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tar-oh · 3 years

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Pick a Pile: What You Need To Know

Well, this is my second time posting this because the first time was before I even got everything on the post. Apparently accidentally hitting enter means it will post it, which is something that took over a decade on tumblr for me to figure out lol. Sometimes tumblr’s formatting frustrates me to NO END!!! I’m going to keep this brief since it’s my second time trying to post this: This is a smaller PAP with 3 piles looking into what you need to know at the moment. I find these extremely helpful because not only do they bring to light things that might be overlooked otherwise, but they also help me get more into the groove of readings again.

I also need to post a small disclaimer: This is for entertainment purposes. Not all of this is going to come true for everyone since it’s a general reading. Please take it with a grain of salt. If you do find that it resonates, I do readings starting at $6. DM if you’re interested. I also accept tips if you feel as though you want to (but they’re obviously not required). You can tip me here: cashapp $sararms paypal: paypal.me/sararms So, for the 3 piles, I have 3 Sandra Bullock movie posters because why not?! Choose away:

Pile 1:

Cards: 7 of wands, the moon, 10 of wands, alter, rooted (reversed), intuition (reversed), conviction, seeing the best, divine timing, vitality, following your heart, self-love "You gonna cry about it or boss up?" "Look at the fuckin' moon!" "There are people who dislike you because you don't dislike yourself." I haven't even gotten to pile 3, but I keep wanting to call you pile 3, so I think maybe if you were torn between the two piles, I'd check that one out too because there might be something over there for you as well. This 7 of wands is interesting. She's sitting like she's meditating or something, and she's in a bubble. I think this is you, kind of doing your own thing, trying hard not to get distracted by external things. And, maybe you are being distracted really easily right now, and maybe the moon comes into this with you worrying that if you're distracted you're going to have more trouble (whatever that means for you), and it'll end up being the stress of having to carry all of those wands? But, this 10 of wands is always interesting to me too, because she's not carrying all of the wands. In fact, a few of them light the path up the hill. 3, to be exact, and if we subtract 3 from 10, it's 7. So we're back where we started, with that 7 of wands. I think there's a message in here telling you to find the balance between trying to do it all yourself and allowing yourself to drown in whatever "it all" is for you, but also, being able to tune "it all" out too? Like, she looks like she’s sitting in a snow globe in the 7 of wands. I know it's supposed to be a circle of protection, a defense system, but I see a snow globe here. And there's a wand, poking at it. So, it's like the outside world is trying desperately to get to you. And, maybe it's not even bad. Maybe it's you closing yourself off because there are all these fears so then you're trying to do things on your own, independently. But, I think the message in that, along with finding a balance, is that there are people who see you struggling and trying to tackle all this by yourself and they want to help. They want to help carry those remaining 7 wands, but you're so stubborn about it. There's a need to let some things go. Maybe, not taking too much on your plate right now. I got the deck Spiritual AF, and I wanted to try and pull only about 2 cards for these piles, but 3 came out for you. They're kind of interesting. One corresponds with the moon, because it literally says "Look at the fuckin' moon!!!", and I think that's saying literally look at the moon. Maybe you feel a connection to the moon or just other things in outer space? But I also think it's telling you to take a moment and sit in silence, kind of like the lady on the 7 of wands. A moment of taking in the good things, and surely the moon is a good thing? It illuminates the night sky. I just accidentally typed night school, lol so maybe some of you are taking night courses? Is that a thing anymore? Or maybe if you're in school you do a lot of your work at night? I personally do, so maybe there is a draw to the moon. Maybe you feel more energy under it? The other cards from the Spiritual AF deck are interesting too. One is, "You gonna cry about it or boss up? (Pro tip: Do both.)" I think this is kind of less advice and more what you're doing right now. I see that in the 10 of wands. I think you're working through your discomfort. That's not the word I was originally looking for, but I think for some of you it is discomfort. But, for all, I see it as you working through the challenges. I think the message in that, is again, you don't have to take it all on on your own. Also, that you don't need to bottle up that discomfort. There are people trying to get into your globe to help you. For a small bit of you, it's not people trying to get into your snow globe to help, instead I feel like it's people who are egging you on and maybe they're the reason behind you working so hard. Like, you're trying to prove to them something. The other card from the Spiritual AF deck was "There are people who dislike you because you don't dislike you." For those that have people who are trying to get to you instead of helping, I think this is just a message to 1) keep up the hard work but also 2) make sure you are balancing it, though. I think there's a fine line between working hard and overworking, and I think you're at that threshold. Some have already crossed it. I definitely get a tired feeling from the moon and the 10 of wands. But, because this particular 10 of wands doesn't look like it's as much as a struggle as other versions I've seen, I can see that it's like close to being that struggle. So, you need to be careful you don't get there. Take care of your mental health, please. With the witches oracle, two cards fell out reversed before I could fully ask the question. I hesitated to take them, but I don't often get reversals with this deck, so I felt that it was for you. And, to be honest, they make sense to me. Especially rooted reversed and alter. Alter talks about literally making an alter to talk to spirit, or, making a sacred space within yourself. I kind of think of it as a safe space, like when you meditate or when you're able to just sit in silence, or even just listening to music. Whatever it is you do to unwind when things get really stressful. And, if you don't have something like that, I think you need to figure something out. There's a wide variety of things you can do. For me, painting, journaling, yoga/pilates, or even just listening to my favorite music is how I help calm myself down. Sometimes even going on a walk. It doesn't have to just be sitting and breathing, it's gotta be what feels right for you, ya know? So, that being said, I think once you're able to find this safe space for yourself, you'll start to hear messages. Whether it's from outside of you, or within your own mind. Intuition being reversed tells me you're having issues following it right now. I think getting that safe space is going to help you start to hear your intuition, or at least follow it better. To stop doubting it. I understand how that can be hard, I personally need cold hard facts before I can follow my intuition. I find that when I don't follow it because I lack sufficient evidence for my mind to think it's worth following, my intuition always ends up being right in the end. So, I think you're being asked to stop doubting yourself and your intuition. But, then there's a few of you who are daydreaming or are up in your head too much. So much so, you're lacking action. Maybe this is in the form of procrastination, too. Which, hey we're all guilty of that once and a while. But I think this is a call for you to be more action-oriented than. The booklet for the witches oracle mentions that this message is especially true if rooted is pulled too, which, it was. However, it, too, was reversed. So, I don't think it's a message for all of you. I think it's for a few. For all, though, even those who are trying this already, you need to find a way to better ground yourself. I personally have a few carnelians that just holding helps me feel more connected to my body. But, other things too. I listen to water, like waves. I do it with homework. Specifically Lake Superior waves because it's a lake I've been to, so I feel more connected to it. But, it could be anything for you. Water noises like waves or waterfalls. Birds? Even traffic noises. There's a need to feel whole within your body (something I have issues with a lot, myself, so I'm right there with you), as well as feeling safe to? I think some affirmations might help, because once they stick in your head you start to believe them. Something like, "I am safe. I am grounded. I am whole." These are a few things. I think you should look into other things because these are just my own ideas and I think it's going to be different for all. I also got two of those Affirmations! decks, the normal one and the creativity one. I wanted to pull a couple creativity cards for you guys who are into creative stuff, but I think they can apply for all of you. These two cards are Conviction, and Seeing the Best. Seeing the Best talks about taking something you have made and seeing only the good qualities in it, even if you think it's absolute garbage. It's about being proud of what you've made, but also your accomplishments, no matter how big or small. I think if you've been feeling like you're almost overworked, this is something needing to be done. Like, sitting down and mapping out all that has been done by you so far. I think you'll find, once you've done this, that you've accomplished so much and that sometimes it's hard to see in the moment, but those accomplishments are still there, no matter what. Conviction talks about being as authentic as you can be. Being yourself and not watering that down for anyone. I think with seeing the best, it means that those little quirks you have that other people don't, are so good. They're yours, and yours alone, so why would you want to hide them? They make you you. So, if maybe part of this stress and having people dislike you for being you (which, hey if that's happening, fuck them!!! You let Sara know who it is so she can give them a talking to!!!!), I think you're meant to take what makes you stand out and shout it louder than you have been. As that card states, people are going to dislike you for being you, right? So, why would you give into that? I personally think the best revenge (and the card even says this) is to just keep being you. I hate having to conform and I hate being told what to do, so to me that is perfect revenge. The biggest Fuck You that you could possibly dish out. The regular Affirmation! cards are following your heart (!!! intuition!!! being you!!!), vitality, and divine timing. Not gonna lie, when divine timing fell out I had to groan. That paired with the moon made me think that this was my pile, lol. Like, I'm so sick of having to be patient, but this message is that you need to know that this work will pay off. That you following your heart and your intuition will not lead you somewhere you don't want to be. Rather, it will lead you to exactly where you want to be and where you're meant to be. I think there's something you're being prepared for, but the moon tells me it's not supposed to be known yet. With all those cards about getting grounded and following your intuition, I'd say you're being prepared for something. I can't tell you what, because, like I said. You're not meant to know yet. It's supposed to be a surprise! And, damn do I hate hearing that, so if you do too, don't worry. You're not alone. We're just not meant to know yet. But, with two wands cards and one being a 10, I'd say you're close to ending a cycle or are in the process of doing so. Even though the intuition reversed can talk about all thinking and no acting, I think that was where you needed to be prior to right now, and now, you're meant to act. That's going to be different for everyone, because this is still a super vague reading. It's pretty general and I'm sure many people can find something within this, but depending on what's going on in your life, you're being asked to act. I also think vitality is asking you to act too. It talks about being alive and being grateful for that. So, I think it's telling you, you're alive, so you might as well act. Which, again, I kind of hate that message too, but clearly I'm getting it for myself as well lol, so if you're in the same boat as me. Your wild offering card was self-love, and I definitely was getting that vibe overall from this pile. I mean, from being told to value who you are and not to water it down for anyone, to being told to find your safe space and ground yourself, I think it's just overall telling you that you need to be your #1 priority. This is going to mean different things for everyone, again. Like, first off, you all do need to ground yourself, or work on it more. But also, making sure you don't have too much to handle right now, and learning when to ask for help. Self-love isn't easy at all, and sometimes I find we're our worst enemy. But, those are the times when we need to love ourselves the most, right? So, I'm just here to remind you that you're a wonderful person and that you are whole and okay. Please take care of yourselves! I love you guys! Really, I truly do, and I want you to love you too! Also, side note, again, with that self-love card, I'm thinking you need to look at the moon, or the stars. Or just, the night sky. Hell, even the day-sky. Also, I'm noticing that there are more blues and greens in this spread than other colors. Or just, less color than there could be, especially warm colors like red. I think that's another sign that maybe carnelians are good for you, or anything red? Like, red, orange, yellow (bright yellow). Idk! Just a thought! Also, I'm meant to tell you that with the divine timing, you're being watched over. Whether that's by the universe or a higher power or your ancestors? The bottom deck card for the witches oracle was the ancestors card which talks about being watched over, bottom deck for wild offering was trust, and your bottom deck for the tarot was 3 of swords. So, for some of you (or all of you?) you're feeling a lot of pain/heartbreak over a situation right now. Or, in the recent past you were. I think these are just saying, "hey, we see your pain and brighter days and things are ahead", so again. Being prepared for something, but something good I think. Just remember to take care of yourself in the mean time! I didn’t write down as many songs as I normally do, so I’m only doing 1 for each pile and yours was House on Fire by Black Taxi. Not sure how it applies to you, but there might be something within the lyrics? Or you may like it! Who knows! I know it was part of my huge playlist of like 1800+ songs and so it wasn’t a song I’d heard in years, so I was surprised! Pile 2:

cards: the devil, temperance, 9 of pentacles, journey, wolf, good things to come, everyone's a teacher, vitality, bravery, trust "Sometimes crushing it means asking for help" "You are the product of what you believe." "Your gut knows what's up. Trust that bitch." Right away, with that devil card, I'm hearing "A wolf in sheep's clothing". So, either someone is lying to you about who they truly are, or you're lying to someone? Someone is lying here. And, I'm not sure if it's entirely too bad. I definitely see that with this devil card comes a lot of temptation. Like, this one is a hot guy just kind of holding his hand out saying "Here, take my hand.", but like with taking his hand comes maybe a less than ideal situation? Whoever this is, they have mesmerizing eyes, so if this is someone lying to you, that's a clue. Light colored eyes too, like a really light blue or gray, maybe even green? That's not going to be for all of you, but for someone out there...Watch out. Two major arcana...I'm getting some Sagittarius and Capricorn vibes, especially Capricorn with the devil and the 9 of pentacles. So, aside from that message about someone lying, I read this as someone trying to balance out their materialistic side? Like, maybe they have a lot of abundance right now and they're tempted to spend money they don't need to be spending on things they don't need? The 9 of pentacles talks about stability, like independent stability. It's often read as a person who's single. But, this card is reversed, so it could be about....Oh. Okay, for some this is about a relationship where there is shared finances. I'm seeing this as trying to balance it out, between saving and spending. Like, knowing when you can indulge and when you need to hold back. But, for some, it's also just someone in your life trying to control your finances. Like, I think you are fairly independent, especially with what you make financially, but there is someone who is mooching off of you, or maybe just controlling how you deal with your earned finances? With the temperance, I think it's you finding where to allow interference and where not to. For some, it's not about money at all, and about a relationship, whether its between you and someone who is really controlling. For some this could be an abusive situation, but for most I think it's just that one of you has a tendency to try and control things. Maybe it's like, you're the 9 of pentacles and maybe it's reversed for you because you bend easily? Like, maybe you're a people pleaser and so, its like this devil energy comes in and is easily able to control you. For some it's bad, like manipulative. For others, it's just not on purpose. Maybe they just have a personality that just kind of is louder than yours? For some this is you being tempted by this devil character. Like, it could be someone you're really attracted to, and so maybe it's learning how to tame the temptation/attraction? But, this 9 of pentacles suggests that maybe...I don't think you need to tame it? I think it's like, you do need to find a good balance (again, so much balance!), but that this temptation in moderation isn't a bad thing, in fact, it's a good thing? Like, I get that some of you are needing to loosen up (lmao, me too, though) so this devil comes over, lends a hand with that. Which. Oof. Okay, definitely getting a lot of sexual energy here. Like at first I was joking a little like, oh that devil is hot! But now I'm like. Ooo. Okay, like really hot. Like I get a lot of attraction here between you two and I haven't even pulled more cards lmao, so while for some this is about materialism and controlling it and what not, for most its about another person. This person is super sunny too. Like, originally I was going off of the "wolf in sheep's clothing" (which could very well still ring true) and like go off of more darker meanings of the devil, but I think for most this is just a case where there's this person who is just super devilishly charming? Like, have you ever met anyone like that? Because I've met a few and PHEW. It's always something. So, I think to add to that, I think they're just really sunny. Like, have you ever met anyone who an embodiment of the sun to you? Again, I've met a few and it's always something. So, to say this person is something is an understatement. There's so much green so far, too. So I'd say this person is going to bust open your heart. Make it melt a little. I'm really warm, so, make you sweat a little. The bottom of the tarot is the emperor, so !! Yes. This person is kind of the Real Deal. A sunny person who also has a super seductive quality to them. They may get to be a little controlling, I don't think they mean it though, so make sure your boundaries are strong. This person wears boots for some of you, or like, they have a pair they like to wear. Maybe hiking boots? For most I see timbalands lmao Also tattoos and darker hair colors. Longer hair too. Their skin is darker, or they tan well. Don't take this to heart, this could just be for a few of you. The most interesting thing has happened. I pulled the wolf card in the witches oracle deck, which is so funny because I got that saying, "a wolf in sheep's clothing" in my head. And, I think this might be that there are two groups of you. So, I'll try to be as clear as possible. The first is that this is someone who may come off one way, but is actually another. This person is good though. I don't think they meant to come off the first way, and it could very well be an assumption on your part. We all do that sometimes. The other group is dealing with someone who, again, is coming off one way but is another. This one is not so good. I don't get horrible vibes, though. I just get that they're not as good as the person the other group is dealing with. This person I think is a test in your believes and your self-worth. Well, I think they both are, but one is karmic and is here to teach you to love yourself and to put yourself first. The other (the “good” one), while they're here to teach you that, I think they're also here to learn it with you rather than just teach you. I also am thinking that you will know which group you’re in, even if it hasn't started for you yet? The wolf card in the witches oracle talks about trusting ones instinct. You got another card that literally tells you to follow your gut, so that part where I said you will know which group your apart of? Yeah. You will. If you don't and you're in a situation that may be similar to this, then maybe this isn't really your pile and maybe you're meant to come back to this at a later date? Oh. Ear is ringing, so yeah. If you're reading this and are unclear about what it is, either come back another day/time, or check out another pile for now. If you do know, then please stay lol. Another card that suggests, to me, that you know what's going on, is trust. It talks about trusting oneself and the process one is going through. Divine timing wanted to come out but, I put it back because it was a part of a chunk of cards, so I was like if it needed to work its way out, it would. And, it did in a way. This Trust card suggests it to me. So, if this is a connection and you're feeling impatient, you're meant to trust this process and try to be patient about it. Whether that is about getting away from this person (if you are part of the group where they’re not so great), or things moving forward with them (if they are “good”). Everyone's a Teacher talks about learning things from everyone you meet. This reinforces the idea to me that this this person was put into your life to teach you something, and I think one of those things is learning how to trust your intuition. Another is loving yourself and knowing you're enough. The "being enough" card says just that, that you are enough. "You are enough. Nowhere to go, nothing to get, nothing to change. No need to grow more deserving. You, yes you, are Love." So for the group of you that this person is teaching you about self worth in a more deceptive way, I think this message pertains to you more. I think you need to know that. Also, "you are a product of what you believe" is telling you this too. It even talks about how if you think you're a turd, you're going to think you're a turd. So, please don't think you're a turd!!! Gross!!! You are not gross!!! And if this person makes you think that, then kick em to the curb! You can do that and still learn this lesson! You're already enough, anyway. I know it says you don't need to grow or be more, but I think it's like. You're already whole as you are, right? It's just this is a lesson that is teaching you that you need to love yourself, and so you're growing while...being told you don't need to, so its a little confusing, but its good! Journey also confirms that these are lessons! I think with Bravery, it's talking about how you're going to get more confident with this self-love you're starting to feel (for the first time or again). I think it's also going hand in hand with Vitality, like you're feeling more confident to do new things? I got vitality for the last pile, and I read that more as them being grateful. I think you are going to be feeling more grateful soon, but I also think this time it's more that maybe you're lacking energy and maybe this person either is taking it away (the wolf version), or they're restoring it (the sunny, not a wolf version lol). But, overall, for all of you this situation is going to end with something good. Whether it's that they leave your life or they stay there and add to it, something good is coming. Good things to come tells me this and I think this is just a sign that there are good things coming, but you're not meant to know what they are quite yet -which was what I got for pile 1, so some of you may want to check that one out if you were torn between the two. I do also think that this pile is learning how to ask for help when needed (another message from pile 1!)? So, even if you know in your gut if this person is for you or not, I think it doesn't hurt to get other people's advice. I just wouldn't let their advice go straight to your head and become the end-all be-all. I would take it into consideration and if your gut is saying, "yes, that is right" then, yeah! Listen to them! But if not...? Just, keep it in mind but don't take it to heart. I think this card may apply more to some of you who are having issues with finances, like those who relate to the 9 of pentacles and the devil kind of working as you having issues with overspending (because I think while this devil is another person, I also see it as a whole situation too). So, if you need help with that, it doesn't hurt to ask. I just wouldn't ask this devil person if they're not who they say they are and you know it's not the best thing for you. Gosh, I hope this is helpful and that it makes sense? I think there is a lot going on for this group, but it mostly is a situation with someone else. I want everyone to be safe, remember to keep boundaries. Follow your gut, but be safe in the process. And, remember, no matter what comes from this, you are enough! A song that got stuck in my head while doing this pile was Selfless by The Strokes. It’s a song I don’t listen to often, though I’d say it is one of my favorites by them, so it felt significant for you! Pile 3:

cards: 9 of pentacles, 8 of swords, judgement, self-sufficiency, power, get centered, beauty, forgiveness, showing up, unicorn voice, all hallows eve, banshee "Maybe you just need to shake your booty?" "Grab your own booty." "Go outside and do shit" I think some of you who picked this pile are worried you're not doing things right. Or that you're not on the right path, but you definitely are. Judgement is here to tell me that. It also tells me that there are some things that might show up from your past (like lessons) that need to be revisited, but again, this is all on your path, okay? 9 of pentacles tells me that some of you are already stable within yourself, whereas others of you are almost there. Like, literally just an arms reach away - like in the card how she’s reaching. The 8 of swords tells me you are a very logical person. I think you're in your head a lot and I think you have the tendency to overthink. This could be why you're wondering if you're on the right path, but again: you are! Again, I said that some of you are already stable within yourself, or are an arms reach away from this. By this, I mean independent. Self-sufficient. And right after I said that, the Self-sufficiency card came out for you! For some, this is a reminder that you are whole (a theme throughout all 3 piles today). For others, this is a reminder that this is where you're headed, and not to worry (another theme!!). You will get there in your own time. This card talks about relying on God, and I personally am not super religious. I consider myself somewhat spiritual, but not religious, so I'm not reading it this way. However, if this is how you want to read it, it still applies! I just think, over all, this is telling you that you're strong and reliable and when you rely on yourself, it's okay because again, you're reliable. I don't think it means to only rely on yourself, but I think it means to make sure you do when you need to. Like, you're capable of taking care of yourself and others. So, judgement and banshee paired together seem pretty powerful to me. I hate that I pull banshee for one pile every time I pull out these cards, but clearly I need to tell you this as a warning. For some this is about not allowing yourself to overthink things. That's a dangerous cycle to get stuck in. However, while it's a warning, I also see it to mean that this is a cycle that is coming to a close because it talks about endings and new beginnings. "Go outside and do shit" is just telling me that this is maybe one way for you to end this cycle. Like, to get grounded (get centered was one of your cards!), and sometimes the best way is to go outside (if it's possible where you live, it’s only just warming up here), if not just do something related to nature. Or, anything that you know/think will ground you. I think this will get you out of that 8 of swords energy, or help relieve it. Forgiveness, also, is something to think about. Banshee wanted to come out reversed, but it did so sideways, so its only for a handful of you. That handful of you are angry, and I do wonder if this independent energy you're in is your form of revenge? Either way, it's a warning to make sure you're not being vengeful. I think with power, and forgiveness, it's telling you that you're really powerful as a person and this can hurt people when used wrongly. You're being asked to forgive those who did you wrong, and to forgive yourself in the process as well. I do want to say, however, that forgiving someone does not give them the right to be in your life, however. If this is someone who you let go of because their actions/words were harmful to you, don’t just accept them back in because you forgive them. That being said, you're being asked to see your power. See that you have everything you need within you. Two of the Spiritual AF cards talk about butts, so I think you probably have a great ass so, ya know, feel good about that. But in general, I think you're a really good looking group. I mean, those paired with beauty!? And 9 of pentacles!? You're probably really beautiful! I mean, we all are, but I bet you're like STUNNING. And that independent energy, I think, is actually really drawing people in. I think this is telling you to stay true to yourself and your beliefs, and not to let anyone change you. And if this is something that happened to you in the past, forgive and let go. All Hallow's Eve, unicorn voice, beauty, power and showing up (even "grab your own butt. Love yourself") are all about self-love and loving yourself for who you are. There is a strong self-love theme throughout all the piles, but this one had the strongest. I think you're well on your way to getting there (for some, you already have a healthy dose of it), but it doesn't mean that you're not always feeling it. So, I think this is just a reminder that you're The Shit and that you're powerful and perfect just the way you are. And, I think if you're having issues seeing things this way, or having issues letting go of control (like, maybe a workaholic, I could see that for some of you), I think you're in need of shaking your ass like the "maybe you just need to shake your booty?" card suggests. It says that if you can stop taking yourself so seriously, then things can lighten up, so for some of you, you are being told to lighten up but to also remember you're the shit too. Also, a side note to say that showing up is also a card that talks about being present, but also being able to "show up" for yourself, even if that means giving yourself a few minutes to work on a project/hobby a day. Or just doing something you love. You're showing up for yourself that way, and it's important to remember that. Especially for my workaholics (I'm definitely included in that message lol). If you were drawn to any of the other piles, but this one won over the others, I really need to let you know that there are messages in the other two for you if you felt drawn to the others. I mean, even if you weren't there may be messages within them for you, but this is especially for those drawn to more than one pile. I think that this is a standalone that could go with either of the other piles to be honest. This one I think was the shortest of the 3, but it was a pretty quick one because everything tied in so nicely. So, remember, love yourself because you're the shit and that you're on the right path right now. You're self-sufficient and badass and even though you may need to keep yourself in check (please forgive and let go if at all possible!), you're still the shit! For a song for you, I got Okay by Chase Atlantic, and in my notes there’s just a “???” next to it because I’m not sure why this felt significant, but I had to write down that it came on while reading for you. Maybe you’re a Chase Atlantic fan or something, but that’s your pile’s song!

