a whole crowd around us, so I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s all we hear about for the next bloody week.”

“Well, did anything happen?” Ginny asked. Luckily the news hadn’t traveled that fast.

“I mean, they were jerks to each other,” you said. “Harry said, and I quote, ‘the only way you can get a girlfriend is through blackmail. But they didn’t exchange any spells, thankfully.”

“He’s such an idiot,” Hermione said to which all of you nodded.

“And apparently, now I’m speculating a bit, but I think that Harry was late to the feast because Draco broke his nose on the train.”

“That would explain the blood,” Ginny muttered, and Hermione nodded.

“Anyways, we walked back here, and he was his usual Malfoy self,” you said.

“How odd,” Ginny commented, and you agreed excitedly.

“Right?! Thank you! I’ve been going crazy over it all.”

“Well, I say we all get to sleep, it’s been a long weekend, and the year isn’t going to get any easier,” Hermione commented, prompting nods of agreement from you and Ginny.

You awoke Monday morning to Hermione’s alarm feeling decent thanks to the full night’s sleep, which you were deeply grateful for. Thanks to Hermione, you had time to get ready without any rush, and the two of you made your way to the common room to meet up with Harry and Ron so you could make your usual walk to the Great Hall. However, they weren’t there, and neither you nor Hermione planned on waiting for them. Your walk transpired, free of abnormalities, things only appearing astray upon your entrance to the Great Hall. For one, Harry and Ron had arrived before you and Hermione, which was unheard of, and second, your seat next to Draco was open yet again.

You looked at Hermione, then looked at the open seat, silently communicating your thoughts.

“It’s probably better that you go sit with him, you know, to stay on his good side. And maybe I’ll be able to figure out what’s going wrong with Harry,” Hermione said, picking up on your glances.

“This is why everyone says your so smart, isn’t it?” you said.

“That or I’m just incredibly logical,” she said and shrugged.

“You’re a genius, ‘Mione, I love you,” you said, blowing a kiss her way as you walked to the Slytherin table.

Breakfast wasn’t as bad as the day before, although that doesn’t mean it was fun. Crabbe made fun of you for finally eating, considering you hadn’t eaten the day before. Blaise and Pansy each observed your every move when you buttered your toast and the way you picked up your pumpkin juice. Draco basically ignored you, despite willing you to sit with them. The worst thing were the hoards of people whispering both your and Draco’s name. The whole school must have known at this point, and for the first time this year, Harry’s name wasn’t on everyone’s lips. It was yours.

“I think we should get going,” you said to Draco and Blaise as class drew closer, although you predominately just wanted out of under the school’s gaze.

“You’re probably right,” Blaise said as he scooped his bookbag off of the floor. “We’ll see you fools later,” he said to Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson.

Following Blaise, you stood up alongside Draco, unable to block out the words floating around you.

“Merlin are they really together?” you heard a fourth year Ravenclaw speculate.

“Why else would she be sitting with them?” their friend responded.

Draco must have heard them too because he picked up your bag for you, grabbed your hand, and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t listen to any of them, they’re just jealous, darling."

You swallowed the tension that rose in your throat and forced a smile to come upon your lips, following a nod in recognition. With that, the three of you walked off to the dungeons for your potions class. You filed into the class, and since you were still working with Draco, you didn’t have the opportunity to speak to Hermione, and your thoughts were quickly interrupted by Professor Slughorn.

“Alright, this is the last day you’ll have with your amortentia. If you were successful, you should be able to smell what attracts you the most in your potion by the end of class. As Miss Granger kindly noted on our first day of class, a properly brewed bought will also have a mother of pearl sheen. Please call me over when you believe you are done.”

In approaching your potion, you begrudgingly admitted to yourself that it wasn’t half bad and that it may possibly turn out to be good. You and Draco worked quietly and efficiently to finish the project with the hopes of receiving good marks. Although Harry and Ron were the first to complete the potions, which was most likely thanks to Harry’s annotated textbook, which didn’t bother you much.

Not shortly after, your potion shifted from a flat red to a shimmering white, and you looked at Draco, indicating for him to raise his hand to summon your Professor. Slughorn noticed the blonde’s hand and shuffled over to your shared workspace to view your potion. After looking it over approvingly, he glanced up at both of you.

“Could you please tell me what you smell, Mr. Malfoy?” He asked Draco as this was apart of the criteria for completing the project.

Draco nodded and leaned over the cauldron, “I smell vanilla, old books, peonies,” he paused a moment, “and firewhiskey.”

“An exceptionally exciting lady, you’ve got your mind on there!” Slughorn said with a chuckle, then gestured to you. “Now, if you don’t mind, Miss. Y/l/n.”

You nodded and took your spot above the potion, breathing in. “Green apples, expensive cologne, and,” you took another breath “I don’t know Professor, it’s hard to tell.”

“No, no darling, sometimes if our feelings are confused, we have a hard time smelling Amortenia! I doubt this is a reflection of your potion brewing skills as you, my dear, are top of the class. This is a wonderful draught of Amortentia you two, good work, you’ll be getting top marks,” Slughorn explained, causing you more concern than joy. “Feel free to enjoy the rest of the period for yourselves,” he said to dismiss you both.

You turned back around to look for Draco, who was already nearly out of the classroom. You quickly picked up your bookbag and rushed after him. Being that his legs were longer than yours, you had to call out his name once you were out of the classroom.

“Draco!” you shouted from across the hallway.

“What?” He turned around and bit at you, not bothering to walk towards you.

“Why did you rush out? We received top marks,” you asked.