#pick a pile #pick a card #tarot #pick a picture

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

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One Night🌙5

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (to be warned later in series)

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: One night changes your entire life.

for @kittykatlow‘s 200 Follower Celebration

Note: Sorry there’s no Eye of the Storm for today. I’m currently going through physical and emotional hell but I hope you don’t mind some Andy Barber.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

You went to bed angry. You were always warned against it and you always learned your lessons the hard way. Hence, your current predicament and that stabbing just above your eye brow.

You got up slowly. You groaned and grumbled as you forced yourself to your feet. It was early and you had a shift at the diner. You never thought you'd be eager to be in your greasy apron but it was better than the alternative.

The night before, you'd spent a few minutes looking around the bedroom. There was an attached bathroom and you were thankful for that as you'd awoke once to relieve yourself before stumbling back to bed.

You pushed through the half-open door and pulled your night shirt over your head. You stretched and reached to start the shower. There was a hand towel hanging from the ring above the sink but nothing else. You went to the closet but upon opening the door, you were surprised to find another bedroom on the other side.

You swore and slammed the door before Andy could look up from his tie. You searched the handle for a lock and clicked it into place. God damn it! What kind of house was set up like that?

You heard his bedroom door in the hall and he knocked on your own. You scrambled to pick up your night gown and pull it back on as the hinges whispered and he appeared at the bathroom door. He looked confused as he crossed his arms.

"What was all that about?" He asked.

"I needed a towel," You huffed. "And I thought it was... a closet."

"Ah, linen closet's right next to my room." He explained. "I never really liked the layout but Laurie... I'll get you a towel."

You nodded and he left you. He returned with a dark blue towel and offered it to you. You took it and he reluctantly let it go. His gaze never left you; sombre and serious.

"Did you decide?" He asked.

"I'll tell Saul today," You said. "Is that acceptable?"

He sighed and sniffed.

"Call me." He said. "Doesn't matter when, I'll pick up. You let me know when your next appointment is."

"Okay," You resigned. "So, can I shower or...?"

"I gotta head out," He tucked his hand in his pants pocket. "I'll leave your breakfast on the counter."

"I can take care of myself." You insisted.

"Yeah, you keep saying that," He gave a sarcastic smirk. "What time are you done?"

"Seven," You answered dully. "I'll be home before curfew, dad."

He rolled his eyes and backed away.

"Well, won't be long till I am," He countered. "Isn't that right, mommy?"

He left you, the door closing with a snap. You listened as he went back to his own room and left shortly after, his footsteps fading down the stairs.

You set the towel down on the toilet lid and felt the warmth of the shower’s spray with your fingertips. You'd thought living with your mom was hard. Now you almost missed it.

🌙

You felt like you had a secret victory. While you'd given up the job that had seen you through the last decade, your job at the cafe was starting to look more promising. Many of your co-workers were college students and handed off shifts quite often.

By the time you left the diner, dispirited as you were after the last few days' events, you had picked up two half-shifts for the next week. Another and you'd have more than thirty hours away from Andy and his suburban prison.

It was short-won as you found a bitterly familiar car waiting by the curb as you walked out of work. Andy sat in the front seat, his hand leaned against the steering wheel as he squinted at the glowing screen of his phone. You were tempted to ignore him and catch the bus instead but you didn't want another night of arguing. You just wanted to be home. You could hide in the guest room and try to forget. Well, as much as you could.

You knocked on the window and he looked over. He gave you his usual disapproving look and unlocked the doors with the flip of a switch. He tucked his phone away and turned the engine as you climbed in.

"I messaged." He said as he peered out into traffic. "Why didn't you answer?"

"I haven't checked my phone," You frowned. "Sorry."

"I told you to call me." He pulled out and his knuckles whitened as his grip tightened on the wheel. "You make your appointment?"

"Monday," You muttered. Only three days away. "Ten thirty."

"I can make it work," He said. "You wanna grab some dinner? It's a bit late to cook."

"You gonna spoon feed again?" You challenged.

"Only if you make me," He said. "I want a copy of your schedule. Every week. I need to know when you're working and not."

"You're not serious?" You scoffed.

"I think I have a right to know. And look, we're having a kid and we should learn to get along before it gets here." He glanced at you in the rearview. "It wasn't so hard that night in the bar."

"Andy, forget that night," You breathed.

"I can't." His voice was low, dusky. "Even if... if I hadn't run into you again, I'd still be thinking about it."

"Don't do this," You begged.

"I love-- Loved my wife," He continued. "But it was never like that. Never that--"

"Stop," You interrupted. "Andy, I get it, well, I can't really understand what you're going through but you're grieving your family. It's confusing, scary, but you can't expect me to fill that hole. It was a one night stand. As far as I know those are suppose to end the morning after, at latest."

He was silent as he pulled into the drive through of a local burger joint. You'd been to the place once, they had great potato wedges but charged a bit much for limited portions. He stopped at the speaker and turned to you.

"What do you want?" He asked.

"Chicken burger, extra mayo, side of wedges," You craned to read the menu around him. "And an iced tea?"

"That's a lot of sugar. You should have a water for now and I have some stuff at home."

"Why did you even-- fine," You relented. "Water is fine."

Andy ordered and idled between the windows as he waited for the food. When it was his turn at last, he drew up and paid. He took the paper bag and the tray of drinks and handed it to you. He tipped, well, and thanked the server before pulling away.

"You don't understand. You're right." He said stiffly. "You can't but you can at least try. A baby... do you know what that means to me? Especially now, after everything. I never really put much faith in God but it feels like... a sign."

You lowered your head and shifted the paper bag on your leg as its warmth seeped through your pants. You felt bad. You were so concerned with what you were going to do, you hadn't really thought about him or his feelings. Sure, he was bossy, angry, but could you blame him? After a tragedy so uncontrollable how could you not be desperate for an ounce of control?

"Thank you," You said quietly. "For buying me dinner. For... letting me stay with you."

"You don't have to thank me for that. Decent people do those things." He stared at the road grimly. "I'm... sorry I've been so angry."

"It's alright. I haven't really been easy to deal with." You chuckled darkly. "I'd blame the hormones but I think it's just me."

"No, it's not," He turned down his street. "I'll be home late tomorrow night. There's lots of food in the fridge. You working?"

"Closing." You answered. "I'll be late too."

He nodded as he pulled into his driveway.

"Alright," He killed the engine. "I still want that schedule. It'll make things a lot easier."

You wanted to slap yourself. He came around as you managed to open your door and took the bag from you as he left you the tray of drinks. You followed him to the door, shaking your head at your own idiocy. He might be decent but it didn't make him any less overbearing.

🌙

Your days continued on a tightrope. You did your best to balance between Andy's irritability and your own misery. He might have apologized but there was something about the man that just kept you on edge.

And it was difficult to adjust to living with a man that was barely more than a strangers. To live in the shell of his former life. Even when you were alone, you stayed in the guest room, kept to yourself. It felt wrong to be there.

When Monday came, you woke to ready for your appointment. You dressed and went downstairs to find Andy awake and put together as always. The smell of his coffee made your mouth water.

"Any left in the pot?" You asked.

He shook his head as he blew the steam away from the rim.

"You can't have coffee. Too much caffeine." He said. "I'll buy you some decaf if you want. There's a gourmet place in the market."

"Don't worry about it," You grumbled. "I'll just have some orange juice."

"And some fruit, toast, yogurt..." He began as he set his mug down. "You should start writing down your meals. Keep track. You don't want to undereat." He opened the fridge and pulled out a basket of blueberries and a tub of yogurt. "We should also look into some supplements for you. Iron, probably."

He grabbed a bowl and measured out the yogurt and then rinsed some berries to go on top. He slid the bowl across the island and put everything back in the fridge. He grabbed the loaf from the breadbox and shoved two slices in the toaster.

"They should be able to let us know what after today," He continued. "I was reading up. They're gonna take some blood, probably some urine, and you might even have an ultrasound."

"Reading?" You narrowed your eyes. "Did you do all this with... before?"

He pressed his lips together and cracked his neck.

"I was younger then. Naive," He said. "Nine months is a long time. A lot can go wrong."

You were quiet. You scooped yogurt into your mouth and tried not to scowl. You didn't need to walk into the doctor's in a mood. The whole thing was stressful enough.

He finished making your toast and offered you peanut butter. You took butter and accepted the dry dark rye. He tapped his fingers on the counter and reached for a book on the end. He slid it over and flipped it open just as you read the title; 'What to Expect When You're Expecting'. You wanted to laugh. You chewed instead.

"That's your research?" You asked.

"You should read it," He said without looking up, crossing his arms atop the counter as he bent over it. "You'd learn a lot."

"Oh yeah?" You swallowed. "I'll see if I can fit it on my reading list."

"Huh," He looked up at last. "I saw that you had quite a few hours next week. Thirty-three."

"You said I couldn't work two jobs," You shrugged. "So I have one."

"I thought we were getting somewhere," He stood straight. "I really did."

"What else am I supposed to do? I can't just sit around and wait for the baby."

"You can," He snapped and rubbed his beard, feeling the bristle of his beard. "Jesus, I just-- I'm trying to do what's right."

"For you? Me? The baby?" You wondered.

"For us," He said pointedly.

"Us?" You echoed and set down the last crust. "What do you think is going to happen when the baby is here?"

His brows crinkled and took a breath.

"Well, I hope to have the nursery set up by then. Some clothes ready. No surprises, we'll need to know the sex so that we're ready." He slowly smiled as he spoke. "And maybe a pump for you, just in case. And I can take some days off to help out. It can be exhausting--"

"Andy!" You spat. "Andy, do you think-- do you think I'm going to stay here... forever?"

"You gonna pop this thing out and just go?" He asked.

"I never said I'd stay. Why would I--?"

"Because we're gonna be parents. Together." He hissed. "Because I won't have my child bouncing back and forth like volleyball."

"I'm not doing that." You said. "No, I'm not--" You stood and rounded the counter. "I'll find my own way to the appointment. There's no reason you need to be there."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa" He stepped in front of you and blocked you. "I wasn't asking."

"You can't make me--"

"I can do whatever I want," His voice grew deeper as he backed you against the island. "I can tell the police you abandoned your child. I can sue you for support. I can have you arrested for neglect."

"Prove it," You snarled.

"Won't be hard. I got buddies in the PD. I don't even have to plant the evidence," He smirked. "I just gotta give them the go ahead."

"No," You tried to push past him and he grabbed your sides, pushing you back against the counter.

"Let me tell you something, sweetheart," He leaned in to whispered in your ear. "You're gonna do a lot of things you think you don't wanna do."

His hand slipped to your hip and you caught his wrist, grasping his chunky watched. He stood straight and looked down at you nonchalantly.

"You're right," He wrenched his arm away and looked at his watch. "We're gonna be late."

#andy barber #dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #dark andy barber x reader #dark!andy barber x reader #fic #series #one night #dark fic #dark!fic #defending jacob

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justatiredpotato · 4 years

Text

Set Me Free | Chapter 4

Chapter List

Pairing: hybrid!Yoongi x human!reader

Genre: Angst, fluff, coffee shop AU, hybrid AU

Word Count: Chapter: 5,000~ Total: 40,000~

Updates daily at 10pm MST

Warnings: anxiety, panic attacks, implied abuse and sexual exploitation

Summary: Yoongi, a cat hybrid, has been hurt time and time again by a world that would have him believe he’s worthless. One day he finds himself in your protective care, and gets a new family to boot. But is it really that easy to escape the past and embrace a new beginning?

Author’s Note: In this fic the reader’s name is Yeoji

You woke up the next morning delightfully warm. You shifted to tuck your nose back under the edge of the blanket, but found you were curling into someone’s back instead. Startled, you pushed yourself up on one elbow and blinked at the figure tucked against you. Your arm was wrapped around Yoongi’s waist, legs tangled together. You blushed and quickly detached yourself from him. He let out an almost childlike whimper and turned to try and pull you close again, but you tucked the blankets around him and moved out of his reach. How could you invade his space like that? You must’ve drank too much.

The air was cold even through your sweats as you climbed out of bed. It was still early morning. You never slept soundly when you drank. Figuring you wouldn’t be getting much more rest if you tried to go back to sleep, you started getting ready for the day. You quietly pulled out a simple fitted black dress and a baggy cardigan, creeping into the bathroom to slip them on over a pair of knit tights. After grabbing your work shoes you exited the bedroom, closing the door as quietly as you could so as not to wake a still sleeping Yoongi. The shop opened in about two hours, so you figured you could get some of the office work done before then.

You settled on the couch with your laptop and a notebook that held your accounts information, spending about a half hour making sure everything was balanced properly. You decided to spend the rest of the time reviewing your inventory and preparing the order for your supplier that month. As you stood to move to the kitchen, the bedroom door creaked open. A bleary-eyed Yoongi emerged, hair sticking up in all directions, partially obscuring his ears.

“Where’d you go?” he croaked, voice hoarse from crying the evening before. “Why didn’t you stay?” His eyes widened as he took you in, already in your work attire.

“Am I late?” he asked, suddenly awake.

“No! No, you’re off today.”

“Really? Why? I can work,” he said, almost sounding hurt.

“I have Jimin coming in today, don’t worry. Why don’t you work on your music today?”

He nodded, pondering. He seemed to acknowledge that it would be nice having some time to himself after yesterday's incident. You didn’t mention the fact that you were trying to hold off a bit longer before introducing him to the other boys. They were a bit energetic for Yoongi at the moment. You feared that Jimin’s affectionate nature would stress him out.

“Okay, well call me if it gets crowded. I can get ready and come out,” he eventually said.

“Thanks.” You smiled, walking over to ruffle his hair. “But don’t worry, this is my job.”

He mumbled some kind of acknowledgement, ducking his head but also pushing into your hand so you scratched his ears some more.

“Are you coming back here for lunch?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’ll eat with you. I usually go at two, can you wait that long?” He nodded. “Alright, I’ll be back then.” You turned and headed out front as he grabbed his bag and the bundle of papers you’d salvaged.

“Ah!” you exclaimed, turning on your heel. He jumped, looking at you questioningly. You hurried over to the bookshelf and pulled a notebook off of it. “Use this,” you offered, holding it out to Yoongi.

“Thanks,” he said, flipping through it and giving you a gummy grin. You suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to curl up next to him and ask him about his music. It felt like an actual tug at your heart, wanting to know the thoughts and feelings that he’d put to paper. You pushed the thought away, pulling your laptop closer to your chest.

“You’re welcome,” you said, turning to continue your way out front.

You went over inventory, finishing up about a half hour before opening. The order could be written up that night or the next morning so it could go out on Friday. You put your laptop aside and went out to the counter, making your regular coffee and Yoongi’s. You also made breakfast for the two of you.

He glanced up when you entered the room. He hadn’t moved from his spot on the couch. He flashed a smile, pulling one side of his headphones off his ear.

“Thanks!” he said, already going for a sip of his coffee.

“You’re welcome. I’ll see you at lunch,” you said, already turning to leave.

“You aren’t staying for breakfast?” he asked a little sadly.

“I have to go let Jimin in and open,” you answered over your shoulder. “But it’ll be lunchtime soon. And maybe you can show me some of your music after I finish up tonight?” you asked hopefully.

“Sure,” he replied, running a hand through his hair and smoothing over his ears.

Jimin was already waiting outside when you returned to the cafe. He waved cheerfully as you jogged to unlock the door for him.

“Noona!” He tumbled into your arms as soon as the door was open. You laughed, squeezing him tight and rocking side-to-side with the hug.

“How’s my Chim Chim this morning?” you asked, burying your face in his hair as he held you. To anyone else you might’ve looked like a couple, but Jimin just really liked holding people and being held, always had. It seemed to help him heal when he first arrived at Jin’s shelter, and you had been one of the first people he grew close to.

“I’m good, I missed you though!” he answered, finally pulling away a little. “You spent the whole weekend with your new kitty friend!” he pouted.

“We had a few things to do so he could settle in.” You laughed at his obvious jealousy. As excited as he was about another cat hybrid in the family, you knew he’d be jealous too.

“Is that why you smell like him? Because it smells like you’ve been all over each other,” he said, raising an eyebrow at you. You chuckled awkwardly pushing him away and rolling your eyes.

“We’re staying in the same tiny two room apartment. And I gave him my bed the first day, so that’s probably why.”

Jimin nodded dubiously, slipping past you and inside. He headed to the kitchen to put his backpack away while you locked the door so you could finish preparing for the day. Jimin took down the chairs and straightened the tables while you made him a coffee.

“You hungry?” you asked as you put the finishing touch on his mocha.

“Nah, I ate with Tae before I left.” He came back to the counter, accepted the beverage gratefully and took a sip.

“How’s he doing at the shelter?” you asked as you straightened cups and checked the register.

“He seems to like it. There are… hard parts of the job. But I can tell he feels good about helping people like he is there.” A sad smile flickered over his face. “He’s really strong, you know? Staying there, seeing all those things.”

You put an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “You know there’s nothing wrong with you choosing to do something else? Not everyone is suited to a job like that,” you said gently. “I don’t think I could do it.”

“But you are doing it!” he said confidently. “With your new kitty friend. You’re totally helping him!”

You laughed, releasing him to go unlock the door. “He’s not ‘my new kitty friend.’ His name is Yoongi. Yoongi-hyung, to you,” you scolded. There was no real firmness in your tone though.

“Another hyung?” Jimin whined. “Man, I wanted someone to boss aro- I mean take care of.” He seemed pleased with his joke.

“Chim,” you turned your best older-sister-look on him. “Play nice.”

He pouted again. “I’m always nice!” he argued, but you could hear the barely-suppressed giggle in his voice. “When can I meet him?”

“I’m not sure yet. Whenever he’s ready, I guess.”

Jimin nodded understandingly.

The morning passed relatively slowly. The festival only made things slightly more busy than any other Wednesday. Around one, you ran back to your house to make Jimin lunch and brought it back out front for him. You made him eat in the kitchen. He complained, but you explained that Yoongi was working back in your apartment and you didn’t want to interrupt him.

You slipped away for your own lunch a little after two. Jimin was clearly miffed that you were allowed to disrupt Yoongi’s work. But the sulking you’d have to endure was all worth it when Yoongi’s face lit up at your arrival. He already had stuff out to make sandwiches, slicing up tomatoes and cheese.

“I’m not a great cook, but I figured I could make this for you,” he said sheepishly, gesturing to the sandwich that was already made on the counter next to him. You grinned, running over to wrap him in a side-hug. Once he finished his sandwich you settled at the table to eat. Your break seemed to be gone in a blink as you chatted about what Yoongi had been working on (he said it was a secret), and you told him about your latest dumb customer (this Karen who’d come in demanding a fat-free breve, claiming she got one at Barstucks all the time). His laugh gave you this fluttering in your stomach, leaving a warm and cozy feeling that you chose not to read into.

You glanced up at the clock, cursing under your breath. You stood quickly, the chair scraping a bit on the floor. You’d taken an extra 15 minutes.

“I’ve gotta go, Yoongi,” you said, already heading for the door. He hurried after you, catching your sleeve and wrapping you in a quick hug, so light you barely processed it had happened.

“I’ll show you some of my lyrics tonight,” he said. He waved you off as if you weren’t just going out to the front part of the building. You waved back, chuckling at the silliness of it.

When you returned to the front counter, Jimin fixed you with a questioning look, eyes sharp.

“Yeah, he’s totally not glued to you,” he said with a sniff. He rolled his eyes, laughing as he no doubt smelled Yoongi on your sweater from the hug a moment before. “You’re so whipped.”

You grumbled but didn’t argue, knowing he would only take a stronger denial as confirmation. You weren’t trying to have him give the other boys the wrong idea. You would never take advantage of Yoongi by trying anything with him. A customer mercifully pulled you from your ethical quandaries about relationships with dependent hybrids.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

By the time the last customer left and you and Jimin started cleaning up, you were eager to go check on Yoongi.

“You can go, Noona. I’ll finish up here,” Jimin offered.

“What? Why? I can help you finish up.”

“Just go see him. I’m sure he’s been waiting for you since the second you left anyway.” He snickered, eyes scrunching up with his smile.

You blushed, cursing hybrid noses and their ability to see right through people. You turned your back on him, energetically scrubbing at the counter. “Don’t be silly. If anything he’s waiting for dinner.”

“Well then you better not keep him waiting. Jin-hyung said he’s way skinny,” Jimin said.

You turned back to him, brows raised. “Jin told you about Yoongi?”

“Just a little. He said we should all help you so he can get better.” Jimin was already at your back, gently guiding you toward the kitchen. He pushed you through the door, toward your apartment. “Go take care of your boyfriend. I’ll lock up before I go.”

The kitchen door thudded shut behind you as he went back to cleaning up. If your face wasn’t red before it certainly was now. You took a second, hoping the embarrassment would fade along with the color in your cheeks, before continuing into the apartment. You were certainly surprised by what greeted you.

“Yoongi…?” you called, noting the set table with a couple dishes of food already on it. You started toward the kitchen just as Yoongi’s head popped up from behind the island, making you jump.

“You’re back!” He smiled nervously at you, a couple of glasses in his hand.

“What’s all this?” You reached the table and looked over the spread: spaghetti with meatballs, garlic bread, and a shockingly pretty salad.

“Ah, this?” he said, as if you might be talking about something else. “I just figured that since you were working all day I could do something around the house. I cleaned a bit, but I thought it might be nice if you didn’t have to make dinner. I hope that’s okay.”

“Okay? This is amazing!” You passed the table in favor of going and wrapping Yoongi in a tight hug. “I haven’t had someone make dinner for me in a long time! If I ever let Namjoon cook he’d burn down the house.” You felt Yoongi’s chuckle rumble in his chest, a faint rumble of a purr already starting as well.

“Well, I didn’t burn anything. I just hope it tastes alright.” He pulled away and led you over to the table. “I tried to do it just like the video, so I think it isn’t bad.”

“I’m sure it’s delicious!” You took your seat and watched as Yoongi returned to the kitchen for the glasses he’d been getting.

“The guy on Viewtube said wine goes with this. Does that sound good?”