“I figured you wouldn’t want to spend any more time with me than you had to,” he said, his explanation clearly rubbish.

“Oh, alright, well let me know when you want to plan a study date or anything of the sort,” you said and nodded, and he didn’t give a moment to process, just turning around and returning to his long strides towards the Slytherin common room while you stood in the middle of Hogwarts dungeons.

Had it been Draco you smelled in that potion? It certainly wasn’t Harry, he often smelled of soap and the quidditch pitch, and he rarely wears cologne. It wasn’t as if there were any other boys around Hogwarts you thought that much about.

‘Vanilla, old books, peonies, and firewhiskey’

It couldn’t be you he smelled in the Amortentia. Draco despised you, you were sure of it. What other explanation could there be? He had to hate you. How else could you explain his constant attitude? But then there was the book yesterday, how could he have known about that? Why did he care to know? And why did he care enough to order it in for you? You were paralyzed in your confusion. He could have lied about what he had smelled, Slughorn wouldn’t have known the difference, so, why?

Part 4 - The Maroon Jumper

Taglist - @whatawildone @herequeerandstressed @lordfxxker @pillowjj @pointlesscoconut @lovelylangdonx @fire-in-her-veinz @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog @oi-itsemily @lukehemmingslut831 @peachybeannn

#draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco x you #Draco Malfoy x you #arranged marriage #draco malfoy arranged marriage #arranged marriage fic #harry potter #fanfiction #draco malfoy fanfiction

245 notes · View notes

imagines-choices · 3 years

Text

Blind Date - Dakota Winchester x MC

[ Dakota x MC ]

Summary: With some time, Amy finally convinced you to go on a blind date, but a certain ghost made the date a little more interesting

Author's note: this is part of the ghost series, but can be read as a stand alone. Just keep in mind Dakota's a ghost here

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1,270

Part 2 of the ghost series (Blind Date can be read as a stand alone)

"So, have you tried dating?" You sighed on the phone as you stopped writing and put your pen down, along with the croissant you were eating.

"No, Amy."

"Why not? Wait you know what, you better have not without telling me. But seriously though, he would want you to move on instead of just hanging onto the thought of what can't be." Oh boy, if only she knew.

"Amy..." You warned her.

"That's it! I'm setting you up on a blind date. There's this friend of mine, and I think he'd be really into you." You groaned and burried your face into your pillow.

"Is that really necessary? Can't I just be single?"

"No, I'll give you the date, time and place. You better go or I'm dragging you there myself."

"But–"

"No buts, I have to go now. Bye!" She gave you no room to complain as she hung up on you. You loved your friend, and you really did appreciate her efforts, but Dakota's here and now you have a blind date with someone. This really wasn't necessary, but you're going either way whether you liked it or not, because Amy's definitely not going to give up on this.

You sighed and went back to writing your essays that were due tomorrow. Ever since college, you'd been so busy and you barely had time to go and visit your friends anymore.

"I heard something about a blind date?" Dakota appeared out of nowhere, making you jump.

"You have to stop doing that. It's the third time today."

"I just can't resist." You felt the tiny piece of croissant leave your hands and shoved into your mouth, which made you instinctively chew.

"It's been an hour and you haven't finished your croissant. Poor thing, I bet it's cold."

A few days later you had just finished college and you were in my room, contemplating what to wear for the date. You were certain that you've been spending at least thirty minutes in front of the mirror, deciding what to wear.

"Does it really matter? It's not like you're actually thinking of it as a date... right?"

"What if I am thinking of it as an actual date?"

"Don't tease me." Within a blink of an eye, Dakota was standing right behind you, his strong arms encircling your waist from behind.

"What do you say if I tag along this little 'date' of yours?" He said, beginning to leave light kisses all the way from your shoulder, up towards your neck. You didn't even try to push back the shiver that ran through your spine at the feeling of his lips on your skin.

"Mmm... okay..." You could feel the smile forming on his lips as he kissed your neck one last time before pulling away.

"Better get dressed before I carry you to bed instead." Your eyes follow his, landing onto your lack of clothing. You spent another fifteen minutes getting ready before hearing the honk of Amy's car from outside. Dakota disappeared as you went downstairs and outside into your friend's car.

"What took you so long? I texted you ten minutes ago."

You shrugged involuntarily as she started driving. "Didn't know what to wear."

"Alright. So just remember, don't be awkward, and guys like it if they can do something nice for his date, so let him pay."

"But–"

"Trust me." You slumped back in your seat, just wanting this all to be over with. You were probably going to scare him off or something. Well... if Dakota doesn't do that first.

Thirty minutes later and Amy's dropping you off in front of the restaurant. She helps you grab your things and urges you to go inside.

"Do I have to?" You whined, staying put in your seat.

"Yes! Now go have fun!" She ushers you out before driving away, waving at you through the window. You were standing there, annoyed, when you felt a tug on your hand, pulling you towards an empty corner. Your instincts immediately went to throw a punch, but Dakota catches your blow easily.

"Woah, calm down. It's me." He appeared right in front of you, slowly letting go of your wrist.

"Don't just do that! I thought I was getting kidnapped!"

"Thought you'd be used to it by now. You know, the whole ghost thing." He shrugged, slinging an arm around your shoulder.

"Not when you're pulling me in alleyways and corners." You patted his cheeks before striding off inside the restaurant. As the waiter leaded you towards your table, you saw no one there and you frowned.

"And he's late?" You heard the voice scoff, seeing no one there. "Come on. Just ditch him, we can have fun." Dakota continued to whisper in your ear, still not visible to the eye.

"You know I can't. He's Amy's friend and she won't let this go." As if on cue, you see a guy in a blue shirt headed towards your table. You knew Dakota was watching his every move, probably planning to do something stupid.

"Hey, are you y/n?"

"Yeah. I suppose you're my date? Derek right?" You tried not to sound so uninterested, making Dakota snort from beside you. If you could punch him right now, you really would. You just hoped that your 'date' didn't hear anything.

A few minutes later, the two of you were ordering and this was getting way too boring for you. As if he can read your mind Dakota pulled Derek's chair back a bit, just enough to make Derek look behind him.

"What's wrong?" You asked, fully knowing that Dakota was messing with him. Derek glanced around a few more seconds before turning to you.

"I could have sworn someone pulled my chair back. It's nothing." A few seconds later, a nut hit his face, making him flustered all over again.

"What– who–?" He was cut off shortly when he fell backwards from his chair. You gaped as some faces turned towards Derek.

"Are you okay?" You quickly got up to help him.

"Yeah, I just felt something in my back and I guess I fell backwards. Oh god, this is embarrassing." His whole face flushed as you helped him onto his seat. You were pretty sure that Dakota was laughing his arse off right now.

You made your way to your own seat when the waiter came back with your food and a pitcher of water, which made you worry a little. Okay a lot. You could practically sense Dakota's next move and before you could even eat your food, Derek was drenched in water. Your mouth hung open widely as you stared at the scene in front of you.

"I-I'm sorry, I have to go." Derek rushed out of the building, you chasing after him. But before you could catch up to him, he was already gone.

"That was just mean." You scolded and Dakota appeared beside you.

"Come on, it was a little funny." He nudged your side with his elbow, and worry began to edge his face when he saw the serious look on yours.

"Poor guy." You shook your head and walked towards the bus stop. You didn't feel like having to explain the whole date to Amy as she drives you home, so you settled for the bus instead.

"Hey, I'm sorry..." Dakota whispered in your ear, disappearing from sight.

You sighed. "It's okay. I guess it was a little funny." You laughed to yourself, getting a few weird looks from the people next to you.

"On the bright side, now we can spend time together."

#dakota winchester #dakota x mc #dakota winchester imagine #dakota choices #choices #choices imagine #choices stories you play #with every heartbeat #with every heartbeat imagine #WEH #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #headcannons #drabble #preferences #oneshot #fluff #fluffy

24 notes · View notes

write-haikyuu · 4 years

Text

Break-up Pranks (ft. Miya Twins & Kita Shinsuke) | scenarios

@adrasteiaxandromedaa: may i request a break up prank scenario with the miya twins and kita? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Here it is! I was a little hesitant to write about them because to be honest, I’m not sure if I truly understand their character and its hard when I have just the manga to reference them. Nonetheless, this was a good challenge for me. :) Hopefully this is what you’re looking for!

Also. Hands down I am in love with kita shinsuke. you peeps stay tuned because I’m going to hydrate y’all for some kita shinsuke headcanons real soon

warning: some cussing

Miya Atsumu

Silence. Unyielding, cold, and weighted silence tensed as if the crowd was holding their breaths to see Miya Atsumu serve. Except this time, there was no crowd. Just you and your boyfriend Atsumu sitting on the driver and passenger seat completely distraught over the six words you just uttered out of your mouth after a date night. I think we should break up.

“Why now?” Atsumu huffed out, his hands clenching on the steering wheel as he stared out of the windshield. He was furious, confused, and most importantly- hurt. Atsumu retraced back to all the months he spent with you, analyzing, evaluating, and contemplating where it could have gone wrong. He was one to never question his logic, but right now with you, he feels completely hopeless. Regardless of the situation, the tone of his voice has never ceased to pace your heart so quickly. You bit your lips. Trying to remain composed, you tugged on the seatbelt before you lowered your voice, “I just… don’t feel happy with you anymore.”

“Y/N. Look at me in the eyes and tell me why,” he snapped his head towards you so fast, you could feel the weight of his tears slowly starting to stimulate right before you. Feeling as though you simply couldn’t take it anymore, you took another breath. Your eyes softly met up with his and you finally broke the tension, “Atsumu it’s because…it’s a joke,” you tittered, trying not to let out all your laughter at once because you feared he would break down (in the worst-case scenario). He still wouldn’t move. You slowly pointed to the Go-Pro hidden on the sun visor on top.

Atsumu rolled his head back and let out a sigh of relief, a smile slowly creased his lips as he shook his head. “Seriously?! I spent a full four fucking minutes thinking about what I did!” He wanted to be mad at you so bad. But seeing how apologetic you looked as you turned off the camera, he simply couldn’t stay mad. “I’m sorry! Osamu dared me to!” You grabbed his hands to rub it gently. When asked why, it turned out that if you had successfully made Atsumu cry, he’d pay ¥5000. That’s more than enough to compensate for your date tonight. To that, Atsumu simply couldn’t be mad at you at all.

Miya Osamu

“Then let’s just break up then.” You scoffed. The seriousness in that tone left Osamu to seize all his chewing and stare blankly at you. He couldn’t tell if you were being real or not, but either way the way it came off definitely didn’t make him feel like you were joking in any way either. It was really rare for the two of you to fight. Especially since you both knew that he was definitely the more “cool-headed” twin between him and Atsumu. Nonetheless, he played back your words and it still didn’t sit right with him, and the tension in the room began to rise.