“Sure! Whatever the chef recommends.” You eyed the food, and noted that Yoongi had even put on music in the background. Soft piano music played from his laptop on the counter. Yoongi grabbed the bottle of wine out of the fridge—which happened to be the only wine you had—and joined you at the table. He removed the cork and poured you each a glass, which you smiled and took.

You weren’t a big wine fan in all honesty. The bottle was just the remainder of a bottle Jimin had brought over a while ago. But you took a sip anyway, wanting to cooperate with what he’d prepared. Yoongi took the plate in front of you and started to serve the food, but you reached out to stop him.

“You don’t have to, I can get it myself,” you said.

“It’s okay, I want to do it.” His gummy smile made you sit back down. You smiled as he spun the pasta, something he must’ve picked up from the Viewtube tutorial. He set your plate in front of you with a hint of a proud smile, then made a plate for himself.

You glanced at him to find he was watching expectantly, clearly wanting to see your reaction. So you spun your noodles and took a bite. Your eyebrows rose as you looked at him, chewing for a moment.

“Edible?” he asked.

“Very edible. Delicious actually!”

He beamed at the praise, taking a bit himself. He gave a thoughtful hum, considering for a moment. “Not bad. I think the sauce should be thicker though? The guy in the video’s sauce was definitely thicker.”

“Maybe you can tweak the recipe a bit to get it just how you like it.” You smiled at him encouragingly. “I think you have real talent for this, Yoon.”

“Thanks, noona. Maybe I’ll try something new my next day off.”

“That sounds great. I appreciate this so much, truly.” You ate in pleasant silence for a moment before a thought struck you. “Did you get to work on your music today? I hope you didn’t just do housework.”

“Yeah, I got some stuff done. I can show you some tracks I’ve made after dinner, if you’re interested.”

“I would love that!”

“Actually… This is something I made.”

You blinked at him, not quite getting it. “This?”

“Yeah, the piano music. It’s all my stuff.” He nodded towards his beat up laptop, still playing soft melodies from the counter.

“All these songs have been yours?”

He nodded, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah. I mean, none of them are finished or anything. I don’t really have the tools I need to make a polished track. These ones don’t even have lyrics yet. And I don’t know any vocalists to do the melody. But I thought they would be good enough for backgr-”

“Yoongi.” You interrupted his ramble. “They’re beautiful. All of them. I had no idea you wrote stuff like this.”

The way you looked at him, truly amazed, made him shift in his seat. He didn’t know what to do with a compliment to his work, which was so dear to him. He cleared his throat before he spoke, not wanting to sound too... He didn’t even know what. “Thanks,” he finally said before quickly returning to his meal.

Once you’d both finished dinner you helped him clear the table and do the dishes. As you put the last plate in the cupboard you glanced at him expectantly. He snorted, grabbing his laptop and heading to the living room. You smiled and hurried after him. He opened his laptop, and seemed to steel himself, before turning to you.

“Now remember, these aren’t finished or polished or anything. I don’t have the tools or the skill to really make these good so don’t-”

“Yoongi,” you whined. “Stop selling yourself short. I’ve heard you perform. You’re really talented. And the songs you played during dinner? Amazing. So stop dissing yourself!”

Yoongi’s serious expression turned into a smirk. “Dissing myself?” The smirk turned into a grin, and you couldn’t help but start laughing. Any nerves he felt about showing you his work faded into the background as he laughed with you. Once you caught your breath, he played the first song he wanted to show you. You bopped along to a high energy club beat, then an intense diss track. Yoongi could spit rap so fast you almost couldn’t keep up, yet every word was clear. You glanced up at him as he focused on the computer screen, realizing how truly talented he was. A slightly slower tune with a driving beat behind it came on, something in the realm of a sexy slow-jam. Your eyebrows shot up, face heating along with the whole room as you listened. You weren’t expecting his lyrics to be so… bold.

The song ended and Yoongi clicked around a bit, glancing at you and noting your expression. “What did you think?” He was clearly nervous, but also proud of his work.

You smiled at him, trying to school your expression. If he noticed your flustered state, he was kind enough not to comment. “I would definitely dance to that. Or buy tickets to that concert.”

He grinned a gummy smile, a laugh escaping him. “I don’t think we’re anywhere near that yet. But I appreciate the thought.” He looked back at the screen, queuing up something else. “Okay, this one is a bit different than the other stuff. It’s not as… up as the other stuff. But I wanted to try writing something real. I don’t know if it’s any good, so tell me what you think.” He pressed play.

A soft piano melody began, and you quickly recognized it as something he’d played at dinner. But it quickly became clear this was a newer version of the piece as a base synth came in. After a moment of piano, Yoongi’s lyrics began. His voice was more familiar as the Yoongi you knew, not the cocky club persona from the other songs.

As you listened you felt your heart clench with every word. This wasn’t a song, it was a story. His story. He told you about moments, flashes of love and joy, broken and torn away by loss and violence. His voice strained, trying not to break as he told of greed and hate and finally, emptiness. When so much pain builds up that you are hollow. With nothing left to push you forward, you only need the tiniest push to send you over the edge and into oblivion.

You sat for a moment, looking at the coffee table in front of you but your mind was far away. Yoongi wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you looked up at him. His eyes were wide with worry.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, scanning your face before wiping at it with the sleeve of his sweater. You hadn’t realized you were crying. You didn’t answer him, instead you pulled him into a tight hug. He seemed to understand because he didn’t press you further. The two of you stayed like that for quite a while.

━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━◦○◦━

It was just you and Jimin again on Thursday. Business was picking up as the weekend approached, so you were kept busy with customers almost constantly throughout the day. At noon you ran back to check on Yoongi, but you didn’t even have time to take a real lunch.

Mid-afternoon there was a bit of a lull. You had just slipped back into the kitchen to take a breath and drink the coffee you’d made yourself when a customer out front caught your attention.

“Is your owner here?” the man asked. His voice wasn’t very deep, but his tone was imposing, almost threatening.

“I beg your pardon?” Jimin responded politely.

“Your owner. I want to speak to them.”

“You mean the shop owner?” The man must’ve nodded because Jimin called for you a second later. You came out of the kitchen and looked over the man in question.

He was average height, but stocky. The suit he wore was probably expensive, and you could see a fine gold chain peeking out of the unbuttoned collar of his shirt. You glanced up to meet his eye and were surprised to find a generally handsome face. A tattoo crept out from under his collar, under his jaw, and up behind his ear. He looked you over in return, mouth curving into a smile, but it had no warmth behind it. Actually, it almost sent a shudder through you.

“Are you the owner?” he asked.

“I am. How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for a lost hybrid. A client of mine mentioned she saw him here?”

You frowned, glancing at Jimin but making sure your unease didn’t cross your face. “A hybrid? I can’t think who you’d be talking about. Maybe he came in with a customer?”

“No, she said he was working here.” The man dug in his pocket and pulled out his phone. “This one, a cat. Name’s Suga, but he calls himself Yoongi sometimes,” he said, turning the phone to show you. The image you saw made your stomach drop. The photo was dimly lit by pink and purple neon lights, but you still easily recognized the boy in the photo. It was Yoongi, curled up on the floor against a couch. He was in just a thin t-shirt and underwear, obviously trying to avoid the camera. You schooled your expression before meeting the man's eyes again, feeling nauseous.

“I can’t say I’ve seen him. My friend here is a cat hybrid, so maybe she mistook him for this guy?” You glanced at Jimin, who nodded. He looked uncomfortable, probably sensing your anxiety.

The man sneered. “Believe me, she wouldn’t mistake this kid for any other kitty.”

You cringed internally but put on a polite, apologetic smile. “Well, I’m sorry we can’t be of more help.”

“Oh don’t worry. I’ll check in with the local patrol station. You know how the police have been cracking down on strays. When they find him they’ll get him right back to me.” You nodded tightly at him, still trying to keep a smile. “Let me know if you see him,” he said, pushing a business card across the counter to you. The name on it was Kwon Hyunjoong. You nodded and the man bid you farewell, You watched until he exited the shop and the door settled shut behind him.

You turned to Jimin. “Call Jin and Namjoon,” you said, already moving back to the apartment. You burst through the door, startling Yoongi from his place at the kitchen table. He pulled his headphones off and stood, walking to meet you by the door.

“Hey, what’s going on?” His brows were furrowed as he looked you over. “What’s wrong?” He placed his hands on your shoulders and that was when you realized you were shaking. You looked at him, panic in your eyes.

“There was a guy looking for you,” you blurted. You took a deep breath, but it ended up more of a sob. You couldn’t seem to catch your breath. “He had a picture of you. And he’s going to the police. He said they’ll find you and take you back to him and I said I hadn’t seen you but…”

Yoongi stopped you from saying any more, pulling you into his chest and stroking your hair.

“Woah, woah. Slow down,” he said. He was trying to sooth you but you could feel how he’d begun shaking as well, muscles tense as you clutched his shirt. “He doesn’t know I’m here right? And you said you hadn’t seen me.”

“That woman. That disgusting b**** told them she saw you. That you were working here. Yoongi, do they have papers? Can they take you? Oh god, even if they don’t I’m not sure what I can do. What if I can’t protect you? I promised I’d keep you safe and now I- I-” You dissolved into gasping sobs, imagining the police coming and dragging Yoongi out of your home. If they had evidence that they ‘owned’ him, or even had in the past, there’d be nothing you could do. Most of the police didn’t care, and you had no legal right to protect him. “I have to protect you,” you cried. You held him so tightly he winced a little, but he just held you closer.

Your sobs had quieted a bit and you were catching your breath when a knock came on the apartment door. Yoongi carefully disengaged from your arms and had you sit on the couch while he went to get the door. He glanced through the peep-hole before opening it to reveal Jin and Namjoon, along with Jungkook. Namjoon surveyed the older man, who was shaking, eyes puffy and watery. Then he glanced over Yoongi’s shoulder and spotted you curled up on the couch, trembling. He hurried past Yoongi and over to you, the others trailing behind him. You looked up at him as he crouched in front of you.

“Joon…” you whimpered weakly. He pulled you into his arms without a word. You started crying again, sobs renewed when you glanced up to see Jungkook with his arm around a terrified Yoongi. “You have to help me Joon. We have to keep him safe. We can’t let them take him.”

Namjoon glanced up at Jin, before gently pulling away from you. “Can you tell us what’s going on? Jimin only explained a little on the phone.” You nodded, sniffling and taking a shaky breath.

“Jungkook, why don’t you go help Jimin out front?” Jin said. The younger boy nodded, giving Yoongi’s shoulder one last squeeze before hurrying out to the cafe.

Yoongi came to join you and Namjoon on the couch, leaning close to you. Namjoon glanced at him and removed his arm from your shoulders, taking your hand instead. Yoongi quickly wrapped you in his arms, nuzzling into your neck in an attempt to soothe you. Jin sat in the armchair across from you. They waited patiently for you to gather yourself before you started talking. You told them the whole story.

“I don’t know how to keep him safe. Legally, I can’t do anything for you, Yoongi.” Your free hand came up to clutch at his arm, still wrapped tightly around you. “I can’t protect you without legal guardianship. You know how the police have been about so-called ‘strays’. Without papers, they’ll take you to a shelter and notify your previous owners. They’ll take you and I won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.” You released Namjoon’s hand, tears returning as you turned into Yoongi’s chest again and held him tightly.

“Well the easy solution would be to have her adopt you,” Jin said. He looked at Yoongi expectantly. That was the obvious solution, but you knew how Yoongi would feel about it. You felt him stiffen in your arms and you cried harder.

“Yoon, I know you don’t want an owner. And I don’t want to own you. But I can’t lose you. Please, please, I just want to keep you safe.” The room was silent as your pleas hung in the air for a moment.

Yoongi let out a shaky sigh. “Okay.” You froze, suddenly quiet except for the occasional hiccuping breath. “I trust you, noona,” he affirmed. “I… want you to adopt me.”

You pulled away to look him in the eye, scanning for hesitation. But as hard as those words must’ve been for him to say, you couldn’t see a trace of doubt on his face. He smiled softly at you and you smiled back, tears still falling.

“Thank you,” you choked out and he held you close again, burying his face in your hair. You turned to look at Jin. “When can I sign?”

“You got a computer and a printer?” he asked, already standing from his chair. Less than an hour later you were all seated at the table, papers printed and pens in hand. Jin had been able to pull up Yoongi’s records from the database online. Luckily, his former owners hadn’t bothered to keep the papers up-to-date since they first ‘acquired’ him years ago, so nothing was preventing you from adopting him. You signed, and Yoongi placed his fingerprint on the document.

“I’m going to run these to the registration office before they close. I’m signing as a reference, so luckily we can forego a background check or interviews as a first time owner,” Jin said, already standing and heading for the door. “Unfortunately, they’ll want you to have tags. But you only have to have them when you go out. They make earrings now too.”

“That’s what Jungkook and Tae have,” Namjoon added. “They’re actually pretty cool looking, for what it is.”

Yoongi nodded, clearly not thrilled with the idea of wearing a tag again. But when he saw the remorseful look on your face he smiled at you. “It’s okay, noona. Look, my ears are already pierced anyway.”

You looked and sure enough, he already had earrings: three on one side, two on the other. “We’ll get whichever one you want. Maybe we can find one that just looks like a regular earring,” you suggested hopefully.

#yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #suga fanfic #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #hybrid!au #cafe!au #hybrid!yoongi #yoongi x reader #min yoongi #suga #bts #bts suga #bts yoongi

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atlafan · 4 years

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Take it Slow - Part Fourteen

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(Smut if you squint. Fluffy fluff.)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen

Masterpost

You wake up to sunlight hitting your face, and Harry lightly snoring. His mouth was parted open, and he looked absolutely spent. You turned over to check your phone, and just scroll for a bit. Secretly hoping your eyes would become tired again. Harry turned over with you, pulling you to his chest. You adjust yourself, and you feel him press into you. He nuzzles into your hair, and his eyes flutter open. He groans at the light in the room, wishing he had remembered to pull the curtains before going to bed.

“My head is fucking killing me.” He says into your hair, pressing himself further into your butt.

“Jesus, good morning.” You say turning over to face him. “Are you ever not hard, Harry?” You coo, pressing your forehead to his.

“Waking up to you and that ass? Of course I’m hard.” He nuzzles into your neck. He kisses you, and just as he’s about to bite you, you wince. He brings his head up to look at you, and raises an eyebrow. “Somethin’ wrong?”

“No, it’s just, you tend to bite the same spot, and you like to bite really hard. Not that I’m complaining, I think it’s sexy. But, maybe you could bite me, on a different part of my neck. Maybe closer to my collar bone so I can hide it easier?”

“I’ve been hurting you, and you haven’t told me?”

“No, it doesn’t hurt. It feels really good, and I know you like to bite. You just tend to bite me in the same spot, and after a while it just feels raw. I need to let it heal a little. Baby, if I didn’t like it I would tell you.” He gives you a grin.

“What do you mean, you know I like to bite?” He asks, entangling his legs with yours.

“Well, it’s obvious. You bite my neck up and down, you nip at my chest, you love to bite my nipples, which again, I’m not complaining because it feels good, and then you also like to bite at my…area.”

“Your clit, I like to bite on your clit.” What is with him this morning? It’s far too early to make you listen to words like that.

“Yeah, there. It’s just something I noticed, it’s not a bad thing. I like it, a lot.”

“I didn’t realize I was doing it at the same spot, I can try to be more careful.”

“That would be ahhhh.”

Harry started to kiss on the skin right below your earlobe before you could finish speaking. His teeth sink into you, and he pulls you closer to his body. This was his way of releasing his frustration, it had to be. You felt like with each day maybe you’d try fingers but you just were too fucking scared. You were creating a problem before there even was one, but you couldn’t help it.

“Come shower with me.” He practically growls.

“Alright.” Was this Harry hungover? Even hornier than when he was drunk? You were used to him wanting you when you’d first wake up, but usually a growling stomach or something would distract you. He also was being a little more aggressive than usual. It didn’t scare you because he wasn’t going to physically hurt you, or force himself on you. Maybe he just wants to take back a little control. Maybe being together for two months has made him just more able to be himself.

You follow him into the bathroom, and he starts the water. He looks at himself in the mirror, inspecting his face.

“Needa shave today, I think.” He looks at you. “Take ya shirt off please.” You giggle and do as he says, revealing your full self to him. You had gotten more and more comfortable with this. He takes his boxers off, and tests the water. “Perfect, come on.” He puts his hand out to you, and helps you in.

You nuzzle your face into his chest as the warm water hits your back. You jolt up when you realize your hair is down. You reach for the elastic on your wrist, and quickly put your hair up.

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?”

“Whenever you shower here, you make sure your hair is up.”

“Oh, well, it’s just that I don’t typically bring more than like my face wash with me. I wash my hair on specific days, and if I’m not washing it I don’t want to get it wet. I don’t have a blow dryer here.”

“I have a blow dryer.” You’re not surprised.

“I don’t have my dryer brushes. You have to use a specific brush.”

“Why not leave some of those things here then? They must have travel sizes of your shampoo, or hell bring the regular size here. And bring a spare dryer brush too. I leave things for myself at your place, I want you to do the same here.” You could cry, you could absolutely sob. No guy you had ever been with had ever wanted leaving things of you around. “While you’re at it, you could even hang some things up in my closet. I don’t have much room in my dresser, otherwise I’d offer up a drawer. But my closet has room.”

“Harry, you’re so sweet, I’ll start leaving more of my things here.” You beam up at him.

“You do so much to make your place feel like home for me, I want this place to feel like home for you.”

That does it, that really does it. You feel tears welling up, and you wrap your arms around him, nearly making him lose his balance. He wraps his arms around you, and gives you a squeeze.

“Alright, alright. Let’s get ya cleaned up. I got my jizz all over ya last night.” He grabs a wash cloth and his body wash, and lathers it up. “If you bring your stuff here then you won’t have to smell like this anymore.” He laughs, washing your back.

“But I like smelling like that, it smells like you.”

“Jesus, now ya got me tearing up.” You both start laughing. You return the favor by washing his body, and you both get out. “Just gotta shave, love.” You walk out with your towel on you snug. You notice Harry’s phone go off on the night table. It’s Louis.

“Harry, Louis’ calling!”

“Could ya answer it for me please?” He yells back. You gulp, wow he is really trusting you.

“Hello, um, Harry’s phone.” You could slap yourself at how lame you sound.

“Mornin’, love. Where’s me mate.”

“Shavin’.”

“Ah, could ya bring the phone to the bathroom then? Put me on speaker?”

“Sure thing.” You walk back to the bathroom, and put the phone on speaker. “Harry, Louis is on speaker.”

“Alright, oi, mate you couldn’t wait?” He says, washing the rest of the shaving cream off his smooth face. He takes the phone from you, but leaves it on speaker. His towel is hanging really low on his waist and you can’t help but stare.

“Nah, felt like buggin’ ya. Wanna do an early lunch? 11:30?” Harry looks at you, and looks at the clock on the wall. It already ten. You give him a look, that says of course it’s okay. “Uh, yeah, that works.”

“Great, we can come pick you up, and then bring ya to you car later.”

“Sounds good.” Harry hangs up the phone. “I feel bad, I don’t want to leave you.”

“It’s okay, I want you to see your friends. I brought my laptop with me, so I can just get some work done while you’re gone.”

“You won’t mind being all alone for a few hours?”

“No, I like hanging out here.”

“You’re the best.”

Harry got picked up right at 11:30. You had put some yoga pants on, and a sports bra. You set your laptop up at his desk, and got caught up on some emails.

Harry, Louis, and Niall went to their favorite diner.

“Do you lads remember that time we had that rager at the apartment? And the cops came, but they sent a female cop, and we had to send Harry in to turn on the charm?” Louis started laughing hysterically.

“Yeah, expect she still wrote us a summons.” harry groaned.

“She wrote her number on it!” Niall also laughs hysterically. “Did you ever hook up with her?”

“Course I did. Called her that night.” He laughs too, then stops, thinking of you. “I don’t really want to talk about old hookups, if that’s alright.”

“Right, because you’re so in loooooove with (y/n).” Louis makes a kissy face at Harry.

“Stop it, I’m not in love with her…” Harry looks down at his food. “I’m definitely falling for her though. I can’t get enough of her, literally. I could want her at any second.”

“But can ya have her at any second?” Louis asks.

“Pretty much…it doesn’t take much to get her goin’.” Niall gives Harry an eye roll. “Sorry mate, sometimes I forget that you’re her friend too.”

“Oh yeah, you set the two of them up right?”

“Yup, and it’s fine. I know her and her friends talk about us like this too.”

“How are things with Sarah?” Harry asks.

“Still really good, although I think she’s hopin’ to know if I’m her boyfriend yet. I think next weekend I’m gonna take her out for a nice date so we can chat about it.”

“Look at the three of us, we all have ladies in our lives. And we can’t shut up about ‘em.” Louis scoffs.

“You haven’t mentioned Eleanor once today.” Harry says to Louis.

“Because I know it’ll just set you off, and I’m not lookin’ do that.”

“It wouldn’t set me off. I’m happy that you’re happy.”

“Yeah, but you hate that she makes me happy.”

“I just don’t appreciate a girl comin’ in and sayin’ you’re too close with your best mate. She basically said we couldn’t be friends anymore.”

“She never said that. If she didn’t want me havin’ friends, then how do you explain Niall?”

“God, leave me outta this one.”

“You know it’s different with him. Niall was fuckin’ just as many girls as I was, and yet I was the womanizing prick. All because he’s the blonde, innocent looking one, and I’m the one that looks rough around the edges.”

“That’s not it, we both have tattoos all over us.”

“So what was the threat then?” Louis and Niall look at each other. “Hello?”

“She, she thought something was goin’ on between us, okay?”

“What do you mean going on between us?”

“Well, she noticed your nail polish and all your jewelry, which we all think is great, doesn’t bother us one bit. In fact, I’d love for you to bring back the pearls. That was when your hair was a bit longer too.”

“So? A man can’t have long hair?”

“No, it was just, she thought maybe we were goin’ behind her back.” Niall takes a big sip of his coffee as he watches the boys finally have the conversation they’ve needed to have.

“She thought I was gay?”

“Or bisexual, or just like fluid or something, I don’t know. She thought the same of me.”

“Why would she think you and I were fuckin’?” Harry starts laughing.

“Because she felt like I would pay more attention to you when she’d come over, or that I’d make more time for you in general. Ugh, and then there was the day she found us in bed together.” Niall and Harry burst out laughing. “S’not funny she was mortified.”

“That was pretty funny. Didn’t we wake up spoonin’? We got piss drunk the night before and we crashed together, not a big deal.”

“I know that!”

“So what, she accepted the job offer two hours from here to keep you on lock? Trust me, if I wanted you, I’d have you.” Harry takes a sip of his coffee winking at his friend, while Louis scoffs. “Has she calmed down a bit since she knows I have a girlfriend?”

“She was on edge the second I left her side last night. She tried to be cool because we hadn’t seen each other in ages, but it was still hard for her. I’ve told her til I’m blue in the face that nothin’ ever happened between us, but she still suspects.”

“Why?”

“She found that picture of us in me scrapbook kissin’ under the mistletoe at our Christmas party senior year.”

Niall’s drink comes out his nose, and Harry laughs a big belly laugh.

“Why the fuck would you keep that?!” He says through tears.

“I don’t know! I was unpackin’ some shit one day and it fell out. I had completely forgotten it. Ever since then she’s been on red alert. I told it was just like a kiss between mates, you know, a drunken gag. It’s so frustratin’. She knows I love her, but she thinks I love your more.”

“And you don’t?” Harry asks playfully.

“You’re a cheeky bastard, you know that?”