The spoon slammed onto the dining table. Osamu had his elbows on the table– something he never does because you know he has his own way of eating and you could just tell that this was certainly not his favorite meal right now. Your eyes finally met with his, and you could see he was not having it tonight. Quickly averting yourself back to your plate, you quietly took another bite and all you could hear was aggravated breathing and aspirated sighs as your boyfriend chewed through his food. Damn these sausages were good, but he was too angry to tell you and too hungry to not eat all the food made just for him. The chopsticks slammed on the bowl. Osamu huffed. His arms pinned against his knees as he turned his head away from the steam coming from the dumplings that freshly came out from the basket. Fuck, that smells godly.

“‘Samu-”

“WHAT?!” he retorted.

You pucker your lips and softly place a hot dumpling on his plate. He glared at the ball of meat before him and harshly stuffed the burning, excruciatingly hot dumpling in his mouth before spitting it out the burning sensation. You quickly tried to rush him a cold cup of water and he chugged it just as fast. As the heat slowly descended, so did his temper.

“It was just a joke!” you finally broke. Your hands rubbing the temples of your face as you watched him stare at the empty glass cup.

“I’m sorry ‘Samu,” you pouted.

“Well I for one, didn’t think it was fucking funny at all,” Osamu picked up another dumpling. This time, he made sure to blow on it. He definitely was feeling better. Now knowing that you were just kidding this whole time, he nearly scoffed at himself for almost falling for that one so quickly.

The rest of the meal still remained quiet and the tension had definitely died out. As you tried to gauge his mood, you casually finished dinner early enough to pack rice balls for his lunch in front of him. The empty plates and his patted belly surely signaled that Osamu was no longer angry. In fact, he later told you he pretended to hold his anger the second half of dinner, hoping you’d feel “guilty” enough to pack him extra rice balls the following day. To that, you both laughed as you called it a good night.

Kita Shinsuke

Everything had been done. The phone flipped down to the table as you exhaled and anticipated for a response. After an hour of finger flexing and your mind tapping the screen away, a 700-word essay had been sent to the recipient. Knowing that your boyfriend wasn’t the type to text back with paragraphs, there was only one thing you were waiting for. About twenty minutes later, your phone buzzed. You glanced at the caller ID before picking up the call. Your breath held back as you tried to sound neutral, “H-Hey Shinsuke.”

“Really? A breakup text? That’s the best you could do?” his voice didn’t even flinch.

“I…” you inhaled once more. Trying your best to not break out of character, your lips quivered as your eyes began to water. It’s not easy to fool Kita Shinsuke. That’s precisely why you had to really pull together all those improv and acting lessons to follow through. “…I shouldn’t be talking to you. I’m with someone else right now.”

“Oh. Someone else you say?” He coldly replied.

Trying to revert the sharp tone, you paused and didn’t say anything back. You were terrible at this. But, since your “ex-boyfriend” hasn’t said anything back, just assume that everything was going according to plan and move forward, you told yourself. Finally, you spoke up.

“Yeah. I’m with Tadashi from the basketball team. Please don’t call me anymore,” squeezing the fox plush Shinsuke won for you on your first date, “We’re much better off without each other.”

You could hear a faint sigh from the other line, “Alright then. I wish you the absolute best with Tadashi,” his voice trailed off softly towards the end. Click. The line had already ended and with your ear still pressed against the phone, suddenly you’re the one left feeling as though he had broken up with you. Now your fake tears had actually formed into real tears. Your chest beat quickly as you tried to redial his number, but much of your demise, it went straight to voicemail. Before you grabbed your jacket to race over to his place, your phone dinged.

By the way, since when did Tadashi get so fluffy?

Dumbfounded, you stared at the screen. Trying to interpret his words, the tapping on your window broke you out of your state and the phone rang this time.

“You were so busy typing me a fake break up text that you forgot we were supposed to go on a date tonight didn’t you?” he spoke over the phone. Turning towards the window, Shinsuke unwaveringly stood. His eyes fixed on you as his eyebrows raised and a small smile creased his lips. You finally let out the laugh that you held in the entire time. His head shakes slowly before you ran to open the door to hold him in a tight embrace.

415 notes · View notes

jj-ey · 3 years

Note

Ok so i just have one question. I saw that you said you ship Reonnayu exclusively and that its irreversible. May i ask why ?? Why nayut is only for reon and reon only for nayuta

Great question anon, I was hoping someone would ask this so I can explain why it has to be REONNAYU. Sorry for the late reply, I started legit writing an essay on this cause I have so much to say but then it got too long and I was too tired to finish it, so I’m going to break it down into main points.

**SPOILER ALERT: All AAside media**

1. Reon is in love with Nayuta throughout the different media platforms of AAside

I would first like to say that I'm actually a victim of Misono Reon, I had no intentions in shipping ReonNayu, in fact, I was a hardcore KanaHaru shipper (still am). Honestly, Reon himself sold ReonNayu to me, and he became my favourite character and I'm just supporting whatever he wants to do, which is Nayuta ;)

Reon is just so blatantly in love with Nayuta and this is consistent throughout the different media platforms of AAside. I'm just going to start listing instances as it comes to my head

GYROAXIA light novel "目醒めの王者/The Awakening of the Ruler" is basically a ReonNayu fanfic (if you haven't read it, definitely check it out). Reon gets very excited and happy when he gets Nayuta's slight approval, but he tries to hide it (and fails). He also monologues things like "I want Nayuta's eyes to reflect me", "Nayuta's music is one and only to Reon", "Nayuta's music is the only thing that makes Reon hot" (folks I'm not making this up, like seriously). There are also sentences like "Nayuta's music was the only thing filling Reon's empty heart", "Essentially, Reon and Nayuta are the same", "When Nayuta said 'Never come back', there was nothing left for Reon", "I will make Nayuta cry someday", "Reon could not forgot Nayuta eyes that were denying him", "It was just for a moment, Nayuta's eyes were towards Reon", "Nayuta's gaze made Reon's soul burn". Like seriously, I am not making this up. This is real folks. Pleas read the light novel - it's literally just a reonnayu BL novel.