“Look, do you want me to talk to her? Set her straight?”

“No, but we do want you to come visit us. I think she would feel more comfortable on a home turf.”

“Fine, I will find a weekend for us to come visit.”

“Us?”

“Well, of course I’d bring (y/n), clearly she’s my beard or something” harry scoffs. “Jesus, can’t even kiss my mate under the mistletoe without someone thinkin’ I’m gay.” Harry says sarcastically. “Why couldn’t she have found the picture of the three of us kissing, now that would’ve been funny.”

“That picture was burned.” Niall says. “The three of us really shouldn’t drink together anymore.” He laughs.

“It wasn’t the alcohol. Didn’t we do shrooms or something that night?” Harry asks.

“I have no fuckin’ idea.”

The boys bring Harry to his car, and follow him back to his place. Louis wanted to see Harry’s new cameras. You were sprawled out on the couch with a book. You hear the door rustling open, and put your book down. You hear him laughing, the boys must be with him. As he keys in, his eyes grow wide at your outfit. You couldn’t even reach for a sweatshirt because you didn’t bring one. Louis and Niall grow quiet as well.

“Um, hi guys.” You say.

“Hey (y/n), see you survived my party.” Niall sits next to you on the couch. He’s seen you in less clothes, you weren’t particularly bothered.

“The cameras are over there, mate.” Harry points to his camera bag. Louis walks over to them and takes the camera out.

“Wow, this lens is sweet.” Louis looks through it.

“Are you a photographer too?” You ask.

“Fuckin’ Harry, you don’t even tell your girlfriend about me? Yeah, love, I’m a photographer too.”

“What do you take pictures of?”

“Um, people mostly. I’m a freelancer, I work a lot of weddings and such.”

“So you all were in undergrad together?”

“Yup, and then we all went to the same grad school. Recipe for disaster.” Niall says.

“No, the recipe for disaster was us living together for more than three years. It was like a frat house.” Louis says. “Parties all the time, I have no idea how we graduated.” Harry goes over to you.

“Have you eaten? I brought you back some oatmeal.” He hands you a to go bowl.

“Oh! Thank you, I had a small snack earlier, but oatmeal sounds great.” You take it from him, and the plastic spoon he has with it, and dig in. “Mmm, is that from that place you took me to when we first started going out?”

“Yup.” Harry smiles and sits on the other side of you.

“So, (y/n), what do you do?” Louis asks.

“I’m in marketing with Niall. I edit our photos and videos.”

“Is Niall like your boss?” You and Niall both laugh.

“No, we’re equals. Niall just project manages, so he likes to think he’s my boss.” You adjust your top and all three boys take a glance at your chest. It’s a bit cold in the apartment, and you’re not wearing the thickest bra. You can just make out your piercings. Louis sits down at one of the chairs near the couch. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.” You get up and go use the bathroom.

“Mate, does she have a naval piercing?” Louis asks.

“Yeah.”

“That’s hot.”

“Why is that hot?” Niall asks. He takes a moment and thinks of Sarah. “You wanna know what’s really hot? Sarah has her nipples pierced.” He whispers so you won’t hear.

“No fuckin’ way.” Louis says. Harry’s eyes are wild. He forgot that you and all your friends got them pierced together.

“Yeah, she said her junior year of college her and her friends all got them to…geth…er.” You reenter the room, and Niall speaks slowly while looking at you. Harry pinches his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Are your nipples pierced?”

“Dammit Harry!” You swat at shoulder. “You told them?”

“No! He just put two and two together because he told us about Sarah’s.”

“Why were you even talking about something like that?”

“Because Lou noticed your naval.” Niall says. “Your nipples are really pierced? Yours?”

“Yes, okay, yes, why is it such a big deal?”

“S’not, I’m just surprised. You won’t get a tattoo but you get your nipples pierced.”

“Okay! Can we please stop talking about my nipples? I was twenty years old, drunk, and stupid. Haven’t you guys ever done something stupid while you were drunk?” You cross your arms over your chest.

“As a matter of fact, these lads were talkin’ about that earlier.” Niall winks at Louis.

“Don’t you fuckin’ start this up again. Sorry if we embarrassed ya.” Louis says

“S’okay.” You sit back down next to Harry. He puts an arm around you. You shoot daggers at him for not defending you.

“Hmm, I wonder how I could get El to do hers. Did it hurt when you had them done?” You sigh.

“The second one hurt worse since I knew what to expect.”

“Do they feel good?”

“Alright, Lou, that’s enough dontcha think?” Harry finally interjects.

“We’re all adults here ain’t we? It’s a simple question.”

“Yeah, but you’re askin’ my girlfriend, right in front of me, if her nipple piercings feel good. Not to mention you’re askin’ it also in front of her male best friend.”

“Oh don’t be such a prude. (y/n), you don’t have to answer, but it would be great to have a first-hand account.” Your face is beat red.

“They, I don’t know, I barely notice they’re there now.”

“No I mean like-“

“Oh! Oh, um…” You look up at Harry, who is also turning red. “For me, I like it, but I know people who have them pierced and it doesn’t really do anything for them. I think it depends on the person.”

“Gotcha. Can I tell ya a crazy story? I once hooked up with a girl who had her clit pierced, begged me to suck on it, came instantly.” Your jaw nearly drops, and you double over laughing.

“Oh, I like you, you’re funny.” You say wiping your eyes. “It was embarrassing enough having my top off in front of a stranger, I couldn’t imagine going into a shop and dropping my pants.”

“I have a feelin’ a friend did it for her or somethin’.”

“So did you all just like constantly hook up with girls?”

“Pretty much, we were a bunch of pricks back then. Nothin’ to be proud of.” Louis rubs the back of his neck.

“What made you wanna settle down with Eleanor?”

“Well, I was actually datin’ this other girl. She was why I stayed here in the states. But things didn’t work out. Which sucked because I got her pregnant.”

“Oh my god, you’re a dad!?” You look at Harry, and then back to Louis. Why had Harry never mentioned that his best friend had a child?

“Yeah, I have a son called Freddie. I met El about a year later, and we never separated.”

“Do you have any pictures?” Louis takes out his phone with a smirk on his face.

“Freddie is the cutest kid you’ll ever see.” Harry says. “I remember when we first went to the hospital to see him, I think I cried more than Lou.” Louis hands you his phone.

“Oh, Louis, he’s precious. How old is he?”

“Just turned four.”

“Wow, how did you handle being such a young parent?”

“It wasn’t easy. His mum and I had already split by the time we found out she was pregnant. I help out as much as I can.”

“Where do they live?”

“Bout an hour from where I live now, another reason why El and I decided to move a little farther away from here. She loves Freddie, and she’s great with him too. So that makes things easier.” You hand him back his phone as it starts to ring. “Hi, love. We were just talkin’ bout ya. Yeah, we’ll be back soon, just wrappin’ up. Bye.” He hangs up. “Niall, mind if we go, El and I have a long drive you know?”

“Sure, mate.” Niall stands up. Harry stands as well, and walks over to the door with them.

“It was great to meet you Louis.”

“Same to you. Take good care of me lad.”

Harry and Louis share a long hug, you think Harry is nearly going to cry.

“So, we’ll plan somethin’ soon?” Louis asks as he lets go.

“Yeah, really soon.” Harry smiles at them, as Niall and Louis walk out.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“You alright?”

“I will be. I feel like I took in a lot of information today.” He sits back next to you. “Sorry if that was awkward for you. Lou doesn’t really have a filter.”

“I can’t believe he’s a dad to a four year old.”

“He’s a great dad. He loves that boy more than anything. Would you, um, be interested in finding a weekend to go visit him and Eleanor sometime?” You’re shocked that you didn’t have to bring it up first.

“Um, yeah we could do that sometime.”

“Not before we go away together just the two of us though. Be kind of weird to have our first weekend away visiting another couple.” He was reading your mind.

“I like the idea of a weekend away with you.”

“Hmm, where could I take you off to?”

“Remember when you mentioned a spa weekend a while back? We could drive out to an inn or something and just get pampered.”

“That sounds like an incredible idea. We could do like a long weekend or something.”

“Do you get veteran’s day off? We could try to go that weekend.”

“I could probably make that work. That’s only a couple weeks away, we’d need to start booking everything soon.”

“Want me to get my laptop?”

“Sure.” You get up and grab your laptop from his desk, and sit back down.

“How about a drive up to New Hampshire? The foliage is beautiful this time of year.”

“That would be great actually, I could take some cool pictures of the leaves.” You smile at him. “Oh, Harry, look at this place! We could get a couple’s massage for a pretty fair price, and the rooms look so pretty.”

“Works for me. What’s the number, I’ll call.”

“Wait, I want to make sure I pay for half.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Harry, you can’t keep paying for stuff. I feel like you’re spending all your money on me. A dinner here and there is fine, but I can’t let you pay for a hotel and spa all by yourself.” He sighs.

“So how do you suggest we do this then?”

“Well, if we go for two nights, we can each pay for one night at the hotel. I’m happy to just write you a check if you want to put it on your credit card, or we could put it on mine. Then for the massage we can just split that too.”

“Fine, but I’m not happy about it.” He pouts and you stick your tongue out at him. “What’s the number, I can make the reservations.” You show him the screen, and he makes all the calls.

“I’m so excited!” You say getting up and hugging him. “Something fun to look forward to.”

#take it slow #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles y/n fic

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

90+96?

90. Unexpected Virgin + 96. Scars

from fanfiction trope mashup here

continuation of me filling ancient, 2 year old prompts in my inbox! sometimes you just gotta return to the basics and write post-movie first time :’) this is the first thing ive written on my new laptop, MOMENTOUS OCCASION. as u might have guessed 18+/NOT SFW BELOW CUT

—————

They’re about an hour into the impromptu We Didn’t Die! party currently ravaging the base when Hermann–stripped out of his sweatervest, and clutching his cane like a lifeline–suddenly grips Newt by the forearm and swings him around to face him. “Newton,” he declares, as the contents of Newt’s plastic cup slosh to the floor, “I would like to invite you back to my quarters.”

It’s probably due to the two shots of vodka Newt downed in quick succession about twenty minutes into the impromptu party that the innuendo flies right over his head, and, instead of accepting enthusiastically, he merely draws his face into a pout. It’s not unusual for Hermann to force him to go to bed, especially after a week of all-nighters in the lab, but now? During this? They’re practically guests of fucking honor. “To sleep? Lame. I’m not tired. Hey, unwind, have a drink!” He pushes his plastic cup into Hermann’s face.

Hermann pushes it away. “I believe you misunderstood me,” he says. “I’m asking you to have sex with me, Newton.”

“Oh,” Newt says.

They’re out of LOCCENT in a flash, and bursting through the door of Hermann’s cramped quarters in another. Newt has been fucking vibrating with energy all day long–excitement, elation, fear, straight-up terror–and he’s more than ready to unleash all twelve hours’ worth of it, plus twelve years’ worth of pathetic pining, on Hermann in the most awesome, cathartic victory sex the world has ever seen. And now that they’re finally alone–now that they’re finally alone together–

“I am so fucking horny right now,” Newt breathes. He kicks off his boots: one of them flies across the room and knocks over a precariously-balanced stack of books, while the other smacks against Hermann’s dresser and sends a photograph of Newt and Hermann crashing to the floor. “Holy shit, you have no clue. Oh my God.” Truthfully, he’s been sporting a half-boner since he threw his arm around Hermann in LOCCENT, and Hermann gave him that little smile and tucked up against him, but Hermann doesn’t need to know that.

Hermann’s eyes are dark, and his pupils are wide. He wets his lips as those eyes sweep over Newt. “I. Ah. I am, as well.”

“Fuck yes,” Newt says. He moves his hands to his collar, where he rips off his tie, but he stops at his buttons with a grin. He could at least pretend to play hard to get. “Hey, you want me to take my shirt off?”

“That’s typically what’s done, isn’t it?” Hermann says. “During–” He clears his throat. “During these sorts of things?”

“Right,” Newt says. “Okay, do yours too.”

They take their shirts off. Hermann is sporting a nice set of shoulders and biceps, and an even nicer set of pecs, and Newt thinks that trim waist would be the perfect size to wrap his fingers around, but his too-pale skin hugs his ribs a little too-tightly. There’s not a hint of hair in sight. The exact opposite of Newt, basically, in all his hairy, tattooed, out of shape glory. It’s kind of perfect. Newt bets they’d fit together like a pair of puzzle pieces.

He wolf-whistles before he can help himself. “I should’ve known you’d be even hotter under all those stupid sweaters.”

“Oh,” Hermann says. His mouth twitches up into a coy echo of his earlier smile. “Thank you. I think.”

Newt wants to get all over that hot bod, and so he does, inching up to Hermann until their stomachs brush and their chins bump, and planting his hands on either side of that neat, sexy waist. He’s right about it being the perfect size to grab. Hermann watches him through his dark lower lashes, standing perfectly still; he’s holding his breath. “I’m gonna kiss you now,” Newt says.

Hermann nods.

They kiss. It’s pretty cool, even if Hermann stands as stiff as a board, arms hanging limply at his sides, and even if when he finally decides to use tongue it’s at the moment Newt decides to use teeth and he ends up firmly biting down on it. “Ow,” Hermann hisses, pulling back sharply.

“Sorry,” Newt says. “I haven’t gotten laid in ages. I kinda forget how to, uh...” He tries to kiss Hermann again, but at Hermann’s darkening, skeptical expression, drops it. “Uh, you wanna take this to the bed?”

“Take off your jeans first,” Hermann says.

They stare at each other.

“Not–I mean yes, but–what I mean is they’re filthy,” Hermann snaps. “I’m not having you dirty up my sheets. Grime and blood and who on Earth knows what else.”

“Sure,” Newt says, and grins again. He fumbles with his belt and drops his jeans, and Hermann’s gaze drops too. Never one to pass up putting on a show, Newt tips his crotch forward to make his boner just that bit more prominent, and just that bit more in Hermann’s personal space. “Like what you’re seeing?”

Hermann nods.

Newt takes Hermann’s right hand and places it on his hip, just the waistband of his boxers. “You wanna take these off?” he says. He punctuates the question with a little kiss to Hermann’s throat. It’s so smooth–not at all like the scratchy, stubbly mess across Newt’s. He kisses it again, just ‘cause it’s nice, and feels more than hears the low rumble of a groan that rises in the back of it. Hermann’s shut his eyes.

“Ah–Newton–”

When it becomes clear Hermann won’t be sticking his hands down Newt’s boxers any time soon, Newt backs him up to his bed and pushes him down into it. Hermann sprawls backwards with a small thump. His cane clatters to the floor. “You gotta do some of the work here, dude,” Newt laughs.

To his surprise, Hermann flushes. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I haven’t much. Er. Experience, with this sort of thing. I’m not quite sure what to do.”

This comes as no small surprise to Newt. Hermann’s just…Hermann, y’know? He’s bitchy, and weird, and kind of weird-looking, but he has a sexy way of rolling his r’s and a sexy mouth and, apparently, a sexy bod, and if Newt–the guy’s certifiable rival–has wanted to get into his pants for ages, he’s sure he can’t have been the only one. But hell if the thought of being the first one to do it doesn’t turn him on likes crazy. “Luckily for you, I’m a pro at sex,” he lies. “I’m amazing. Just ask anyone. Wait, uh, not anyone, I don’t mean–”

“I know,” Hermann says. He sits up and plucks at Newt’s waistband. “May I take these off now?” He wets his lips again.

“By my fucking guest, dude,” Newt says.

Hermann tucks two elegant, nimble fingers under the elastic and slips Newt’s underwear down to pool around his ankles, finally letting his erection breathe a little. Newt leers down at him. “What about now?” he says. “Huh? You like this?”

But Hermann isn’t looking at his dick, inches from his nose though it is; Hermann’s looking to the left of it. “You have a scar here,” he says, and pokes at a small expanse of skin on Newt’s thigh between two tattoos.

“Uh,” Newt says. “Yeah, dude. I rammed into a table when I was rollerskating in the house once and had to get stitches.”

Hermann traces his fingers over the scar. “You must have been quite the handful as a child,” he says wryly.

The incident in question happened when Newt was twenty-four, but he decides it’s best to not divulge that particular bit of information to Hermann. “Uh. Yeah.”

Hermann reaches down and unbuckles his own belt, then begins to partially wriggle out of his stupid baggy pants and tighty-whiteys. “We’re matching,” he says. “Look.”

His left hip and thigh is a mess of scar tissue that Newt imagines, at one point, must’ve hurt like a bitch. Way more than Newt’s stupid incident with the roller skates. Way more than could even be compared to Newt’s stupid incident with the roller skates. But he smiles anyway: he likes the idea of it being some giant, flashing sign from the universe of their drift compatibility. “Have you looked in the mirror?” he says, and shuts his non-bloodied eye to make his point. “We’re not just matching there.”

“Hopefully not permanently,” Hermann says. He finally turns his attention on Newt’s dick, scrutinizing it like it’s one of his incomprehensible equations. It gets Newt even hotter. “Would you like to have sex now? I’m eager to put your renowned skills to the test.”

Newt doesn’t miss the sarcasm. It’d be kind of hard to. “Jackass,” he says. “Move over, I’m getting in.”

Hermann divests himself of the rest of his clothing and shuts off the overhead light while Newt makes himself comfortable on Hermann’s bed, though he leaves his small bedside lamp on to cast them both in a cozy yellow glow. All of Hermann’s room is shockingly cozy, in fact: the quilt tucked in neatly to his cushy mattress, the tea kettle on his dresser, the soft rug on the floor, the space heater (shut off) half-hidden in the corner. No wonder Hermann sleeps in so late. If Newt’s setup was like this, he’d never leave his quarters either.

“We could get under this, if you’d like,” Hermann says, pinching a bit of the quilt. “It’ll be warmer. It can get very chilly in here.” He fidgets. “And. Er. It’ll be easier to wash my sheets, rather than…”

“Yeah, that’s cool,” Newt says.

They move under the quilt. Hermann’s breath is warm on Newt’s face, and losing a layer seems to have imbibed Hermann with a newfound sense of confidence; his hands begin wandering across Newt’s body, up his sides, down his back, squeezing and pinching his skin, cupping his ass, and he layers kiss after kiss to Newt’s neck, his throat, his jaw. Newt rocks into each touch and moans helplessly.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hermann murmurs into his ear.

Newt laughs weakly. He’s gotten cute once or twice, but he doesn’t think anyone’s ever called him beautiful. It’s nice. He likes it. “Aw, dude.”

“You are,” Hermann says. “I’ve always thought you were. It’s been a terrible distraction in the laboratory.” He leans in and kisses Newt, still as graceless and chaste as before, but his low murmur has returned when he finishes, and it makes heat pool in Newt’s stomach. “Mm, sometimes all I could think about was how badly I wanted you.”

“Sometimes I used to jack off after we argued,” Newt blurts out.

Hermann blinks, surprised, and laughs. “Did you?”

“In the bathroom. Once in the supply closet. Nnh. Ah, fuck, Hermann, fuck–”

Bored of talking, apparently, Hermann’s decided to creep his hand lower and curl it around Newt’s dick. His touch is light, and unsure, and it kinda just makes it all even sexier. “I wish you told me this was your first time,” Newt whines out, pushing into Hermann’s fist. “I would’ve, guh, bought you dinner. Or something. We could’ve waited. Made it–made it meaningful.”

“Darling,” Hermann says, “this is perfect.”

Hermann kisses him; Newt comes, gasping and whining into his mouth. It’s a little embarrassing. He doesn’t think anyone’s ever called him beautiful, but he knows no one’s ever called him darling, and with Hermann the one being so sweet to him--it’s too much.

“Shit,” he pants afterwards, while Hermann examines the sticky mess on his fingers with mild interest. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to--I wanted to last longer.”

“Oh, we’ve got all night,” Hermann says, sounding pleased. He wipes his fingers off with tissues from a box on his bedside, then drags Newt’s hand under the covers to cup his own neglected dick, fluttering his eyelashes coquettishly. Newt swallows down a whimper. It’s not fair that Hermann is doing better at this than Newt. “I would like very much for you to touch me.”

“Okay,” Newt squeaks.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #not sfw /////

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softest-cinnamon-roll · 4 years

Note

Did Eddie kill his mum!? If he did, good for him. Also I need a part 2 to the snow prompt I beg of u 🥺

you asked and I delivered. This is part two to this, and set from Eddie’s point of view.

trigger warning: mentions of conversion therapy

* * * * *

Eddie was quiet on the ride to the station, his eyes glancing out the window at the houses and trees covered in snow. Tears built up in his eyes, but he refused to break down, there was no way he was breaking down in front of the officers. He closed his eyes, but all he could see was a repeat of the events that had taken place that night, all leading up to the look of horror on Richie’s face as he was dragged away.

He wondered how long he’d get in prison for what happened. Ten years? Twenty? LIfe? His mother was dead now, all because of him, all because he couldn’t do as he was told. Eddie’s eyes moved from the window to his arms, which were slowly beginning to bruise, the scratches turning a harsh red colour.

The car suddenly came to a stop, and the officers stepped out, opening the door to pull Eddie out by his cuffed hands. They lead him into the station and through a set of double doors into a pale grey room with a single table and two chairs. It didn’t take a genius to know that this was an interrogation room, and that he was about to be questioned on what happened in the house, less than an hour ago.

“Take a seat, Mr Kasbrak. Someone will be with you shortly.” One of the officers stated as he sat Eddie down in the chair, like he wasn’t capable of doing it himself. Maybe he wasn’t. A thousand thoughts were swirling around in his head, and before the officer could leave the room, Eddie turned around to catch his attention.

“L-Lawyer…” Eddie croaked out, his eyes widening at the sound of his own voice. It hadn’t sounded like that earlier when he had spoken to Richie, but then again the adrenaline was starting to wear off and the pain was beginning to settle in. Carefully, Eddie lifted his hand to his throat, tears springing into his eyes at the pain. “I- I want a- a lawyer.”

The officer just nodded, leaving the room and slamming the door closed. The ringing echoed in Eddie’s ears and he moved his hands from his throat to cover them up, resting his head on the table in front of him. As he closed his eyes, he let his mind take him back to the beginning of the night, to before everything fell to shit.

“Oh come on Eds, are you sure you don’t want to come to the arcade with Bill and me? It’ll be fun! I’ll even let you win a few games.” Eddie rolled his eyes as Richie practically begged him down the line to hang out with them. Of course, Eddie wouldn’t usually pass up on a chance to get out of the house and spend time with his boyfriend, but his mother had been…acting stranger that day and he didn’t think sneaking out of his window would work that night.

“I can’t,” Eddie sighed eventually. “I have…stuff I need to do.” The lie was pathetic, and Eddie knew Richie would know he was making excuses, he just hoped for once that Richie would let it go. He’d see him the next day anyway, as they had all planned to hang out at the clubhouse. “I’ll see you tomorrow though. I promise.”

He could hear the hesitation in Richie’s sigh, but he eventually caved and they said their goodbyes. A few moments later, his mother called him from downstairs. The tone of her voice was harsh, and Eddie felt a sick feeling rise in his stomach, yet he followed her orders and went down the stairs.

The rest of the evening passed by tensely, with Eddie sitting on the couch and his mother sitting on her armchair, staring aimlessly at the screen. Once her show was done, she flicked off the TV and turned so she was facing Eddie, only making his anxiety grow. “Eddie-bear. When were you going to tell me about you and that dirty boy? When were you going to confess that you are defying god and doing ungodly things with that boy?”

Eddie froze up and he looked at his mother with a shocked expression. There was no way she could have known, he was being so careful! Even after she had installed the camera in the hallway, which Eddie knew was to make sure he wasn’t sneaking out at night, he was still careful. “Ma-”

“You are not to see him again, and first thing tomorrow I am taking you to a confessional and we’re going to get you cured.” His mother spoke with no emotion in her voice and Eddie’s heart dropped, tears springing into his eyes. “Don’t start crying, Edward. You did this to yourself.” Within a few seconds, his mother was off the chair and looming over him, wrapping her chubby hand around his wrist, squeezing tight. “No son of mine is going to be the local faggot.”

“Ma- ma you’re hurting me,” Eddie whimpered, tugging his hand to try and get out of her grip, but it only tightened, nails digging into his skin. “Ma, let me go!”

She stared down at him, nothing but hatred in her eyes and for the first time in years, Eddie felt genuine fear around her. ”You are a dirty boy Eddie, and you need to be punished. You need to see that it’s wrong.” She hissed, moving her other hand to attempt to restrain Eddie further. Before she could, Eddie jerked his hand away, removing her grip and he scrambled over the sofa and up the stairs,

He could hear his mother screaming, her feet thundering on the floorboards as she followed him and then banging on his door once he’d slammed and locked it. His heart was racing, tears streaming down his cheeks as he looked down at his arm, scratched and bleeding. Fuck, his mother had gone insane and he needed to get out of there before she did something terrible.

Quickly, Eddie shoved as many necessary items into an overnight bag and pulled it over his shoulder. He’d go to Richie’s, he was always welcome there, and now that he was eighteen his mother couldn’t say it was kidnapping as he made his own choice. He pulled up his window and was just about to jump when the door opened and a hand was digging into his scalp, pulling him back from the window and towards the door.

“You really do not want to know what I’m capable of Edward,” his mother hissed as she dragged him from his room into the hallway and onto his feet. “Why did you have to go and be such a bad boy? Why couldn’t you have stayed as my precious Eddie-Bear and married a church girl just like I wanted? Why did you have to be dirty Eddie?”

Eddie shook his head, trying to get out of her grip, but she was strong in her anger. “I-I’m not your little boy anymore! I haven’t been for a while! I’m in love with Richie and there is nothing you can do to stop that! No conversion therapy is going to change the fact that I’m gay and you need to accept it!”

At his words, her eyes darkened just a little and Eddie thought that he had finally gotten through to her, that she would finally just accept it and let him go. What he didn’t expect was for her to move her hands to his throat and start to squeeze. “I didn’t want to have to do this Eddie. You were my little boy and I loved you, but I can’t have a fag for a son, I can’t have a dirty, sick boy living under my roof. I am sorry, but this is for your own good, this will cleanse your soul and maybe you’ll be allowed to enter heaven or you will go to hell and repent for your sins.”

It all happened so fast, Eddie’s vision was blacking out the harder that his mother squeezed at his throat, and he knew if he didn’t act then he would be dead in seconds. Hoping to distract her long enough just so he could escape and run for help, Eddie raised his leg and slammed his foot down on his mother’s. She gasped in pain, removing her hands from his throat and backing up towards the stairs. Their eyes met for a moment, a long halted moment before she lost her balance at the top of the staircase, body tumbling backwards as Eddie tried to lunge forward and catch her.

He was too late, her fingers skimming past his own as she fell down, body thumping against the steps and even cracking a few before her head slammed against the large pillar at the bottom of the stairs with a hard, resounding crack. Silence filled the room, barr Eddie’s intense breathing as he stared down at his motionless mother on the floor of their entrance hall. From where he was standing, he could see the blood pouring onto the laminate floor from her head.

Slowly, Eddie moved his trembling body backwards until it hit the wall, allowing the tears of horror to flow.

What the hell had he done?

* * * * *

@3tothe1 @anellope @annxmatron @appojoos @are-you-reddie-for-it @beepbeeprichiellc @bi-bi-richie @billdenbrough @bitchbrak @callmechee @dadbodrichie @derrylosers @disneyfan567 @eds-trashmouth @eduardoandale @feldmancorey @girasol-eddie @gloire-celeste @halfway-happy353 @hawkinsbabe @inthebreadbinwrites @itfandomprompts @its-stranger-than-you-think @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @kat-ships-everything @lifesucksheres20bucks @loserslibrary @losers-gotta-stick-together @madidraw @mars-14 @marsisaplanetyall @moonlightrichie @nancynwheeler @no-she-wasnt-reddie @oldguybones @photoboothreddie @pink-psychic @purplepoisonedgem @queen-sock @ransonelovebot @rebecca-the-queen @reddie-for-anything @reddie-to-cryy @reddieforlove @reddiesetandgo @richietoaster @roobarrtrashmouth @rreddies @s-onora @s-s-georgie @sashadrowned @sedanleystanley @sloppybitchreddie @sparklingrainbowdragon @spirited-marvel @stebbins @stellarbisexual @studpuffin @takeourpure @that-weird-girls-blog @thegoshdiddlydangdoor @thejadeazalea @thorn-harvester-ven @tinyarmedtrex @tozier-boy @tozierking @toziesque @trashmouthtozierr @twoidiotsinl0ve @violetreddie @virgo-luthie @wilding-throught-thehallways @xandertheundead

#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #snow part 2 #tw death #tw sonia kasprak #tw homophobic slurs #writing tag

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grouptalekindnesssoulstories · 4 years

Text

Genderbent!sides

Once again I am writing at midnight. I blame my horrible habits.

Katie/Dee, Roman/Rachel, Remus/Rexine, Virgil/Storm, Logan/Lia, and Patton/Penelope are our cast of characters!

Warnings: scars, snappish behavior, invasion of privacy, implied bullying, injury, implied negligence, stalker, curses

Word Count: 1,600

___

Katie was done with society’s expectations. She had decided to go barefoot around school. Screw the rules about needing shoes. She had a pair in her bag for walking on the sidewalk, she wasn’t dumb. Her outfit also pushed school rules, with a tank top with straps juuuuust barely wide enough to not be spaghetti straps. Her pants were on par with expectations, unfortunately in one of the other triplets’ mind. Rachel and Rexine had been busy fighting over who would change that morning to follow the older triplet’s example. Not that it bothered the two girls who had crushes on them. Lia and Storm were trying very hard to hide the fact that they stared as the girls swept down the hall to their lockers. Penelope was too busy with the cheerleaders to see Katie’s outfit.

“Miss Rekans, I ask that you put on a sweatshirt over your...top” Mrs. Smith wrinkled her nose at the barefoot girl.

“Sorry, don’t have one. Gotta get to class” Said girl called over her shoulder. Her shoes were in her locker, and her books balanced in one arm. She also had plenty of time to get to class, but she didn’t wait around for that to be pointed out. Penelope was one of the last to get in the science class with a few of the cheerleaders with her.

“Alright you guys. We’re starting a multiple day lab, and I have chosen your partners. now, Miss Manson with Mr Karl-” the teacher started to list off names “-Miss Rekans with Miss Picani” He put down his clipboard after announcing the last pair. Katie’s leg was bouncing with nerves as the cheerleader moved to sit next to her.

“Uh, I don’t think we’ve properly met. I’m Penelope Picani” The petite blonde offered a hand to the taller girl. The red head scoffed before returning the courtesy.

“Katie Rekans. Not that it matters pretty girl. I’ve seen you around and I’m not exactly impressed. You seem to be slow, and if you drag down this lab I will find a way to get even. Now, do you know where the beakers are” She immediately bent her head to read the directions, ignoring the way Pen sagged. The right side of her face, the one without the scars criss-crossing it was bright red. The two didn’t talk more than necessary until the end when Katie glanced over.

“....You forgot to put it over the accepted value, and to multiply by 100″ She pointed to the paper, where Pen was struggling to figure out what she was missing.

“Oh. Thanks I guess. thought you didn’t exactly care about if I failed” The struggling girl muttered the last part under her breath. After a second, she reached up to touch the scars on Katie’s face. Her hand was immediately slapped away, and the girl whirled on her.

“Don’t touch. Now, go away” Katie mumbled as she scooped up her stuff to leave for her next class. In her haste, she dropped a small notebook. She was out the door before Pen could point it out, and Pen hugged it close to her chest self-consciously.

~~~

“Tor, look at this” Pen said, holding out the notebook to the violet-haired girl. Her confusion was evident on her dark face, and she immediately started flipping through it.

“Pen, look. This looks like you” She stopped on a sketch, obviously very well loved, even in the well-loved notebook. There was the beginning of a story on the next page.

“Give that back” A snarl echoed behind them. Rexine stood there, her face as dark as they had seen it. Storm handed it over quickly, and the tallest of the triplets stomped off to her sister. It looked like the owner of the book began to cry silently, and she was indeed. Her heart was broken as a result of someone invading her privacy.

“Shit. That was a dumb move” Pen cursed, a rare occurrence. Tor shrank down, pushing what little food she had in front of her away.

“Maybe apologize? Can’t make it worse” Tor suggested, and her friend nodded and stood quickly. She walked carefully over, hovering nervously at the end of the table.

“What” The bold girl snarled, hugging her book close.

“I just wanted to say sorry. That was wrong”

“No shit Sherlock. I’m going to ask Mr. Snid to transfer lab partners. You obviously need someone who can deal with that. Have a nice day Miss Picani” Katie left immediately after, trailed by Rexine. Pen was left standing there, tears building in her eyes. Why must that girl be so bitter?

~~~

Lia was helping in the library last block. It was her safe space, and the only area no bully could reach. To her misfortune, Rexine had class there at the same time.

“Hey, uh, can you help me find something?” Said girl approached Lia.

“This is a library, and I am an assistant here. So, yes, I can help you find something. What are you looking for?” She stated matter-of-factly, a slight smile on her face on the obvious respect this girl held for the space.

“Uh, a book on STDs, and a date to homecoming?” Rexine said in a rush.

“This way. Much harder to help you find a date to homecoming though, as I know very few available people. I also have no idea of your preference either” Lia responded mindlessly.

“Would you be my date?” Rex seemed to have gained some confidence.

“I have no one to go with, so yes” A hot blush spread across Lia’s face as she realized she’d just agreed to go to prom with Rexine Rekans. The girl she’d had a crush on for 3 years, 4 months, and 17 days

“Would’ja also be my girlfriend?”

“As we are to be going together it would be implied we are dating so yes of course I’ve wanted to date you for 2 years 4 mon-”

“You could have just said yes calc!” The girl laughed that warm, booming laugh that Lia just melted for. She handed a book to Rexine before fleeing to tell the librarians.

~~~

“You asked out Lia Samson. And she said yes??” Rachel was grilling her sister an hour later.

“Yes. It was alllll over school” Katie said boredly from her perch on the window sill. She was writing in her journal, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

“I’m still in shock. I just blurted in out and she responded! And now we’re girlfriends!!” Rex was wiggling happily, an expression of bliss across her face.

“Speaking of, how are you Kat? It sucks that your crush did that to you” Rachel turned to the other teen.

“If I deny my crush enough, it’ll go away. I said it was stupid and it was never gonna work out” Katie shrugged, studying her fingernails. There were twin hums of doubt, but all three dropped the subject quickly, switching to plans for dinner and homecoming.

~~~

“I have a girlfriend” Lia was numbly stating to Pen. The other girl looked almost lifeless, like the confrontation had taken something out of her physically.

“Hey kiddo. I think you should head home. Pen and I need to talk” Dr. Picani appeared, grimacing at his daughter’s expression. Lia packed up quickly and left.

~~~2 days later~~

“For the last time, no, Miss Rekans, you cannot switch partners. I don’t care what happened, you need to have the same data” Mr Snid sighed, looking like he had no more patience left. Katie stomped off, taking her seat next to the blonde and scooting as far as possible.

“You have to talk to me sometime. We are partners” Pen said 20 minutes later, frustrated with the silence broken only by numbers to be recorded.

“No one said you had to try and make up with me. Now, DON’T DO THAT” Katie stated quietly, before knocking the other girl over. The boys in front of them had knocked into the table and spilled dangerous chemicals right where the girl had been. There were whimpers of pain after a moment, and the teacher realized Katie had taken some of the chemicals on her legs. They were currently swelling and getting more and more irritated.

“JOHN CALL THE NURSE AND 911, PENELOPE, PULL HER OVER TO THE SHOWER. BOYS, OFFICE. NOW” Mr. Snid shouted, pointing at each kid he instructed. Pen sprang up, grabbing hold of her partner’s shoulders and dragging her to the aforementioned shower. She pulled the handle with all her strength, releasing the water. There was a scream of pain as the water hit the severely irritated wounds. It did its job however, and washed the chemicals off before any more damage was done.

“I’m...sorry...Pen” The girl mumbled, meeting the girl’s eyes. Before Pen could do more than flail for words, the nurse arrived and shooed her away. She fumbled for the other girl’s phone, and hit emergency call. She pushed the button for Rex first, tears already running down her face. The girl picked up, luckily.

“Rexine, Katie, hurt, room 223″ Pen hung up before she could say anything and did the same with Rachel. Luckily, the confusion had made it so they could answer. There were thundering footsteps as the paramedics arrived.

“Please, that’s our sister. Please let us come” Rachel begged as they took her away. After a moment they nodded and the two followed.

~~~~

“Please. Let me see her? I’m..I’m her lab partner. Please?” Pen was begging the hospital staff a few hours later. Tor and Lia were also there. Dr. Picani entered behind them, and finally the group was allowed into the room. Rachel and Rex were asleep next to Katie, who was staring blankly at the TV.

“Where are your parents girls?” Dr. Picani asked.

“Out of town” Katie answered after a minute, turning her gaze on the group at last.

“I’m sorry. I should have- should have been paying more attention” Pen hiccuped clutching her hands to her chest. Lia had moved to sit on the floor next to her girlfriend.

“It wasn’t your fault. You may have been hurt more severely if you hadn’t said something when you did” Katie was trembling, tears building in her eyes.

“Pen did regret her actions” Tor spoke up quietly after a couple minutes of awkward silence.

“I know. It’s just...I thought you had figured out. And I realized it wasn’t stolen, just lost. I’m still mad you looked at it though. Come here, I know you want to hug me” Katie opened her arms. Pen ran forward, collapsing into the embrace and beginning to sob. The other girl awkwardly rubbed her back.

“I love you and I was so afraid I lost you. I...it killed me when I realized I had hurt you so badly. I always admired your bravery and, and I slowly fell in love with you. I’ve been in so many of your classes and you just....you were so amazing”

“Shsshh. I love you too airhead” Katie mumbled into Pen’s hair as she rambled on.

~~~~

Katie was released a few days later, in a wheelchair. She was excused from the lab and sat near the door in all her classes. Rex and Lia had led the charge to combine the tables. The first day Katie had been wheeled in, she nearly asked to leave. Pen had gone back to quietly maintaining distance and the possibility of sitting with her was daunting. She sucked it up and dealt with it, until she finally worked up the courage to talk to Pen. After a few days of casual conversation, she held Pen back.

“Look I...I feel the same, ok?! I just...always thought you had someone and it waas stupid but I thought you’d hate me if I tried to get close to you” Katie couldn’t keep her voice steady in her fear. She was finally shut up by a tender kiss.

“I had a few someones, but they never lasted. None of them could slice through my barriers like you have. You’re charming, and sarcastic and confident. So, does this mean we can be a thing?”

“Yea. Yea, I’d love that. Just...try to keep it on the down low? I don’t want to wreck your popularity” Pen just huffed, and pushed Katie to her next class before dashing to her own.

~~~~

Tor quickly realized out of the two groups, she was the third wheel. There was Rachel, sure, but she always seemed busy with theater, especially as the productions approached. She was a major character, and they had a preview at the pep rally, which she wanted to ace. Plus, there was Gus. He was the guy who Rachel had reluctantly begun to date a few weeks before her sister’s accident. She broke up with him right after, and he refused to leave her alone. Tor came across the two a few days before homecoming.

“Look Rach, I don’t get why you dumped me! We were the power couple, the star quarterback and the theater nerd. Plus, you are not a lesbian, and everyone can see that. You are just trying to get out of a relationship” He had her backed into a corner.

“I am a lesbian and i broke up with you for this exact reason!” She glanced around for an escape before he grabbed her chin.

“Look baby, you are in denial. You need me”

“Hey bitch, listen to the girl for once in your pathetic life. Or are you too stupid to realize someone else exists beyond your dick. You may be quarterback, but you are hated by your entire team. So shove a stick up that fat ass and hope you can piss, you sniveling sack of bitch and stupidity” Tor shoved him away, yelling at the top of her voice. Gus snarled, reaching to move her out of the way. In response, she shoved a knee towards his package before shoving a fist into his mouth. He gagged and she rammed a shoulder into him, knocking him over. Rachel pulled Tor after her, racing towards the bathroom and locking the door behind them.

“Thank you. You’re my knight in shining armor” She panted, offering a charming smile. Tor’s heart skipped a beat, making the crush obvious to even the most oblivious of people.

“It’s nothing. Just...y’know. Self-defense classes with my Dad. Bonding time finally came in handy” She smiled, ducking her head.

“No, please don’t hide those beautiful eyes. They’re my favorite feature of your’s after seeing them for the first time”

“Sap”

“Emo nightmare” The pair burst out laughing, dispelling the fear.

“look, I wanted a date to homecoming and since we’re picking your friends up and all, and I don’t wanna third wheel, would you be my date?” Rachel spoke again after a minute.

“Sure Princey. Just...don’t expect me to be a good date”

“You’ll already be perfect as you are” Tor spluttered, and Rachel started laughing again.