Reon chose Nayuta and Nayuta chose Reon. This is also in the light novel, but before Gyroaxia, Reon, Yuuto, Kenta, Nayuta and mob (Shinya) were in a band together, Nayuta didn't like Yuuto's sound so he kicked Yuuto out. Kenta of course followed Nayuta, Reon followed Kenta, yelling at Nayuta about how he can't just do that. Nayuta just nonchalantly says that it's either Yuuto or him, and Kenta says of course he will follow Nayuta. Here comes the incredible thing - Nayuta asks Reon "what are you going to do". Reon responses that Nayuta will become a pro and he also wants to be a pro, together. Let me just point out that Reon is the only Gyroaxia member that Nayuta has brought along, that Nayuta chose. They chose each other.

Let's talk about the mobile game. Gyroaxia band story revolvs around Reon crashing with Nayuta. While everyone just goes along with Nayuta and he's tyrant behaviour, Reon disagrees with it. This is more with the second point, but Reon wants to support Nayuta, wants to be needed, the only and one (like Nayuta is to him) to Nayuta. Also the extras... I think it was Extra 3? or 4? There is one where Yuuto helps Reon's university homework and Reon thinks about how he just left Yuuto alone when he was following Nayuta to become Gyroaxia. He contemplates about that (he says that he felt pretty bad after and always thought about that day, but dude seriously, you, Kenta and Nayuta went to practice rightaway). Anyways, he ends up saying to Yuuto (who did not ask anything, Reon just called him out) that he doesn't regret choosing Nayuta and he will not apologize for it (like seriously, Yuuto didn't even say anything). Reon continues to say that Nayuta is his only path, and he will walk proudly. And Yuuto is just like.. dude TMI.

Get Myself is Reon's song. Please look up the lyrics - it's about Reon's determination to prove himself to Nayuta and how Nayuta is his only path and he can't take any other way (it's in the lyrics, seriously). And the song strong... LOL. It's another story about Reon needing to prove himself to Nayuta, and wanting Nayuta to need him, and Reon will become Nayuta's one and only (rhythm) guitar.

Event and card stories... There is just too much... Reon saying things like he wants to make his partner not regret that they chose him. And the Donten event... That entire event is Reon being the Alpha he is, and pining for Nayuta. I'm not joking. Even Banri's event card story is reonnayu.

Overall, not only is Reon in love with Nayuta's music, unlike the other members of Gyroaxia, he also sees Asahi Nayuta as a human. Reon wants to be an essential part in Nayuta's music, but also wants to be essential and needed to Asahi Nayuta, a person. He truly sees Nayuta as a human being and probably the only one who cares for him (not his music, but Asahi Nayuta). For example, Kenta just sees Nayuta as an instrument and only cares about Nayuta's music. Similarly, Ryo likes the light that Nayuta emits and refers Nayuta as a bright star, but guess what, the light that stars emit is caused by burning itself. Nayuta is burning himself to create his music and to shine brightly. Reon even says that Nayuta will keep on running if no one stops him. Nayuta will keep on burning, using himself as fuel, until only his ashes remain. Reon wants to stop that, he doesn't want Nayuta to be reduced to ashes, because he cares for Nayuta, as a person.

There is just too much, I can't even list everything. Just... whenever Reon open's his mouth, he talks about Nayuta. He is in love with Nayuta, and I just want to repsect his wishes.

2. Reon and Nayuta are essential for each other’s self-enlightenment and personal growth

Reon does a lot of improv during lives and likes to add his own twists to Nayuta's music. So much, that Nayuta refuses to give Reon the solo guitar (because Reon improvs so much), that role went to Kenta. Which is also fine cause Reon says that he actually likes the rhythm part. Reon wants to introduce new things to Nayuta, not only music, but new experiences. He wants to broaden Nayuta's view. Reon believes that Nayuta's music can evolve more, perhaps by adding an external sound (like his improvised part). This is really evident in the Egoist song story in the mobile game.

Continuing on with the above point, the amazing thing is, Nayuta allows Reon to improv. Of course, it's 90% Nayuta saying how crappy it was but there are rare chances were Nayuta approves. And although Nayuta says Reon's improv was crap, Nayuta doesn't ever ban Reon improving his part. I wonder why, hmmmm?

Needless to say, Nayuta continues to challenge Reon and continues to bring him to a heightened place. Reon isn't a genius, but he is talented and he is extremely hard working. He continues to work hard to answer to Nayuta's every demand, but also to prove himself to Nayuta.

Reon is probably the only person who sees Nayuta, not Nayuta's music, but Nayuta as he is, and cares and deeply in love with Nayuta.

Reon is the only person who continues to challenge Nayuta, in music, in his point of view, in anything. While Kenta supports Nayuta's music and always agrees with him or even Ren who reveres Nayuta, Reon challenges Nayuta. Nayuta needs a challenger in order to grow, as a person and in his music. Reon is essential in Nayuta's self-englithentment as much as he is to Reon.