“Whatever. I’m claiming you as my girlfriend so creepy will back off. Just tell him the girl that beat his ass is your girlfriend. And travel in a group if possible” Storm called over her shoulder, leaving a very red Rachel.

~~~

The rest of the year was going to be interesting for sure.

#moceit #prinxiety #Intrulogical #fem!sides #sanders sides #sympathetic sides

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raineydaywrites · 3 years

Text

struck by the cupid’s bow

ao3 link in the source!

summary: Febuwhump day 4: Impaling

The excursion to get the Light should have been easy. It should have been just a nice day out with Lup's two favorite humans.

It wasn't.

It wasn't supposed to be a difficult excursion. The Light had landed at the top of a mountain, in an isolated region that was hard to reach by foot but easy in a ship like the Starblaster.

As far as they could tell, the isolation of the landing point meant that no one had gotten a hold of the Light, and very few were willing to try. The Light tended to draw people in, but that effect lessened the further away from it one was, and the danger of the climb combined with the distance meant that most people were able to resist the desire to acquire it.

So it should have been relatively easy. They weren't going to be stupid about their approach, of course, but they didn't have as much to worry about as usual, and they all had a lot of survival experience by now. This wasn't anything that they couldn't handle.

It was decided that Lup, Barry, and Lucretia would go after the object, while Taako, Magnus, and Davenport stayed on the ship. Merle had already been killed, and therefore couldn't help either way. An even split like that would ensure that both the excursion team and the ship were safe, and both parties were balanced, with each having one of the two heaviest hitters on the ship.

That kind of thinking was habit by this point, even if they weren't expecting major danger. It was just better to be safe.

Lup was excited about the mission, and who she was going on it with. She loved everyone on the crew, but they all had different personalities and senses of humor, and, while she certainly enjoyed a good party or low-brow joke herself, she liked to spend time with the two nerdiest members of the crew as well. Barry and Lucretia both had a tendency to be quieter and more serious, even if they definitely had their moments to the contrary, and while they weren't exactly overwhelmed by the louder voices of Magnus, Merle, Taako, and Lup herself, they didn't often fight to be heard either.

And Lup could admit to some nerdy tendencies in herself, (unlike Taako, who definitely had nerdy tendencies but refused to acknowledge them) and she enjoyed having time to discuss more academic and theoretical topics in depth from time to time.

Besides which, she always liked going places with Barry, even if this particular occasion wouldn't allow any alone time. It was nice to spend time with her boyfriend without the incessant teasing they had to endure at the hands of the rest of the crew. Lucretia might tease a little, but she was far less prone to teasing them about this than the rest of them were.

The Starblaster couldn't land right by the Light of Creation, given the rocky landscape, but it could get them fairly close, and it was a long but relatively easy hike from there. Lup had brought food in a picnic basket for when they got hungry, and there was a light breeze breaking the heat of the day. And when they were done, they'd be able to stop worrying about the Light for this cycle and just enjoy themselves and work on things they were interested in.

It had all the makings of a great day.

As they walked, they'd discussed the most interesting things that they'd noticed about this plane. When she and Barry started to discuss more sciency topics, Lucretia listened intently, scribbling in her journal every once in a while. Over the years, she'd developed her understanding of the scientific discussions that she, Barry, and Taako tended to delve into, but a lot of the time, she still preferred to listen in rather than contribute.

Lup wanted to encourage her to participate more in these conversations, but she could understand that Lucretia might just plain not be interested in the discussions. She hadn't studied science in school, and only minored in magical theory, so it was totally possible that she just didn't have fun talking about this stuff, and Lup didn't want to pressure her to do something she didn't like.

But every once in a while, Lucretia would chime in with a joke or suggestion, so Lup didn't feel like they were making her third-wheel too badly, and it was fun.

They got the Light without issue, but they took longer walking there than they'd expected, and they were only about halfway back when it started to get too dark for human eyes to see clearly.

Lup took the lead, as both the person with the most offensive magic of the three of them and the only one who wasn't hindered by the darkness around them. Lucretia and Barry had flashlights to carry, but those weren't nearly as helpful to them as Lup's darkvision was to her.

Their conversation died down a bit as they were making their way back. There wasn't much to be afraid of, really, but the dark was always a bit unnerving to most people, and almost everyone on the crew had at least a small degree of fear of the dark, after everything they'd experienced.

Poor Barry was one of the worse off though, and he kept jumping every couple minutes as he heard something or other rustling around.

"Here," Lucretia said, softly, to Barry, and Lup turned back curiously at the words.

Lucretia had grabbed Barry's hand to help keep him steady and moving forward, and the touch seemed to be helping to calm him a bit as well. Lup felt a quick wave of affection for both of her sweet humans, before turning back to keep a look out.

Even though there didn't seem to be any people coming after the Light, wild animals could still be a threat. And it was all the more important to be prepared, now that they had the Light in their possession.

It had an unfortunate habit of drawing people in, after all. And even monsters and animals could be affected by it at times, even if they were less prone to it, with their lower levels of intelligence. It was still a big, glowing ball of thrall to them, even if they didn't have the smarts to understand the potential it held.

It happened when they were taking a quick break to rest and get some water. They couldn't keep walking forever, after all, but still, Lup would be cursing the decision to stop there for weeks to come.

They were swarmed, suddenly, by some creatures that Lup had no name for, but they were clearly dangerous, with their giant claws and teeth. And they were bearing down on their group with a quickness.

Lup immediately moved to create a line of fire between them and the creatures, which would at the very least slow them down.

"Come on!" She shouted, and grabbed Lucretia's hand to pull her along, while Lucretia grabbed for Barry's hand.

Running through the dark with humans who couldn't see in the dark was not how Lup had wanted this day to end, but hopefully their linked hands would keep the other two a bit safer. She kept hearing hisses and exclamations of pain from Lucretia and Barry as they landed a bit off, but they hadn't fallen down yet, so they must be okay.

And then Barry made a sound that was much, much worse than the earlier ones.

Lup turned as soon as she heard the choked gasp from her boyfriend, only to see that he had been impaled through the chest on the claws of one of those creatures.

Lup and Lucretia immediately began firing off offensive spells, and the creature was downed before long, but that didn't fix Barry.

Lup dropped down to her knees to grab him, trying not to look at the wound too much. She'd seen enough to know it was fatal anyway, so she'd rather not have it burned into her memory any more than it already was.

Lucretia stood behind them, watching for any more of those things, but so far none had appeared. She kept her hands ready to fire off a shield spell, just in case.

"Sorry," Barry managed to say.

"You weren't aiming for this to happen, were you?" she said, with a teary laugh.

"No. Would rather not be doing this, actually," Barry chuckled. "Don't recommend. Still sorry though."

"Just two months left," Lup said. "It'll be fine. I'll be okay, don't worry."

She wasn't sure which of them she was trying to convince.

"Lup! I see more of them!" Lucretia warned, starting to cast.

"You gotta go, Lup. Get the Light back to the ship. I'm not gonna last much longer; don't risk it for me," Barry said.

"I'm not just gonna leave you, stupid!" Lup said back.

"I'm sorry, babe. But you have to. I'll be okay, you know that. I don't want to get you or Lucy or this whole plane killed over me," Barry insisted, tone taking on a pleading note.

"I can't," Lup said, tears starting to slip down her cheeks.

It was the first time in a long time that she'd had such a hard time leaving when somebody was dying. It had been hard, at first, to accept that they would come back and that it was best to get yourself to safety, but they'd all come to relative terms with it.

But this was Barry. And it was the first time he'd died since they'd gotten together. And the thought of spending the next two months without him just killed her. What kind of person just left their boyfriend to die?

"Luce..." Barry turned his head. "Take care of her, please?"

"Of course," Lucretia agreed, her own voice a bit choked up as well, but still keeping her eyes on the approaching creatures. "We'll miss you. See you next cycle."

"See ya both soon," Barry assured them, and then he reached down and yanked the claw out of his chest, bleeding much faster now.

"No!" Lup screamed, but he was gone before she finished the word.

Lucretia moved then, grabbing Lup's hand and tugging her back toward the ship urgently.

Lup let herself be dragged along, but she didn't turn, staring back at Barry's body and crying.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Lucretia was murmuring as they ran, and Lup barely registered it.

They kept running, and eventually Lup stopped crying, but she still felt numb.

The creatures must have stopped chasing at some point, because they weren't behind them anymore. Maybe they'd only wanted a meal.

The thought of those things eating Barry made Lup feel sick, but she was too numb for the thought to sink in far enough for that.

Eventually, they slowed, and Lucretia wrapped an arm around Lup's shoulders in the closest thing to a hug they could safely allow themselves while they were still out in the dark with unknown, dangerous creatures everywhere.

Lup realized that Lucretia was still softly murmuring comfort to her, and she buried her head in Lucretia's shoulders and let herself be guided and comforted.

Lup barely registered it as they arrived at the Starblaster, but at least it was warm and bright in here.

Lucretia shouted for Taako, who arrived grumpily, but rushed to Lup immediately when he'd had a moment to take in the scene.

Lucretia extricated herself from Lup's grip, and Lup whined at that, until Lucretia pushed her forward into Taako instead.

"I'll take the Light to the lab," Lucretia said, softly, and Lup felt Taako nod in agreement.

Taako started to lead Lup to his room, probably understanding that she wouldn't be able to bear the sight of her room, that was now basically her-and-Barry's room most of the time. Lup appreciated it, because it was hard enough to just keep moving with the images running through her head on repeat.

She fell asleep that night curled around her brother, and it helped, but she knew that nothing would fix the whole in her chest until Barry came back. Maybe not even then.

#taz balance #blupjeans #blupcretia #lup adventurezone #lucretia adventurezone #barry bluejeans #taz lucretia #lup taaco #febuwhump #febuwhumpday4

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overdrivels · 4 years

Text

@romancedeldiablo just reminded me the entire cybersecurity/information security industry is having the greatest field days ever since this whole Covid-19 triggered a mass work from home exodus.

I have so much to say about it and all the security issues that are occurring. This mostly pertains to the US. This isn’t meant to scare anyone, they’re just food for thought and a bit of explanation about my industry.

PSA: Not all hackers are bad, just a reminder. There are very legitimate reasons for hacking such as compliance and research. When I talk about hackers here, I’m talking about the bad ones who are exploiting without permission and for malicious reasons.

The main thing about this whole working from home thing is that most organizations don’t have the infrastructure to support their entire workforce. Not every company uses Google Drive or OneDrive or DropBox.

This means that companies with on-premise servers, isolated servers or networks are screwed. Imagine trying to connect to your friend’s computer who lives on the other side of the world and controlling their mouse. Can’t do it. Gotta download something on both ends to do it. Now imagine that for 500 people at home who are trying to connect to a single server. You’d need to open that server/network up to the internet. That has its own risks because without controlling WHO can access the server, you’re basically allowing anyone (hackers especially) to go in and take all your data.

But then you ask, “Isn’t that what passwords are for?” BITCH look at your own passwords. Do you really think 500 people will have passwords strong enough to withstand a rainbow table attack or that the server won’t shit itself when receiving 500 connections from unknown locations by means of a not-often used method? Hackers only need to exploit one password (for the most part) while the company needs to ensure ALL 500 are protected. That’s difficult as all hell and if it were that easy, I wouldn’t have a job.

Then there’s shit like Virtual Private Networks (VPNs) and RADIUS servers that’ll secure the network connection so it can’t be hijacked and do authentication respectively. Here’s the problem. VPN solutions need to be downloaded on the client system (your computer). When your organization has very technically illiterate people, that becomes a nightmare. ‘Cause you have to set up their accounts on the VPN system and set the permissions for each of them so they can only access what they’re allowed to access otherwise Bob from sales now has access to the HR system with everyone’s social security numbers. It’s very time consuming and can get very complicated. Even worse is that VPNs often require licenses. When you only have 50 licenses and suddenly 500 people want access, you’re screwed. But you can always purchase more licenses, no problem. Here’s the rub. Suddenly, this VPN tunnel needs to accept connections from 500 people. This tunnel is only strong enough to accept 50 concurrent sessions. When 10x that amount get on, guess what? The tunnel shits itself and basically the company has DoS’d itself. Now no one can get any work done until IT figures out how to get 500 people on a system that’s only capable of supporting 50.

Fuck, almost forgot about RADIUS. There’s DIAMETER, too, but shut up about it. It’s an authentication system but depending on how it’s set up, you’ll have to also set up the users. That’s an extra step and it’s a pain in the ass if RADIUS somehow isn’t connected to AD and the user has different passwords and shit.

Not to mention hackers suddenly gaining access to all this information because they’ve already infected people’s home computers and routers prior to the work from home stuff. There’s very limited way for IT to control what happens on a personal computer, so these personal computers can have no anti-virus or security software. This means all data is in danger because someone decided Windows Defender is annoying. (Windows Defender is pretty great, btw.)

Physical robberies are occurring a little more because there’s no one to protect the stores and such. Physical security is taking a hell of a beating.

There’s been an increase in phishing scams around COVID-19. Unemployment sites are probably being (and probably already have been) hacked and the data is being stolen. I think there were some people who were creating fake unemployment sites to steal PII. There are e-mails going out to people saying stuff like, “Your computer has been infected with the CORONAVIRUS. Click here to clean it up.” And you’re wondering, “What sort of morons…?” Don’t. It’s very easy to give in to your panic. Hackers don’t hack computers solely. They hack into human emotion, into the psyche. Anyone can fall for their shit.

The thing with Zoom? Basically they’re so insecure, people are hacking them without issue. How? Because people are silly and put out links, chat logs are saved onto insecure machines that have already been hacked, there are a bunch of exploits available for Zoom, etc.

Healthcare organizations. Oh boy. So, we all know healthcare organizations are working their damnedest to save people suffering from COVID-19. Every second counts and any delay in that process could mean life or death. They work hard. Here’s the thing. There has always been a delicate balance between security and usability. Too secure and it’ll make it difficult for the end user to do their job. Usable without security just makes it easier for an attacker to do their job. Why am I talking about this?

Healthcare organizations usually hold sensitive information. Health information. Social security numbers. Birth dates. Addresses. Insurance information. Family member information. So much stuff. They are a beautiful target for hackers because all that shit is right there and it’s accessible. Healthcare organizations, by and large, do not put a lot of emphasis on security. That’s changing a bit, but for the most part, the don’t care about security. They do the bare minimum because guess what? Every additional control can add time to a doctor or healthcare worker’s routine. Computer lockscreen every 5 minutes? Now the doctor has to re-logon every 5 minutes. This adds about 15 seconds to their rountine. Multiply that several times over for every patient that comes in assuming a doctor will need to log in at least 3 times during a single visit. That can clock in at at least an hour throughout the day. A hour that they could’ve spent doing something else. So imagine more controls. Password needs to be reset. Need to badge in. Log into this extra program to access this file. Call IT because this thing locked them out. Each one of these normal controls now feel insanely restrictive. The ease of use isn’t there and so organizations might look at reversing these security controls, potentially making things even less secure than before in the name of efficiency.

Don’t @ me about HIPAA. I will start rants about how non-prescriptive and ineffective it is to actually get proper security implemented.

LOL @ internet service providers. Internet speeds are dropping due to the amount of traffic they’re getting. Commercial internet really wasn’t prepared for this. Those poor bastards.

Some organizations outsource their IT teams. Those people (Managed Service Providers aka MSPs) are not prepared for this nonsense. It’s popular now to go after these guys for hacking. An MSP usually works for multiple organizations. So, why try going after 50 organizations individually when you have just one organization with poor security controls managing everything from one place? You’d logically go after the one rather than 50. It’s easier.

MSPs are now overworked because they also have to work from home to connect to systems that can’t support so many people connecting to it on personal computers that the MSP can’t log into like they normally would to fix any issues. This makes them tired. What happens when you’re tired? You make more mistakes. And that’s exactly what hackers go after. Once they’re in the MSP’s system, the hacker can now potentially gain access to the 50 clients’ systems. Easy win.

Shadow IT and alternate solutions. This is another doozy. Imagine all your files and shit are on your company’s network. No one is able to access it because there isn’t any VPN or remote sharing system or FTP server set up for this stuff, but you still need to do your job. So, what do you do? Obviously, you start making stuff on your own computer using whatever you’re comfortable with. Google Drive. Dropbox. Box. Slack. That shitty PDF reader you downloaded three years ago and didn’t update.

Now imagine sharing it through things like your personal e-mail which may or may not have been hacked without your knowledge. Or maybe the recipient’s been hacked without anyone’s knowledge. Maybe your files are normally encrypted if they’re on the company network. Now you’re off of it and nothing’s encrypted. Maybe you forget it delete a file or 80 off of your system which has been infected. Or maybe you pasted shit on pastebin or github and it’s available to the public because that’s just easier. Now anyone searching can find it. This is how database dumps are found sometimes and they’re really entertaining.

Shadow IT putting in alternate solutions without the company’s knowledge is always a fucking nightmare. I get that people need to do their jobs and want to do things a certain way, but can you not be selfish and put everyone at risk because you decided your way or the high way?

That sounds awfully familiar…it feels like a situation that we’re going through right now…hey, wait a minute…

Long story short, this whole working from home thing opens up a lot of security issues. Most companies are ill-equipped to handle IT issues, let alone cybersecurity/information security/IT security issues, but because of that, we’re seeing a lot of interesting things happening. Such as finding out New Jersey’s unemployment system runs on a 60+ year old programming language.

Holy shit I can talk about this all day. I’ve definitely glossed over a lot of stuff and oversimplified it. If anyone wants me to talk about any specific topic related to this or cybersecurity or information security in general, drop an ask. I’m always, always more than happy to talk about it.

#drivels drivels #BACK ON MY BULLSHIT #EXCEPT THIS IS REAL LIFE BULLSHIT

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cinnaminsvga · 5 years

Text

fox rain | three

→ summary: When the love letter you wrote and submitted as an assignment is leaked to the entirety of your university, it becomes a race against time to dispel rumours and convince the seven suspected muses of the poem that they aren’t the subject before anyone realises that you are the author. Easy, right? Well… maybe not as easy as you think.

→ pairing: bts x reader (feat. namjoon) → genre: college!au, crack, fluff, angst → warnings: none unless you count overly graphic descriptions of how stupid namjoon is (oh and like... ant gambling rings??) → words: 15.7K → a/n: this is late by a month and my whole life is a joke. i hope this makes you laugh bc i made namjoon extra dumb for y’all (for no extra charge. suck it, chipotle.) also: check bio for other chapter links for now!

— • masterlist | prev | three | next • —

“This can’t be my fucking life. Can it?” you say to your own reflection, curtains of despair dripping from every inch of your visage. Your reflection stares back, the same dead eyes twitching imperceptibly from the lack of caffeine in your system. At this point, you wouldn’t be sane enough to be surprised if your parallel self would reply, perhaps with some scathing remark about how you were slowly losing your grip on your life. Not that it would be unwarranted, anyway.

After Hoseok’s explosion the other day, your weekend doesn’t exactly feel as exciting as it usually is. Of course, your mood is still a vast improvement from last week when you were out of commission for most it after your mental breakdown. Although, it doesn’t erase the fact that you’re still knee deep in shit and that you have no idea how you’re going to face Hoseok and Jimin the following Monday.

Damn. You could really use some coffee.

The day seems to be in much better spirits than you, and it would be a waste not to let the universe’s good mood try to make you feel better as well. There is a coffee shop just a block away, and maybe you could take a walk in the sunshine afterwards to help relax the dread consistently knocking at the back of your mind. It’s a little bit optimistic, but it’ll have to do.

Shrugging on a thin cardigan over some other semi-decent clothes, you step out of your stuffy apartment with a spring in your step. You didn’t bother with any of your usual morning ritual, seeing as how you don’t plan on meeting with anyone you know from university anyway. So what if your landlady Mrs. Park sees the bird’s nest on top of your head? Who is she going to tell? Her gang of old auntie friends all hate you already for wearing a “TRANS RIGHTS” shirt in front of them, so it’s not like you’re vying for their acceptance.

Other than your less than friendly neighborhood aunties, there are better old people to hang around anyway. Nearby the coffee shop, there is a senior home where you used to volunteer during your spare time until your other commitments forced you to give up your spot to some other benevolent soul. Since you have been meaning to visit the grandmas and grandpas there when you got some free time, you suppose it would be nice to talk to kind ol’ Ms. Kim today and listen to her recount her many youthful adventures (which is, more often than not, a euphemism for her various sexcapades in the 70s.)

The senior home is closer to your home than the coffee shop, so you choose to stop and gaze at the plain-looking white building with its neatly trimmed bushes and white picket fence. It looks out of place in the neighborhood, with its very suburban and Americana design, but you know it is only because the owner of the establishment had gotten her inspiration from Forrest Gump. She has a crush on young Tom Hanks, and you honestly can’t blame her for it; that man… he is a Man, with a capital M.

You’re in the middle of debating whether you should buy your coffee first before visiting the seniors when you hear a distant shout coming from within the house. Alarmed, you take a step back, almost falling on your ass and onto the sidewalk. You pause, tilting your head to try and peak over the fence and through the large windows that showed the reception area within. You recognize Hana, the receptionist, sitting by her desk in her usual green scrubs, her head bowed over a book as if the sound had not fazed her in the slightest.

“Am I crazy? Am I starting to hear things?” You wonder aloud, still staring at the innocent-looking home. Has the universe had enough with your lacklustre existence that it has caused you to hear nonsense? Is this only the beginning of your slow descent into madness?

You don’t have to fret over your sanity for too long because moments later, the shout repeats itself. Like the previous one, this one sounds just as pained and anguished, though you aren’t sure if it was a male or female who had screamed. For all you knew, the person might have either stubbed their toe or gotten a knife stabbed through their chest; it’s not like you spend time distinguishing the subtle nuances of tormented screams. However, you are more certain now that it had come from within the home, even though Hana has yet to react to the chilling noise. She flips to the next page, tired eyes squinting at the small text.

You are stuck at an impasse: do you go inside the home despite the possible danger of entering a secret cannabilist society of which your acquaintance has been initiated to, or do you turn around and go home where it is 100% more likely for you to survive the next 24 hours?

The choice becomes apparent to you, however, when a tall, lanky boy bursts out of one of the doors behind the receptionist, with his arms piled to the ceiling with dinner plates on the cusp of making their way to the floor. Even through the window and behind a fence, you can tell that he is in dire need of help, which Hana does not seem likely to extend. The mess of legs makes a beautiful display of himself, his lower limbs flapping about aimlessly as his body contorts to try and keep himself and the plates balanced.

Finally, after what feels like hours of torture watching the poor volunteer make a fool of himself, he manages to steady himself, his legs crossed together like he’s trying to hold in his piss. Carefully, he squats down, placing the plates on the floor in front of the receptionist desk. For a moment, you feel as though you should be applauding, for whatever reason.

Now without dishes obscuring his face, you can make out the identity of the flailing giraffe man. He turns, fingers combing through his distinctly colored hair––

Oh god. It’s him. You gotta get out of there, fast, before he recognizes you. Maybe if you run quickly enough, then maybe he won’t notice you when he looks out the window around.

“Ha,” the universe laughs, clapping their asscheeks to the rhythm of Ludacris’ Move Bitch Get Out Da Way™️ with a smirk. “Cute of you to think your life isn’t basically a 20-year long trainwreck in motion.”

Inevitably he turns around, his eyes immediately locking on your face despite being half-concealed by the fence. He looks confused for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a goldfish until he lights up, recognition flooding his features. Even though you cannot hear him clearly, you just know that he said something stupid, judging by the way Hana has finally looked up from her book to stare at him weirdly.

Please don’t come out and greet me. Please just let me wave at you awkwardly and for you to stay where you are. Please don’t go out and talk to me––

Your prayers go unanswered once more as he sidesteps the wall of plates, his hip just barely grazing it and almost causing it to tumble down. The pile sways precariously from left to right, miraculously staying put as he rushes out to greet you. You can only imagine the mess he’d have to clean up if it did, shards of cheap porcelain left behind in his awkward, fumbling wake.

Luckily (or unluckily for you), he makes it out of the senior home in one piece. He crosses the short path to the fence in two inhumanly long strides, slamming the fence door open with a wide swing. It smacks loudly against the railing, the hinges making a pained groan as it looks to be at the inch of its life––literally. You vaguely remember replacing the screws on it just before you left over six months ago… Surely you hadn’t done such a shoddy job? Although, you know that simply can’t be true. After all, you’re dealing with none other than destruction incarnate himself, Kim––

“Y/N!” Namjoon greets happily, his dimples deeper than you remember. You swallow heavily, trying your best not to sweat under his overly enthusiastic gaze. God, you should’ve gone straight to the coffee shop when you had the chance.

Nothing like facing disaster head-on, as they say. “Hey,” you reply half-heartedly, though the walking inflatable tube man doesn’t seem to mind your lacklustre mood. He grasps your hands for a shake, swinging your entire body up and down with the care of a man who does not know his own strength. You, his unfortunate victim, are left to suffer through his artery-bursting grip.