The relationship between Reon and Nayuta is just so wholesome I want to support them!

3. Nayuta is physically unable to top Reon nor does he care

This my answer behind why it has to be reon x nayuta, not never ever the other way around.

Not only Nayuta is physically unable to top Reon (Reon is only 2 cm is taller but 7 kg heavier! Aaand they are the same age. Their height is similar but their build is totally different). Plus Nayuta also as asthma which can negatively impact his stamina.

But sure, there are plenty of smaller tops, why can't Nayuta? Well friends, can you guys imagine Nayuta taking care of his bottom? Can you guys imagine Nayuta doing all the prep and aftercare and all that? No. Hence Reon can do all that stuff for him and Nayuta doesn't have to lift a finger.

Honestly I don't think Nayuta cares which position he is in, as long as he gets a strong stimulation to clear his mind. Reon definitely will mind, he definitely want to be the one holding Nayuta, to make Nayuta feel things he never felt before, for him to make sounds he never made before and for him make expressions that he never made before. He also wants the satisfaction that he is needed to Nayuta, and he's the one holding Nayuta. Again, I want to respect Reon's wishes.

Anyways, thank you for coming to my Ted Talk, and I hope more people come to like ReonNayu! I'm also on twitter @jj_argnvs_ and happy to chat!

#jjask #reon misono #nayuta asahi #reon x nayu #reonnayu

5 notes · View notes

skeptiquewrites · 3 years

Note

4, 6, 39 for the asks! :-)

Hi anon! ✨ 4. name three authors that were influential to your work and tell why Hanif Abdurraqib writes with unflinching sincerity, so clearly I am always immersed whether it's an essay or poetry. I always aspire to his level of incisiveness.

Irene Nemirovsky constructed sentences like scaffolding and revelled in the deep pettiness of human nature even when more important things are going on. I always aspire to her insight into character.

Talia Hibbert illustrates softness in writing characters dealing with weighty matters, humour in daily life and how good a well-earned happy ending feels. I always aspire to her playfulness. 6. how did writing change you? I like to think it made more contemplative, more aware of the contours of my emotional landscape, more observant. Writing, especially in my current writerly phase, has given me a focus and an outlet for my tendency to ruminate and I think has made me a bit calmer because of it. 39. do you want to be published some day? What I really want is validation. And there's something really tempting about the intense validation being published would give me. But I wouldn't do it just to do it because it would take up a lot of time and effort. Although I have a few WIPs that are original work, I think until I feel very strongly they have to be told, I'm willing to wait. I have the research and some resources because it's something I looked into very seriously. But right now I'm happy with my creative output. fanfic writer asks

#asks for fanfic writers #asks #anonymous

3 notes · View notes

notasiren21 · 4 years

Text

To those who want to kill themselves:

I’m not going to sugarcoat this at all. I’ll be gentle at times and then rather aggressive. And for good reason...

Because you deserve to fucking live.

I’m aware there’s blatant bullying, discreet and subtle bullying that makes you question if you’re just being sensitive and taking things too seriously (most of the time you’re not, trust me), neglect, familial issues, and then situational instances that pound into your heart and head consistently.

Believe it or not, but the cliché term of “it does get better” is true, just as long as you yourself is willing to check its validity and try.

I thought of several ways like drowning myself in the bathtub and hoping my fingertips would slip on the rims so I couldn’t pull myself up when my body got weak/ holding a knife to my chest while crying/ contemplating on just taking those three steps into the road when I was supposed to get the mail/ jumping off my balcony/ finishing off my oxycodone pills from a wisdom teeth surgery/ etc.

Maybe I’m a coward or was weak, but I could never follow through with it. Just left with that same bottle lying in a medicine basket somewhere or had a brief puncture mark on my chest that just broke the skin with the tip, whatever.

Crying myself to sleep almost every night because it was too much.

Honestly, I think being a coward and weak was the best thing to happen to me.

I lost a boyfriend from how much my anxiety and suicidal thoughts consumed me and had to tell my parents why I was dumped which led to me seeing their faces when I fessed up and said “I’m not happy, I’m not okay”.

It’s funny because I’ve had a cry for help several times through stuff I’ve written and published on fanfic sites, stuff I’ve given to my teacher to read senior year, literally telling my AP Lit class two years ago I was depressed and thought suicidal shit (only 8 of us in that class and teacher) and being told “it’s just like that sometimes, gotta shake it off”, “don’t let people’s words get to you”, “yea, same” and having a teacher pretend like she heard nothing.

That one time I was brave, and I was waved off.

I know there are times where you finally find your voice for that one split second and then you’re ignored, and you feel yourself rescinding back to mute and distant.

I know you’re plastering a smile on constantly to fool others because you’re afraid what will happen when they find out.

It sucks, doesn’t it?

When you hear so many voices in your head playing that record on repeat of the things you most want to forget. Having those nightmares occur where someone takes the final step to push you to your edge. Seeing the annoyed rolling of eyes or blatant show of disinterest of you.

Nine years of schooling, because after 3rd grade, I was just one of those girls who females decided to hate for breathing or asking a question. So nine years I was trying not to victimize myself in my head and justifying why everyone acted the way they did to me.

Teenage girls and teachers alike made my life hell. The girls never gave me the chance and teachers treated me like I was some lost cause that couldn’t even make it to merit roll and like my work was shit.

“Oh, you sure you can make it into the media production film? I don’t think you’ll be able to make shows like you planned. Maybe try for something else.”

“Your writing is, it’s okay. Try harder next time.”

I struggled with grades in high school and wondered if I’d even graduate.

I made the president’s list my first year of college. Got straight A’s. My English professors loved to leave excited feedback on my essays and were amazed how quickly I could conjure one up and fix my own mistakes before peer review.

My professors talked about me to one another and when I met the new ones, they already knew of me.

My history professor begged me to write a poem for a book he’s writing and publishing near 2021.

My creative writing professor attacked me with an email of compliments over a chapter book of poems I wrote where i took them in the order written so it was me at my worst, to me fooling myself, to me losing and falling back, to me trying for help, to me being the best I’ve ever been. >I also made him cry in a class writing experiment with less than 300 words.

(Idk maybe the bitch is that sensitive but he was chill)

My point is: fucking block out what other people say or do to you. Tell someone you trust you need help and stop kidding yourself.

And please, for the love of god, if it is really that bad then do not make yourself so naive into believing a friend or partner can take the brunt of it all and fix you.

It may work for some time, but if you’re still suffering, they will too and neither of you will win in the end.

I took to therapy and it worked. And I dropped all the toxic shit out of my life and moved on.

I may not use social media besides Tumblr or Discord, but I’m more present in life than I was before and not comparing myself to others anymore.

I dropped friends that made me feel bad and bashed things I liked or would cause issues and I have a peace of mind (as much as one can have one during a pandemic and such).

Get the help. Find ways to receive help if you can’t financially afford it. Find that courage to tell someone you trust that listens to you that you are suffering and need that professional help and to be taken seriously.

I was the first to walk the graduation stage of my 2019 class, and I thought I’d be the first of us to die because I couldn’t move past everything I’ve endured from a large majority of them.

I would’ve missed how positively my life turned around.

I would’ve destroyed my parents, little sister, and brother for being so selfish.

I’m the middle child, the good kid with a career in mind and the mediator of the family. And I’m used to not being the favorite but appreciated one.

My dad confessed to me that I was his favorite and I never want to hear it again.

You never want to hear a man you see as the strongest person you know say that while trying not to cry and keep his voice normal, you don’t want to hear “You were always my favorite” said in such a thick voice it brings tears to your eyes.

Your life matters.

This isn’t Sims where you can move on to the next household member. This isn’t like throwing LEGO R2-D2 off a cliff with that iconic scream only or lose a few coins. This isn’t a fucking game.

And I am so sick of hearing people treat it like some quest you get once in your life:

“You’ll be okay.”

“Cheer up.”

“It’s just a phase.”

Etc.

It’s all fucking bullshit. We live in a world that sugarcoats the severity of someone’s life when it’s presented in front of us while on the precipice of shattering.

You deserve to live. Anyone who tells you otherwise is the one who loses the right to be considered human or a person, not you.

Do not let someone dictate your life’s outcome because they don’t agree with you or like you.

And please, for all that is good in this world, don’t fool yourself into thinking you’re alright when you don’t feel it.

Hang in for one extra day to gather the strength and tell someone you need help.

Everyone acts so ashamed of it but it was the best thing that happened to me after being such a weak coward and now, I’m genuinely happy. And it was a lot of work to get here.

Want to know where all my angst and suffering had gone to? Just ask the characters in the books and fanfic content I’ve written. I’m sure they don’t appreciate it, but those stories wouldn’t exist if I gave up then.

And believe it or not, people will fucking miss you like hell if you killed yourself. It’s just too hard to see it right now and I was blinded before too.

Not everyone has the same opinion of you. Not everyone matters in your life.

You’re living this life singlehandedly by yourself while surrounded by others experiencing the same thing. Don’t let that opportunity go to waste.

And if you need distractions, indulge yourself in the harmless guilty pleasures like I do.

It can get better if you just open yourself to it.

It can get better if you get help.

You really must be so tired, isn’t it time you stopped pretending?

64 notes · View notes

undeific · 4 years

Text

i promise it’s not that deep, or why you’re wrong about self-inserts: an essay by your friendly neighborhood chaotic neutral

So, self-inserts. A hot topic, apparently. In 2020. Perhaps it’s due to a dashboard full of young, possibly underage writers (which is not a bad thing! embrace your creativity!), but this is a discussion I believed we had matured past. Since it has been floating around, though, here is my take, and the take a great deal of circles have embraced in the past 6-7 years or so.

There’s always been a self-insert problem in the community — not necessarily self-inserts themselves, but rather the response to them. It’s no secret that these characters are commonly regarded with disdain and always have been: they’re viewed as the most self-indulgent form of character, the least creative, and the worst-written, having been made solely for the purpose of connecting with canons and living out one’s own Mary Sue-adjacent fantasies. To some extent, these generalizations make sense and line up with a reality we are all very familiar with; after all, these assumptions must come from somewhere, and there would be few canon-portraying writers among us who could say they’ve absolutely never been met with an uncomfortable situation brought on by an overeager self-insert. In 2013, the worst crime a roleplayer could possibly commit was create a character like this, and would result in what was considered, and many times was, a well-deserved blacklisting from entire fan spaces and writing circles. A self-insert was, after all, created with no integrity and only had bad intentions.

We all know the self-insert girl — and yes, she is a girl, of course. Her dialogue is clichéd, her plots are threadbare and consist primarily of smut and romance, her backstory is tragic and attention-seeking. She often has the same name as her creator and her faceclaim is self-flattering. She seeks out canons and attractive original characters of the male persuasion, persistent in her attempts to reach out, hoping to begin shipping with her victim — or victims — of choice. She is a being purely of self-gratification and wish-fulfillment. She is, in a word, embarrassing. We do not like her. She is told on the rule pages she does not read that she will be blocked, banned, and ultimately mocked by those who have seen her floating about. She is “politely” insulted and threatened for crimes she has yet to commit, and chased from the platform as quickly, cruelly, and efficiently as possible. Yet she always comes back in one form or another, like a cockroach.