“Oh god, you have no idea how glad I am to see you! Not that I’m not normally happy to see you at university, but––” He speaks so quickly that it’s hard to keep track of the specific contents of his sentences, so you can only hope that your unenthused nods will be enough to placate the bumbling buffoon. You resign yourself to a fate similar to the bobbleheads on the dashboards of those white suburban soccer moms.

“Wait, hold on.” What on earth..? You are full on gaping at the piece of work on top of his head, not even pretending to be polite as you try to process what is in front of you. “What the hell happened to your hair?”

You know from old Facebook photos that Namjoon has natural black locks, though you can’t say that his wacky hairstyles were also inborn. Ever since you have known him, he has always dyed his hair a sandy brown color, complimenting his tan skin. Now, however…

“You mean the weird blue streaks?” Namjoon says, rubbing a few strands thoughtfully. His hair is a walking disaster, and this is coming from someone who has seen what Kim Seokjin has done to his clients. (There’s a reason his Yelp reviews are terrible… He deserves negative stars, if you’re being honest.)

“Did you lose a dare or something?”

“Uh… Kind of?” He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I had meant to change my hair color to something more exciting, so I asked the kids at the daycare and they suggested blue. Problem is, the seniors said they preferred my brown hair but I already promised the kids so… Here we fucking are,” he says in one breath, appearing as though what he said was obvious.

“So your solution was to compromise… by coloring half your hair blue, like some botched version of Death the Kid?”

“Exactly!” He beams, glad that you understand him perfectly.

Oh my god… He’s… No words are coming to you right now, but you get the picture.

The thing about Kim Namjoon is… he’s not… bad. Or dumb, for that matter.

Okay, not the best compliment out there, but it’s true. You’ve known for as long as you’ve been a university student, and your first meeting is certainly one for the books. You wouldn’t exactly consider him a “friend,” and an acquaintance is a bit of a stretch on most days, but he’s a nice guy. He’s eccentric in the most positive way, and not at all in the same chaotic and evil way that Seokjin is (for which you are thankful for.) It has always been a bit tricky to get close with him, as his head is always so far up in his work that it almost feels like he’s being reclusive on purpose.

If you ignore the fact that he has that odd propensity to volunteer himself in any job on the face of the earth (with him being unqualified 9 times out of 10), it is easy to see why people think so highly of him.

He is a scholarship student with a 4.0 GPA, is the youngest candidate to ever receive the university president’s yearly public commendation, and has already released two reputable mixtapes with high praise from critics nationwide. He’s nothing if not a prodigy, and he’s amassed a hefty following for his accomplishments. As a music major yourself, it’s hard not to be a little starstruck with him if you’re being honest.

Most of all, you remember the first song that you had ever heard from him: Moonchild. You still can’t quite believe he let you hear one of his many masterpieces when the two of you had just been total strangers. The lyrics had been so heartfelt, so intimate, that you felt as if you were intruding on his personal space or something. But he had let you listen, let you take a peek at what goes on inside that nebulous brain of his. When he does things like that, it makes it easy to understand why people might think your love poem might be about him. He’s just so… easy to admire.

The poem isn’t about him, but. It could have been, in some other life. (Or maybe it is.)

(Was.)

(Will?)

Regardless, you still have to convince him otherwise. You just simply aren’t ready for that type of development, much less with him. Despite all his good sides.

Thus, Kim Namjoon leaves you at a standstill. Why do you feel so fucking weird about harboring this idol crush on him? How can he be so dumb and so smart at the same time? He has blue fucking hair for crying out loud! He’s causing you cognitive dissonance just by existing, and it’s giving your meagre amount of brain cells a workout.

Oh shit, have you been ignoring him? You were totally zoning out this entire time, haven’t you?

Somewhere around the time you were having your mini mental breakdown, Namjoon’s mouth had stopped moving, giving you an expectant look. Oh shit. He probably asked you something. Embarrassed and unwilling to give away that you had not processed even a single word out of his mouth, you nod and give him an approximation of what you assume is a friendly smile.

For a second, you think that you might have gotten away with it when Namjoon’s face breaks out into an enormous grin. He grabs you by the shoulder and envelops you in an chokehold-like embrace. You let out a wheeze, clawing at his biceps with your remaining strength to try and prevent your untimely death due to asphyxiation. “Namjoon..?”

He lets out a shriek at a higher octave than you thought a man of his size was capable of. Somewhere out there, a dog probably perks up at the supersonic sound. “Y/N, I knew I could count on you! Thank you so much for agreeing to help me with the elders for Zombie Tea Time!”

Now that caught your attention. You pause in your squirming to fix him with a confused expression. “I’m… I’m sorry? What did you say?”

His smile never falters. He presses his cheek against yours, rubbing it happily with a hum. In any other scenario, you might have fainted from how adorable he was being, but seeing as how all your blood is still trapped in your upper extremities from his vice hug, it is difficult enough trying to remember how to stay alive.

“Every Saturday, the senior home hosts this event called Zombie Tea Time where the old people all get to have their faces painted with fake blood and all the volunteers have to pretend to be innocent civilians trying to get away from them!”

The more Namjoon speaks, the more you feel your sanity dripping out of your ass like diarrhea. “Ex. Excuse me? Say that again?”

“Yeah, it’s a new thing the volunteers are trying out this month,” Namjoon says, finally (finally) releasing you from his hug. You don’t know if your flushed cheeks are from embarrassment or a stroke. “Like I said, we’re a bit shorthanded today, so I’ve had to wash the plates from breakfast AND pretend to get eaten by senile zombies. It’s… a lot.”

“Oh, I can tell.” You grimace, patting him on the shoulder empathetically. You freeze. “Wait. So that’s why you were screaming a while ago?”

“Huh?” Namjoon pauses, before his face does something funny where it looks like he’s either going to sneeze or take a shit. Thankfully he does neither, but instead reaches his hand around his back like he has an itch he needs to scratch. He makes a pained yelp, plucking something out from his asscheeks and pulling out what appears to be––

You stare at the object in his palm. “Are those… dentures?”

“Hmm…” Namjoon stares at it, too tired to be disgusted. He just nods his head sagely. “Must’ve been when I was too slow to dodge Mister Lee’s lunge. I was beginning to wonder why my ass felt like it was being eaten out.”

“Please, never say that sentence to me ever again.”

“Yea,” he agrees, sighing faintly. He pockets the teeth much to your horror, patting it gently like he hadn’t just placed a pair of dentures in his fucking scrubs. He dusts off his hands, his lips pursed so that his dimples stand prominently on display. You barely contain yourself from sinking your finger right into their hypnotizing abysses.

He looks at you hopefully. “So… Uh. You said you’ll help me?”

Oh right. You fucking said you’d help him fend off a hoard of virulent old people in face paint.

You look to the right, where the coffee shop is just within sight. Sweet, sweet caffeine, tantalizing you with its saccharine presence, dangling its wretchedly addictive power over your head. If you breathe deeply enough, you think you can smell the coffee beans from here.

You turn back to Namjoon, and you can physically feel the weight of his hopeful gaze on your shoulders. Your defenses have never crumbled so quickly in your life. Fuck him and his stupidly handsome ass.

You sigh, resigning your fate to eternally being whipped for a pair of pretty long legs and size B man titties. “Let’s fucking do this, I guess.” Easier said than done, but you already have one foot in elephant shit, so might as well submerge your whole body as well.

You follow Namjoon closely, having to take two extra steps for every one step that he takes. He crosses the reception area quickly, sending energetic finger guns at Hana which unsurprisingly goes unrequited. You take the more inconspicuous route and wave shyly at her, intimidated by her even after you have long since stopped working here. She levels you with one of her infamous hundred yard stares, lips turned downwards as she appraises you.

“You’ve decided to come back?” she asks, leaning back on her chair with a huff.

Namjoon is in the midst of trying to once again carry all the plates in his Play-Doh arms, so you’re a bit distracted when you shake your head in response. “Uh. N-no, Namjoon just asked me to help with the dishes, that’s all.”

“That’s a shame,” Hana says, no trace of disappointment in her voice whatsoever. She returns to her book, buzzing open the double doors to let the two of you pass. She flicks her hand lazily at the commotion happening behind her. “Better hurry back in there. The seniors are getting antsy.”

The doors open automatically, and you almost topple over when you are immediately bombarded with the terrifying symphony of old people hollering obscenities at frantic volunteers trying desperately to get away from their gnarled clutches. The hoard hasn’t noticed the two of you yet, and you fear to wonder what type of horrors that you will have to face once you step through those doors. You absolutely refuse to die on this hill, not when you haven’t even had your first kiss yet.

“I don’t think we’ll die,” Namjoon says, as if he can read your mind. You look at him skeptically.

“You think?”

He clears his throat. “I can’t promise we’ll come out of this unscathed, though.”

He takes a tentative step forward, the pile of dishes wobbling dangerously on their perch. You are quick to steady the leaning tower of Disa(ster), managing to transfer half of it into your own arms. You grunt, adjusting your stance so that you do not accidentally lose your grip. “Dude. How the hell did you get all those plates out here in the first place?”

Namjoon stands up straighter, the weight significantly easier for him to manage now. He smiles cherubically back at you, eyes crinkling cutely. “Oh, I was literally on survival mode and trying to stop lil Mrs. Sun from gnawing my leg off. The elders can smell fear you see, so they were definitely going to climb on top of me like World War Z and probably kill me.” He pauses, deep in thought. “Although, I think I dropped a plate or two while I was escaping, so watch your step!”

He says all of that with the same eagerness as man who is about to do something crazy, like jump out of a plane or walk a tightrope over a 100 ft canyon. Though, you have to admit that this entire scenario feels like it is on the same calibre.

“Is it me, or are the old people here 10 times crazier than I remember when I volunteered here?”

“You used to work here?” Namjoon says, amazed. “Oh, I didn’t know that! I only started a week ago when some other person resigned due to mental health issues or something.”

“You sure that this place isn’t the cause of their mental decline?” You say it like a joke, though you mean it seriously. Maybe the universe had been looking out for you when decided to get out of this place.

“Hmm… Maybe. Although, we only received this shipment of old people fairly recently.”

Pause. Rewind. “S-shipment?” you repeat, staring at him wildly.

Like the lovable airhead that he is, Namjoon fails to notice your astonishment and instead takes the first brave step forward through the double doors. He tilts his head towards the hallway, gesturing for you to follow him. The plates rattle dangerously from his movements. “C’mon, we gotta get these plates cleaned before the lunch crew comes to take over their shifts!”

Walking to the kitchen is easier than you thought, especially after you take into account the fact that all the old people completely ignored you and chose to only attack Namjoon, for whatever reason. You like to think that it is because the seniors still remember you back when you were still volunteering here and that they hold some semblance of endearment for you, but Namjoon begs to differ. In fact, he screams out his hypothesis as to why you have been left unharmed, all while two older women climb his back like demented crabs.

“Y/N! I think they can’t attack you because you’re in civilian clothes! They only attack scrubs!” Namjoon says, swatting away one of the women off his back with a surprisingly coordinated headbutt. She shrieks as she falls, landing on all four legs like a cat would do. She hisses lowly at you, before scuttling off to somewhere unseen.

“Let’s hope you’re right,” you wince, watching Namjoon unsuccessfully trying to spin quick enough to dislodge the remaining senior.

Namjoon perks up when he catches a glimpse of his attacker’s face, giggling and appearing as if he isn’t currently being assailed by a senior citizen. “Oh, Ms. Kim! I didn’t see you there. I love the zombie make-up you got going. Who helped you?” He looks at you, as if imploring you to compliment her as well.

“Uh. Yes. You’re looking very… yellow.”

Ms. Kim snarls, baring her teeth. “It’s the jaundice,” she says.

Not wanting to stand in that hallway any longer, you carefully place the plates back on the floor before you gently unclamp the old lady’s talons from Namjoon’s poor biceps. You wince, feeling the length of her nails and knowing that Namjoon is going to have some nasty scars.

You tell him so, but he only shakes his head. “Nah? I think they’d be pretty neat! Battle scars are cool right?”

You grimace at him. “If that’s… what you think, then sure.”

After grabbing your plates and hurrying after him before the elders make note of Namjoon’s survival, the two of you share a sigh of relief as you both slowly start piling them into the dishwasher. The task is menial and repetitive, and despite what Namjoon’s earlier chattiness might have suggested, he is quiet while he works. The silence is not as awkward as you feared, and honestly the peace is a welcome respite after all the chaos that you had to endure in such a short period of time. Although, silence has never been a good friend to your overworked mind, as it allowed you to stew inside your own head for much too long––and you have found in your 20 years of existence that it is probably for the best that you are not left without external stimulation for too long.

But here you are, forced to do exactly that. You would have engaged in some conversation with Namjoon to stop yourself from getting in over your head, but you are afraid of what sort of embarrassing topics might spew out of your mouth if you do. Heaven forbid that you start geeking out on him about your unhealthy obsession of collecting miniature glass horse figurines––that is a secret best kept between yourself and the tentacle monster under your bed.

You begin reflecting on the events from the past two weeks, replaying them second by agonizing second and ruminating on the state that your pitiful young adult life has become. The more you allow these memories to simmer, the more you slowly realize the weight of the accumulated stress that has long since made you hunch over like a goblin.

Hoseok and Jimin’s argument comes to the forefront of your mind, the unexpected heat coming from both of them confusing you to no end. You still don’t know the source of their ire towards one another, but what baffles you the most is how you could have missed it in the first place. Sure, you had thought they were at least more than acquaintances; one does not simply challenge a near stranger to a dance off in the middle of a library three times a week, for more than two months and counting. Friends might have been a stretch, though you can’t say you’re familiar with how their schedules look like outside your tutoring sessions together.

The question is though… should you interfere? Normally, you would have stayed far away from anyone else’s drama––you just aren’t the type of person to stick their noses in other people’s business. Yet somehow, you feel as if your poem was the catalyst to this violent chain reaction, that you have inadvertently caused the foundation of a precarious building to explode and bring the whole thing crashing down. To think that your silly love poem for a boy who hardly knows that you exist has become the center of so many people’s lives… the entire thing is giving you a headache.

Speaking of headaches… you should probably confront Namjoon about the poem as well. It is probably best that you plan your approach better this time, seeing as how your two previous attempts have been anything but stellar. Namjoon can’t be that difficult to convince, right? And even if he does see right through you, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who would laugh cruelly at you in the event that he figures out that you are the author. Not like Seokjin, at least. Luckily no one is like Seokjin, the fucking rat bastard that he is.

(In the distance, Seokjin has the sudden animalistic urge to slip anthrax in your milk tea the next time he sees you.)

You glance at Namjoon from the corner of your eye, definitely not ogling the way his arms flex as he loads the final couple of plates. The breath catches in your throat when you realize that some time while you were busy swimming in your junkyard of a brain, he had rolled up his sleeves up to his forearms, displaying his god-like veins for the eyes of the deplorable (you) to feast upon.

Your mouth feels dry, even though other parts of you feel more moist than you remember. Oh god, now is not the time to remember how hot this fucking nerd is.

Despite the fact that your biological clock is screaming “HORNY HOUR” at your monkey brain, Namjoon continues to be thankfully unaware of your internal panic. He closes the dishwasher door shut, clicking it on with a relieved sigh. He gives you a megawatt smile and makes your heart leap into a somersault, probably knocking around some vital organs along the way.

“Thanks so much for the help, Y/N! Couldn’t have done it without you!” he cheers, clapping you roughly on the shoulder. You wheeze under the impact, waving away his concern despite feeling like your lungs have probably slipped out of your asshole.

“It’s no problem, Namjoon…” you sigh, gazing sadly as Namjoon begins to do a final sweep of the kitchen before inevitably going to sign off for the day. You know your window of opportunity has already closed, and if you had not spent so much time staring at his beautiful man tiddies, you are sure you could have been a little more productive with him. Curse him and his damn chest.

But now, at least you’ll have more time to think of how to approach him and bring up the poem when you aren’t, like, seriously decaffeinated and on the cusp of a heart attack. You are about to bid him farewell with your tail between your legs when his hands cup your cheeks, catching you off guard.

You splutter incomprehensibly, arms flapping about like a fish out of water. “Wha––?”

“Oh, I forgot to mention! After my hours here at the senior home, I have the afternoon shift at the daycare center near our university and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me?”

If Namjoon’s cool, large hands holding your face like a delicate flower had caught you off guard, then his sudden invitation only exacerbated the furious blush blooming across your neck like a rash.

So what do you say?

“Meep,” is what you say, like the verbose poet that you are. Y/N, renowned campus poet, has the vocabulary of a five year old.

“Is that a yes?” Namjoon smiles, letting go off you in favor of looping his gangly arms around your waist. Another unflattering noise escapes your throat at his proximity and his firmness. “That’s so great! The kids love seeing new faces, and I bet they’d love to have a pretty girl around instead of plain ol’ me all the time!”

You gape at him. Did he just say…

“P-pretty?”

“Yea, sure!” Namjoon says, his stupid grin still on his stupidly handsome face. He does not appear to be embarrassed at all by his brazenness, which is starting to make you think he is either a well-seasoned flirt or just plain oblivious to the implications of his own words. Knowing him, you wouldn’t put it past him that the latter might be the reason.

Compliments and unintentional flirting aside, you really did not feel up to another harrowing experience with Namjoon at one of his other volunteering stunts. You are but a woman in clown shoes, and even the most seasoned clowns must have their rest.

“Listen, Namjoon… I don’t think I can go with you. I have to go, uh,” you pause, your hamster brain working a mile a minute. “Water… my dog? No, I mean… feed my plant.” You cringe, mentally slapping yourself.

Namjoon, the sneaky bastard, hits you with his strongest and most potent puppy dog eyes in his arsenal. It was super effective! “Please, Y/N? I won’t take too much of your time! Just play with the kids for two hours and I promise to leave you alone!”

C’mon, Y/N. Focus. Are you the type of woman to break down her defenses for the wilful fancies of any man? You’re made of stronger stuff than this. Surely you can look him in the eye and tell him straight to his face that you would prefer to go home and rest on this beautiful Saturday than go frolicking with a bunch of snot-nosed children––

“Oh, sure. Why the hell not?” you say, like the dumb fucking idiot that you are.

Namjoon’s dimples deepen even further. You glare menacingly at them, knowing full well that they were entirely the cause of your weakness.

“Thank you so much, Y/N! The kids will really appreciate your presence! C’mon, we haven’t got time to lose!”

Namjoon does not even give you the time to fully comprehend your own pitiful existence before he nearly tugs your arm out of its socket as he maneuvers you to the local daycare just a few minutes away from the senior home. You don’t get to say your farewells to any of the seniors or your old work colleagues, but it might be for the best… You will need all the sanity left in your body to survive the rest of the day with Namjoon.

On the bright side, that means you’ll have the chance to talk to him about the poem, though you’re still hesitant to do so with how badly your previous stunts had ended up. But then again, when else would you get another good opportunity to talk to your crush acquaintance about this? You suppose you’ll just have to wait and see what happens next, and hope for the best.

You have been at the daycare for almost three hours now, and there are still no signs of you ever bringing up the poem. You might as well sign your last will and testament with the macaroni art supplies currently decorating your body, making you look like a morbid pasta dish monster from hell. You hope to god that the sticky stuff all over your skin is just cheese… White, rubbery scented cheese…

“Ain’t this fun?” Namjoon calls out from somewhere, presumably under the mass of ten or so toddlers all climbing him like a tree. You are caught in a state of déjà vu as the children start feasting upon any exposed areas of skin that their kid-sized incisors can find.

You just wanted to talk about the fucking poem for fuck’s sake! Instead, you have to deal with thirty 2-foot children and one 6-foot manchild during one of your only free days in a week.

A miniature demon tugs your sleeve, forcing you to tear your eyes away from Namjoon’s slow demise. You bend down to the little gremlin’s height, mouth twitching upwards in what you hope is a somewhat decent smile. Judging by the kid’s unimpressed face, you doubt it.

“Yes?”

“Miss Y/N? Can you tell your boyfriend that Jake peed in the ballpit again? Aera slipped on the puddle and now she’s crying and disturbing the younger kids.”

Record scratch, freeze frame. Now, we don’t have time to unpack all of that. Out of all the things the kid had said, you are sure that his implication that you were Namjoon’s girlfriend should not have been on the top of your list of priorities, and yet here you are, your cheeks as flushed as a baboon’s ass.

“He’s not––We’re not––” you stammer, waving your hands as you try to explain to this unenthused six year old that what she said was entirely impossible. “Namjoon is just a friend!”

You turn to look for the man in question, desperate for him to back you up when you realize he is no longer there. Confused, you leave the huffing child in search for him. You leave the main playroom and search the nearby nurseries, the kitchen, the bathroom… all of them with no Namjoon in sight. Just so you can cover all your bases, you decide to check one of the supply closets too, not really expecting to find anything except––

“Namjoon? What the fu––fudge?” You quickly correct yourself, noticing that not only is Kim Namjoon inside the cramped broom closet, but he is also surrounded by five other children huddled around what appears to be a series of tupperwares connected together by plastic straws.

Namjoon hastens a glance at you, before refocusing his attention back onto what he deems to be more important. He nudges his shoulder against the smallest of the bunch, stage whispering into her ear. “Jihyo, did you bet the three lollipops on Ant #3?”

Jihyo shakes her head, looking mildly offended. “Oppa, do you think I’m dumb? I bet all of my chocolate bars on Ant #6.”

Namjoon whistles lowly, impressed. “All-in? You’re one smart lady.”

You clear your throat. “Namjoon.”

Namjoon has the audacity to hold a finger up to silence you. “Give me a sec… Okay, Seungcheol. You said ten hard candies for Ant #2?”

“Namjoon. Are you seriously running a gambling ring in a daycare?”

He peers up at you, smiling sheepishly. “I’m, uh… Teaching them about capitalism.” He deposits the candy bets into his pocket before starting the timer on his phone. The children begin to cheer raucously, little fists pumping up as they watch their bets race towards a slice of cake.

“I can’t believe this,” you groan, wanting nothing more than the earth to swallow you whole.

Eventually, Namjoon exits the closet, gently closing the door. The shouts of the children become muted immediately. When you gaze inquisitively at him, all he does is shrug his shoulders. “What? Secret clubs allow people to explore their interests.”

At this point, you don’t really want to argue anymore. And so, the hectic day goes by, full of running after the children and occasionally having to reel Namjoon in when he does something bordering on negligence. The parents slowly start filtering in by five in the afternoon, most of whom pat Namjoon affectionately on the back and thanking him for his stellar daycare service.

“Oh, Namjoon! My little Jihyo absolutely adores you! She hardly wants to leave whenever I come to pick her up.” Jihyo’s mother smiles, slipping a small tip into Namjoon’s waiting palm. The little shit pockets it, bowing graciously at her.

“All in a day’s work, madame. I just love children, you know?” he says, sighing dramatically.

From behind her mother, Jihyo gorges herself on her prize winnings, shoving a whole packet of M&M’s into her mouth. She swallows them quickly when her mother turns to bring her home.

“I hate this,” you say to yourself, smiling through the pain.

“Oh, before I forget!” Jihyo’s mother dashes back inside, startling you. She approaches you, grasping your hands in hers and shaking it wildly until you can hear your joints pop out of their sockets. “Your name is Y/N right? Thank you for taking care of Namjoon, too. It’s so nice to see that he’s finally snagged a girl as pretty as you.”

It is a testament to how dead inside you truly are by how nonplussed you are by their unfounded accusation. At this point, they could congratulate you on your recent engagement to Namjoon and you probably wouldn’t bat an eye.

“Thanks.” All in a day’s work of being a madman’s little bitch for the day.

After the last child is taken away, your Saturday finally ends. There had been no poem discussion and no progress made; only your respect from one of your long-time crushes being whittled away like the soaps on those ASMR channels until you are left with useless cubes of Irish Spring scented granules.

On your way home, you pass by Seokjin sitting languidly on the bench outside the coffee shop that you had originally intended to go to this morning. The closed sign greets you impetuously, and your wounds are salted further by the sheer presence of the most annoying man on the planet.

Seokjin sips on his venti iced Americano, Gucci sunglasses tipped downward on his nose. An odd, high pitched windshield wiper sound escapes his lips, and you belatedly realize that he must be his version of laughter. “Y/N. So nice to see you. I’m guessing that you just came out of a… fishy affair?”

You grind your teeth, flexing forward with the intent of hitting the rat bastard. Fish crackers fall out of your hair in clumps from your movement. “I’ll eat your toes if you say another word about this.”

You say that, but you know that there will be photos of you out on Facebook by the time your head meets your pillow for the night, as you hear the telltale sound of a camera shutter go off as you limp sadly back home.

The following Monday, you resolve to talk to Namjoon during your History of Music class together.

Now normally, you would never subject yourself to sitting near Namjoon in class. No, it is not because of your debilitating crush, nor his eccentric personality, nor something unexpected like insanely toxic body odor (which he does not have, by the way. He always smells alarmingly like cotton candy.) In fact, nobody likes to sit near Namjoon, made apparent by the two row radius of empty chairs around him. As much as everyone adores and idolizes him for his talent, no one can stand his propensity to overachieve like the infuriating know-it-all that he is. His hand is perpetually up in the air, begging to be picked for recitation, always with something profound to say.

“Sir, I don’t think your notes are correct. From my research, that type of music would not have existed until the 1600s––”

“Namjoon,” your professor seethes, Powerpoint clicker clutched tightly in his fists. His left eyebrow twitches concerningly as he tries to calm his breathing. “I would prefer it greatly if you do not question the actual expert in this area, is that okay with you?”

Yeah. He is definitely not someone you’d want to sit beside.