These characters still exist, of course. They were never a myth. I am familiar with them, as are you, and everyone else who has dipped their toes into the writing pool. But they are an exaggerated breed these days, and often used to perpetuate elitism in spaces where it is entirely unnecessary. The shadow of the stereotypical self-insert’s reputation has been cast over original characters as a whole, specifically female characters, and has created an unwelcoming environment prone to cliques and harassment. A character outside an established canon is suspect. A woman outside an established canon — and sometimes even within — is eyed suspiciously, hypercritically, before being thrown a generous bone by a “lower-tier�� roleplayer who will determine whether or not she’s worthy of attention.

If any desire for wish-fulfillment is detected or perceived, she’s dropped quickly, often with no warning.

There is a strange idea that permeates throughout roleplaying culture that wish-fulfillment writing is done in bad faith. This is flawed logic in many ways. Roleplaying is not a job. It is not an inaccessible artform. If you engage in this form of entertainment, you are getting something out of it. You are stepping outside of yourself and becoming someone else, and you are enjoying it; you are, in other words, engaging in a form of wish-fulfillment, though perhaps not with the sticky connotations you are familiar with when contemplating the term. This very idea goes against the rhetoric that has been built up by the community, however — self-indulgence is taboo, roleplay is serious business, and only those worthy and “quality” shall partake and be given attention. (It has even been taken to the rather sad extent that if one does not keep up with aesthetic-based trends, they are met with passive disinterest if not outright disdain. But that is another essay entirely.) If you seek wish-fulfillment, you are not welcome. If you are a self-insert, you are not welcome. If your character shares too many traits with yourself, you are obviously seeking wish-fulfillment, and probably a self-insert to boot, so you are not welcome.

There are layers to this. People do not want to associate with these leper characters, and so they create strict rules to be adhered to — and that makes sense, as everyone is entitled to their own pleasurable experience, and their own guidelines. But these rules become meaningless in the shuffle, placed on carefully-crafted Google Documents to do nothing other than promote elitism and limit creativity, whether that is the intention or not. If you like a character, but find out it shares the same name and birthday with its creator despite little else in common, what do you do? If this character does not seem interested in pushing a ship onto you in your interactions, are they still breaking your rules? If a character was created with its writer as the base, though they do not behave in the stereotypical way that makes self-inserts unbearable, why is it so important? What do the origins of a character have to do with its current iteration? Why, if it does not have a negative impact on interactions, does it matter if a character is a self-insert or not? At the risk of sounding like a dusty academic, the bard once wrote, “A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” What, aside from preconceived ideas, does a character’s self-insert status have to do with anything?

“Discomfort” is the word primarily used when discussing these characters negatively, and many hoops are jumped through to justify why this discomfort is felt if there is no concrete reason, no offense committed. If one is willing to dissect another’s character, but not one’s own reasons for their own discomfort when confronted with the simple, low-impact reality that this character exists, some self-reflection is warranted. Even more so if this character is, as far as you have seen, well-written, fleshed out, and interesting, with the only “downside” being that it is, in fact, a self-insert.

To write well, one must understand the character they are working with. Divorcing oneself entirely from the characters they write will only work to their detriment. All creations, all characters, must contain a piece of the writer within them to some degree; that is the only way a piece of fiction will function — but if that is against the rules, we cannot write. We cannot engage in any sort of believable storytelling. Self-inserts are, at their core, only the most exaggerated form of original character.

This, of course, is capable of leading to problems; one of the greatest issues here is the possibility of the lines between fantasy and reality getting blurred. This has happened to me when dealing with self-inserts, as well as other original characters and even canons. It is distressingly common, one of the most unpleasant situations to arise in roleplay spaces. However, if it is your assumption that the lines of fantasy and reality will be blurred purely because a character has self-insert origins, that likely says much more about your own grasp on reality rather than the self-insert’s. It is and always has been important that proper distinctions and boundaries are maintained, no matter who the writer or character are. During heavy or dark threads, writers will often be found shooting jokes back and forth in the tags to put each other at ease, and people give out their handles on instant messaging platforms to ensure easier, more efficient communication out of character. If this is done efficiently, any issues that arise are handled in a stable, mature way, and the problems that lend themselves to roleplaying become ever rarer.

Self-inserts are like any other character, they just have a label with nasty connotations and an unfortunate history and stereotype attached. There should be no thorny questions here, only whether or not the character interests you personally. If the very term is a dealbreaker for you, you are taking yourself, and this, too seriously — and missing out on some fascinating storytelling in the process.

That being said, the character I portray owns a knife and I own a knife, so I am practically a self-insert myself. I guess I’m gonna be blocked!

#in honor of izaya's birthday i'm going to be controversial #disclaimer: i have no personal stake in this matter; i have not had a self-insert character since i was twelve;#i just hate roleplay culture as a whole.#i have a lot more thoughts on this but the essay had gotten long enough;#if anyone wants to engage in friendly and mature debate #or ask questions #i am open to it! because i am nice and stable and an adult.#this is just a polite and academically-leaning reminder that maybe we don't have to be so hostile.#forgive the sarcasm at the end lmao!#anyway back to writing in character.#✚ OUT OF INFORMATION.

25 notes · View notes