Though, he really makes it hard not to want to be around him. Despite all the imperfect parts of his personality, Namjoon always looks like the cover model of what a perfect college boyfriend should dress like. Terrible dyejob aside, his hair is slicked back in a fashionable way, revealing his beautiful forehead for all of humanity to behold. He is wearing a fitted graphic tee under a denim jacket, with loose brown slacks that look good on his endlessly long legs. To top it off, his signature wire-frame glasses sit daintily on his nose, making him appear as smart as he is.

You are suddenly reminded of the true scale of your crush on him as sweat begins to build on your neck and down your backside. How the hell are you going to approach him now that you are perfectly aware of how good he looks? It is people like Kim Namjoon that remind you of this universal truth: attractive people only exist to cause the less fortunate to forget how to use their basic motor skills.

Focus. Remember how much of a crackhead he was last Saturday? Okay, retain that information. Remember how fucking stupid he is, and this will be much easier on your heart and your loins.

Taking a deep breath, you make your way to where he is seated, right at the front of the class. It is a long way down the auditorium to where he is, and you can feel the stares of a few of your classmates as you make the treacherous journey right into the proverbial lion’s maw. You do your best to ignore them, quietly sliding up next to him and waiting for him to notice your presence.

From the corner of your eye, you can see that he is jotting something frantically on a notebook, a mess of words in more languages than you can speak decorating every available space on the smooth white pages. At the top of the paper, you can see what might be a tentative title for a song, perhaps? You can’t be too entirely sure, as Namjoon is part of so many clubs and organizations that he might as well be writing next week’s lunch menu for the cafeteria.

(Highly doubtful as Namjoon has a reputation for allowing inflammable things to catch on fire, but you wouldn’t put it past him to at least try and apply for a culinary position.)

It seems that Namjoon is too immersed in his writing to greet you himself, so you have to be the one to steel yourself and strike a conversation with him instead.

“Uh. Hey… Namjoon?” Smooth like butter. Seokjin would be proud.

Namjoon doesn’t reply. He keeps scribbling along, humming something indistinct under his breath.

You clear your throat. “Namjoon?”

No response. Again, “Hello?” You wave a hand in front of his face. His blinking slows for a second, but he continues to ignore you.

Starting to get pissed off, you huff quietly to yourself before bringing your palm backwards and slapping him upside the head. “HEY PANINI HEAD! YOU FUCKING IN THERE OR WHAT?”

That manages to bring him out of his headspace, thankfully. “Huzzat?” Namjoon jumps, cradling the back of his neck gingerly as he stares at you, confused. Recognition filters through his eyes as he realizes belatedly what had just happened. He blushes slightly. “Oops.”

“Oops is right. Were you really going to ignore me for the rest of the class if I hadn’t slapped you?”

Namjoon shrugs, grinning in that cute goofy way that he does. “Sorry. ‘M not used to people sitting beside me, is all. Glad to have a friend in this class though! Have you always been in this class?”

“Yea, but I usually sit in the back.”

Namjoon nods, turning back to his notebook. “Sorry for ignoring you. I really didn’t mean it. When I’m in the middle of writing, it’s kind of hard to get me out of my own brain. Plus, this draft is due in two weeks and I’ve scrapped three pages worth of lyrics already… I’m kind of in a panic right now.”

You peek over his arm, trying your best to decipher some of his words. Your interest is piqued, always having wanted to see his draft notebook ever since that first time he showed you Moonchild almost a year ago. “Lungs have capsized… I am drowning in my own body… Wow, those are some dark stuff.”

“You think so?” Namjoon squints at his own messy handwriting. “I got inspired by the fish in the aquarium I volunteer in. I’m actually excited to go back there, because I want to play it for the fish and see if they like it.”

“Isn’t it better to play it at the daycare of senior home so you can actually get… human feedback?”

Namjoon gasps, hand to his heart, offended. “How dare you assume that fish can’t give quality feedback!”

“Right,” you cough, raising your hands in defeat. How dare you, indeed. “Sorry.”

Namjoon sniffs, closing his notebook just as the professor walks in to start the class. “You better be. The fishies get really offended when people say stuff like that.”

The professor begins the moment he sets down his things, so you know you won’t have time to bring up the poem, not when Namjoon is already starting to fall into his overachieving know-it-all student persona. You tap him lightly on the shoulder, gaining his attention.

“Hey, I have to ask you something later after class. Will you stay behind for a few moments?”

“Sure,” Namjoon replies cheerily, flipping on his laptop to start taking down notes. He stops in his tracks before gazing warily at you. “Hold on. If this is about the fishies again…”

You have to resist the urge to roll your eyes, so you sigh instead. “No, Namjoon. This isn’t about the fishies.”

Appeased, Namjoon returns to listening attentively to the professor drone on about dead musicians and their impact on musical culture. You hardly take any notes, still nervous about talking to Namjoon about the poem. What would be the best way to approach the subject, you wonder? Your previous attempts with Seokjin and Hoseok had featured a lot of yelling and arguing, and you would prefer not to leave a bad impression on Namjoon of all people. Additionally, you don’t want to know what arguing with Namjoon would entail, because you have a strong feeling that any debate with him will only leave you second guessing your entire existence with how good he is at flipping the subject. Or, you could always kick him in the knees, but that would be like overpowering a baby––you’d be a monster for taking advantage of him.

The short one hour lecture flies by quicker than you would like. To your surprise, Namjoon only interrupts the professor twice, so you suppose that’s a win for everyone else.

“Alright class. Please remember that the research paper regarding 17th century music is due on the Friday before your break,” your professor says. He points a stern look at all of you, and maybe you’re imagining it, but somehow you feel like he pauses just a second longer when he passes his gaze over you. “And please, try not to send your paper to the entire student body to air your secret little crushes like a bunch of lovestruck idiots.”

Your ears turn an unflattering shade of red as most of the students chuckle at his little joke, all of them probably not knowing that the lovestruck idiot was just a few seats away.

“C’mon, Namjoon.” You sigh, shrugging on your backpack as you wait for him to finish packing up. Namjoon watches you curiously, brows furrowed.

“You seem dejected. Are you having trouble with class? Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“N-not… not really,” you say, shaking your head. “Can we talk about this outside? People for the next class are starting to come in.”

Namjoon follows you dutifully from behind, and you can hear him bid his farewells to a few giggling freshmen as the two of you exit the lecture hall. They coo openly in his presence, with one of them bold enough to compliment his fairly generous bosom, her fingers twitching as if she is only one push away from grabbing them by the fistful.

You walk towards the small cafe near the entrance of the building, grabbing one of the empty chairs and gesturing for Namjoon to sit across from you. He does as you say, confusion still gracing his handsome features.

“So, will you tell me why you’ve called me out here now?” Namjoon asks. Before you can respond, however, he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a half squished sandwich. He offers you the less crushed half, like the gentleman that he is, but you find it hard to accept when you feel like your stomach is turning inside out with nerves.

“Umm… How do I say this…” You groan, leg bouncing so incessantly that the poor table begins to shake. Namjoon doesn’t even try to stop his other sandwich half from sliding over, instead giving you a concerned glance.

Fuck it. Better to rip the band-aid off in one swoop, right?

“Y/N––?”

“Namjoon, are you aware that people think someone wrote a stupid love poem about you?”

His previously open mouth clamps shut, then. He stares at you in confusion, a dollop of mayonnaise hanging off his jutting chin. “What?”

Panicking slightly, you’re quick to continue your train of thought, probably to your own detriment. “NOT that the poem is about you, by the way. Well, it could be? No? I DIDN’T WRITE IT!” Pause for heavy breathing. “A-anyway, that’s not the point… I just wanted to ask if you were… umm… aware of it. Yeah. That’s it.”

Ohhhh my god. You stupid idiot. Fuck fuck fuck fuck you fucking stupid piece of shit ass tit fuck what other swear words are there oh yeah FUCK!!!

In the midst of your personal mental beatdown, you fail to see Namjoon’s genuine look of confusion, his head tilted to the side as he watches your face turn red. He chews on his sandwich thoughtfully. “Uh? No? I’m not aware? I really have no idea what you are talking about, Y/N.”

You finally stop swearing at yourself. “Wait, really?”

Namjoon nods his head. “Really. What poem are you talking about?”

“Please tell me you’re joking. I don’t really like being teased; I get enough of that from Seokjin.”

“No, I’m serious!” Namjoon raises his hands in surrender. “I wouldn’t joke about something that is clearly giving you distress.”

“It’s not causing me distress!” You screech back, voice cracking from your tone going up a pitch. You clear your throat. “Um. Wait. So that means you haven’t heard about the huge rumor going around about a love poem being about you?”

He shrugs his shoulders, lips pursed. “Not a clue. Am I supposed to?”

Huh. You stare at the imbecile before you, his previously handsome looks starting to look less appealing by the minute. Is this shithead for real? Did you really spend hours worrying over how you would approach him about the poem, only to find out that he has no clue what you’re talking about? Like, how is it even possible for him not to know? You can’t even spend a minute doing anything without someone bringing up that stupid mistake of a poem. How the hell did you ever have a crush on him?

“Pardon? Did you say crush something?”

“Oh shit,” you curse, slapping a palm to your mouth. Did you fucking say that out loud?

“Sorry,” Namjoon swallows thickly, a large bite of his sandwich visibly going down his gullet. “I was chewing too loudly so I didn’t hear you properly.”

You heave a sigh of relief. Okay, maybe being an idiot has its benefits.

“It’s fine. It wasn’t anything important,” you say, already arranging your things to get up and leave. If Namjoon is oblivious to all the poem shenanigans that have been circling campus, then who are you to inform him? All you can hope now is that he remains ignorant of the poem at all, and chalk it up as a success in your book. It’s not like he’s going to be curious to find out more anyway––

“Wait! Don’t go! You’ve piqued my interest now. I wanna know what you were talking about,” Namjoon pipes up, leaning his lanky body sidewards so as to block you from leaving. You halt in your movements, surprised by his sudden inquiry.

Sweat starts to form in the middle of your back at his earnest curiosity. “I––it’s nothing, Namjoon. I was just messing with you. Don’t worry about it.” You laugh nervously.

“I don’t think you were?” Namjoon rubs his chin thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t have been so adamant to call me out here just to be joking.”

“Listen, I really have to go. I have another class soon and I wanna grab lunch before I––”

“You said something about a poem.” He remains undeterred, pulling out his phone. “And it’s about me? Well, not about me, if that’s what you’re saying…”

“Hold up!” You snatch his phone out of his hands, holding it behind you to keep it from his reach. Even though you know his inquisitiveness is not his fault, it doesn’t stop you from wanting to punch him square in his cute little nose. Hell, you don’t recall wanting to fight anyone as much as you do right now.

(Seokjin sneezes somewhere in the distance, feeling offended for whatever reason. “Y/N should only be punching me,” he thinks to himself as he dumps way too much purple dye on this poor lady’s head.)

“Why are you being so weird right now? Give me back my phone!” He pouts at you, not at all knowing that your resolve is already quickly crumbling before him.

“I…” You gulp, foot tapping restlessly as you try to think of what to do. “Okay. Fine, I’ll show you the poem. Just… don’t read too deeply into it, okay? It’s just a stupid thing that got too many people excited over nothing.”

“Sure,” Namjoon nods his head, acquiescing quickly. “I don’t really like paying attention to much of the rumors and trends that happen on campus. I just want to see what this poem is all about.”

“Just… don’t let it get to your head,” you mutter, returning his phone to him. You direct him to the university confessions group page, watching as his fingers fumbled with his keyboard. Eventually, he gets to the post (pinned to the top, forever mocking you for your stupidity) and reads the short piece in record time.

There is a pause where neither of you speak. You know he has finished reading it from the way he has started to scroll down to the comments, though he quickly jumps back to the top when you glare at him to stop. He leans back into his chair, closing his phone and stares at you expressionlessly.

You click your nails across the coffee shop table as you observe him suspiciously, his lack of response making you more nervous. “Well?”

The left side of his mouth quirks up––but not in a way that might suggest glee or satisfaction––and he stays frozen like that for a bit. You have the sudden urge to wave your hand in front of him to check if he’s fine, and being the type of person to submit to your urges, you do as you please.

Thankfully, he snaps out of it, blinking quickly as if he’s forgotten that you were there. He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Oh, yeah. The poem, uh… How do I put it…”

“What?” What on earth could he have a problem with? Does he genuinely think the poem might be about him? “If you’re starting to think that the poem may be about you––”

“No, no, that’s not it.” Namjoon opens his phone again, peering at the poem questioningly. “I was just going to say that this poem is a lot less impressive than you were hyping it up to be.”

Excuse me??????? He did not fucking just say that.

“You did not just fucking say that,” you verbalize, glowering at him. You can feel the fumes start to steam out of your ears, but Namjoon remains oblivious (as per usual) to your emotions. He just hums, shrugging his shoulders with his nose upturned in the air, as if he had just smelled something horrible.

“It’s just… the meter is all messed up… Like, I’m all about free verse or whatever, but I can tell the author is trying waaaay too hard to keep whatever rhythm they had going on in the first verse.” He scrolls through the poem some more, before stopping somewhere in the middle. He shows you one of your favorite verses with a look of something akin to disdain. “And what’s up with all the moon references? That theme is so overused.”

“YOUR MIXTAPE LITERALLY HAS A SONG CALLED MOONCHILD! THAT’S WHY PEOPLE THINK THE POEM IS ABOUT YOU!” You explode, spittle flying everywhere from the force of your shout. A group of freshmen sitting nearby jump up in surprise, though most of the older, more dead-eyed college students do not even bat an eye at your spectacle. This university is full of cuckoos, is what they are probably thinking.

The biggest cuckoo of them all looks at you defensively, frowning somewhat irritably. Namjoon continues, “Yeah, but I used the moon in my song in a classy way! I would be offended if someone would write this poem for me after being inspired by my song.”

Is it possible for blood to boil inside your veins? Because you’re really starting to feel heat trail up your back up to your neck, causing you to see nothing but red and the tantalizing vision of your hands around his neck. Easy, Y/N. You can’t afford anger management therapy; you have a tuition to pay.

In all seriousness though, you cannot take this any longer. You have suffered long enough while having to follow Namjoon around like a bitch for two days, and if karma still wants to use the strap on you, then she’s going to have to do it some other day because you cannot physically stand being around Namjoon for another ten seconds if you can help it. And this is coming from someone who is around Kim Seokjin at least twice a week, so it is obvious that your patience and sanity is truly at its limit.

“I’m done.” You are barely able to keep yourself from slamming your head against the table. Instead, you stand up hastily, chair legs screeching against the tiled floor. You shoulder your bag quickly, waving at him without even turning to face him. The sooner you get away from him, the better. “You can think what you want. Just live your life, man. I’m done.”

“Okay? Well, have a nice day, Y/N!” Namjoon calls out a cheery goodbye, though his tone obviously still sounds confused even as you walk further and further away from him, a trainwreck of a human being. You resolve to yourself to call Hana the next morning to ask her to slip some opened sweets into his jean pocket so the ants at the daycare might climb out of their shelter to bite him in the balls.

How did you ever have a crush on that bastard? I guess that mystery will have to remain… unsolved.

Unluckily, your mood does not improve after lunch, nor do you calm down after your next class either. In fact, you are still steaming when you arrive to your tutoring session with Hoseok, so much so that you have completely forgotten to be worried about him after the events of last Friday.

(Record scratch, freeze frame. Pause. What the hell happened last Friday again? Your overworked brain cells can only handle one stressful event at a time, so you suppose that problem with Hoseok and Jimin will have to be solved another day.)

Hoseok, the caring boy that he is, also forgets to retain his moodiness from Friday’s argument when he spots you looking like you were about to pop a blood vessel at any moment.

Hoseok sits hesitantly in front of you, even placing his textbooks gently onto the table as if any sudden sounds might cause you to self-combust and splatter your guts all over the library floor. The only thing really keeping you from doing exactly that is because you wouldn’t want poor Jungkook the library assistant to have to clean up your mess.

“Umm… Hey, Y/N. You okay? You look kind of… red.” Hoseok says carefully, smile twitching on his face.

The suddenness at which you slam your hands on the table causes not only Hoseok, but also Jungkook who is three whole bookshelves away, to jump up in surprise. The former makes a terrified scream to accompany his leap into the air, staring at your frantically with his fists held up in defense.

“AHH? Y/N, what’s going on––”

“SHUT UP!” You point a finger menacingly at him, making him shriek once more. Your jaw is clenched, teeth grinding audibly. “YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT, HOSEOK? I’LL WRITE THE NICEST POEM IN THE ENTIRE WORLD FOR YOU, OKAY? YOU DESERVE IT! FUCK WHAT ANYONE ELSE THINKS! I’M A GOOD WRITER AND NOTHING KIM NAMJOON SAYS WILL CHANGE THAT!”

Hoseok’s mouth opens, agape. He doesn’t know how to respond, not quite understanding what you were saying in the first place. A lot of angry words spilled from your lips in such a short amount of time, and Hoseok was more impressed with your flow than anything. Were you a rapper, by any chance?

Unaware of Hoseok’s musings, you huff loudly to yourself, slamming open your lecture notes and shoving them aggressively towards him. “ALSO, I TOOK THE LIBERTY OF WRITING A REVIEWER FOR YOUR MIDTERM! PLEASE READ THROUGH THEM IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS!”

“Umm… Thanks?” Hoseok says, not really sure which part of your loud declarations he is specifically thanking you for. He sneaks a glance at the front desk, thankful that it is only meek little Jungkook in charge today and not the cranky older librarian who already has a personal vendetta against you and your tutoring group for being public nuisances (not that she was unjustly pointing fingers, of course).

Your mental collapse aside, the rest of his tutoring session goes smoothly, with Hoseok still walking on eggshells around you just in case you might feel like exploding again. You know, for fun or something. Although, he does end up asking if he can leave a few minutes early, saying something about a paper due at the end of the week. The excuse doesn’t make you bat an eye until Jimin arrives for his own session, his grin faltering when he sees his hyung not there to greet him with their usual dance battle in the library.

“Ah… Guess Hoseok-hyung really is still mad over what happened…” Jimin sighs, slumping into his chair. He thumbs his textbook thoughtfully, tongue sticking out like a puppy.

“I’m sure it’ll blow over soon,” you say hopefully, though your heart isn’t quite in it either. Coughing awkwardly, you pluck his textbook out of his hands, desperate to talk about something else other than your crumbling interpersonal relationships. You pause at the page, however, before staring incredulously back at Jimin.

“Jimin.”

“Hmm?” Jimin is still listless, head pillowed by his arms on the table. “What?”

“This is a book on differential calculus. I’m supposed to teach you about writing academic essays.”

“Oh yeah,” Jimin sighs, closing his eyes. “I stole that book from some freshman on the way here. The English textbook I usually bring is with Taehyung right now.”

You pause. Actually, now that you think about it… “Jimin, do you actually even go to this university? What the hell is your major, even?”

“Wha-?” Jimin yawns, fanning his mouth with his hand. He blinks sleepily at you with a big, doofy grin. “Sorry, I played MapleStory for hours last night and I haven’t gotten much sleep. Can I just sleep during this session? I’ll still pay you or whatever…” he trails off, stretching like a cat under a patch of sunlight. Before you know it, the soft sound of Jimin’s snoring fills the silence.

Thankfully, Monday ends without much more commotion. You may have come out of this experience a little bit more broken inside, but hey! That’s what character development is all about, babey. You are just glad that Tuesdays are usually your quietest days, as you only have two classes to worry about. It is also one of the days when you have Creative Writing with Sera, who usually manages to rope you in to get greasy fast food after class. Despite the traumatic experience that particular class has indirectly inflicted upon you, your usual zeal and excitement does not diminish in the slightest. After all, writing will always be your first love, so there isn’t any way some silly poem mishap will make you detest it.

Hopefully nothing else will go wrong, because you aren’t so sure your sanity can take much more of a pounding.

(Fwip. Do you hear that? That’s the sound of karma putting on her strap.)

“Alright class, see you guys on Thursday. Don’t forget that we have a quiz at the beginning of class on Thursday, so please don’t be late.” Professor Puth says, his eyelids blinking out of sync. You hate to be someone who assumes what other people do during their off days as it is none of your business, though the perpetual cloud of marijuana that clings around him can only do so much to mask what his recreational activities might be.

“Dude, I think Prof Puth is finding Nirvana soon,” Sera says loudly, earning the giggles of a few classmates nearby.

“I’d be surprised if he could even find the exit of this building,” you snort, just as the man in question trips over air and nearly faceplants on the ground. Like the model students that you are, you both pretend to be busy doing something else, leaving some other poor soul to help your professor.

Two girls that you vaguely remember from somewhere approach Professor Puth. They are quick to help him straighten up, if his groaning and gasping are anything to go by. He thanks them gruffly and waves them off, but the girls seem adamant to stay put.

“Professor, I have a question…” One of the girls asks, nervously tugging on her ponytail. Her friend giggles surreptitiously beside her, urging her to continue. Their odd demeanor causes signals to go off in your brain, telling you to stop and listen. You tug on Sera’s hand, halting her from leaving.

“Wait. I wanna hear what they’re gonna ask,” you mutter, ignoring Sera’s complaints about being hungry. She can wait for her McNuggets for another five minutes, no matter how much she pretends that she’s starving. You had seen her eat two whole burritos before coming into class today.

Professor Puth raises his brow. “Yes? What do you need?”

“We were just wondering if you could… tell us anything about the identity of the author from that poem?” The girl manages to get all of it out in a rush, cheeks flushed as her friend nods fervently beside her.

“Yea, Prof! We’ve been dying to know! The suspense is killing us, knowing that the mystery author is in one of your classes!” The other girl continues, glittery excitement practically exuding out of her in waves.

Professor Puth sighs, leaning heavily on his desk. He appears about as done as you feel. “Listen… You can badger me all you want, but there’s no way I can tell you. Privacy laws prevent us from sharing information like that without prior consent, even though that student in question might have accidentally sent her assignment to the entire school.” You might be imagining it, but you think Professor Puth points you with a knowing look. You gulp, hastily bowing your head and pretending to fiddle with your phone.

“Aww, Prof! It’s been days and the university hasn’t shut up about it! Surely one of the theories on who the author and muse are must be true, right? You can tell us that, at least.”

You can’t bear to keep listening any longer, though Sera has started to become more interested in the conversation as it progressed. “Wait, wait… I wanna hear the Prof’s opinion,” she says, grinning despite your nails digging crescents into her arm as you try to pull her away.

“No can do! Remember, I have your freshman Halloween pictures saved on a harddrive, and you wouldn’t want me to accidentally send that to the entire student body as well, would you?”

That manages to snap her out of it. Quickly, the two of you leave the lecture hall and away from possible discovery by your poem-frenzied classmates. You are also relieved to be able to breathe in fresh air once more, after being stuck in that class surrounded by liberal art students for two hours. You always do feel a little bit more relaxed after class with Puth, although that might just be from all the secondhand drug use.

Perhaps the fumes really did dull your reflexes, as it takes a while before you realize that Sera has been nudging your shoulder.

When you finally glanced at her, there is a sneaky grin on her face: never a good sign. “So,” she begins, a singsong quality in her voice

After having been her friend for long enough, you have become adept at telling what Sera is going to say next. Call it intuition or whatever, but you like to think of it is a self-defense mechanism. As much as she is your friend, she does love digging into your personal life like it is the cover story of some shitty tabloid. You have to prepare yourself to be interrogated.

“You’re going to ask about the poem, aren’t you?”

Sera rolls her eyes, like you shouldn’t have even asked. “Duh, of course I am. What else would I want to talk about?”

You shrug your shoulders, pretending to think. “I don’t know. Maybe you could have asked ‘Hey, Y/N! How’s your mom been? Have you been eating and drinking well?’ You know, like a normal person.”

“Well, firstable, your mom is literally my friend on Facebook and I saw her go out to that bougie high tea place with Jennie’s mom the other day, so I know she’s fine,” Sera says as the two of you round a corner, heading closer to the parking lot where her car is. “And secondable, you don’t fucking drink water, because you like pretending to be a dehydrated piece of jerky.”

“I just like drinking apple juice, okay? Water is weird,” you say defensively, kicking a pebble as you walk.

“Nah, you’re weird,” Sera counters, ever the creative debater. She remains undeterred, however. “So. Any updates on the poem situation or am I going to have tickle the details out of you?”

You groan, pushing her away from your sensitive sides. “Please don’t… I have no upper body strength and I won’t be able to push you off!”

“That’s the point.” Sera laughs, pinching your cheek. She snatches her hand away, only narrowly escapes getting bitten by you. “Why don’t we skip my torture methods then and go straight to the juicy bits? It’s been ages since I’ve seen you!”

“What if nothing has happened since I last saw you?” You grumble, miffed that she really isn’t letting it go. You just want to have one relaxing day, is that too much to ask?

Apparently, it is. Relaxation is a rare commodity these days. Sera snorts, patting you condescendingly on the back. “Nonsense. You’ve got that post-mental breakdown glow around you. You look absolutely radiant with stress!”

The conversations pauses for a bit when you make it to the parking lot. You don’t have to walk too far, as her car is parked relatively close to the exit, which is just another display of how lucky Sera often is in comparison to you. While your unfortunate plebeian ass is busy drowning in shit, Sera is off somewhere aboard a yacht, getting a massage from some Instagram thot.

She hops into the driver’s seat, waiting for you to put your seatbelt on before backing out with one hand on the wheel. “McDonalds?” she asks, though it is pretty much a given that is where you are going. The last time you both tried diverging from your usual hang out spot, you got intense food poisoning from eating at Chipotle. Sera came out completely fine though, that lucky bitch.

She continues her questions on the drive there, and you relent by telling her most of what has happened to you over the past few days. You gloss over the argument between Hoseok and Jimin, not really wanting their spat to suddenly go viral on Facebook as well. Everything else, however––

“Wait, so you talked to Kim Namjoon? The Kim Namjoon? The Namjoon that you had an embarrassing crush on during our first year?” Sera laughs maniacally, almost driving off into the wrong lane. Luckily, you are quick to latch onto the wheel, saving the two of you from becoming roadkill.

“Watch where you’re going!”

“No, but Y/N! That’s literally so fucking funny!” Sera’s laughter has simmered to a giggle, despite the fact that she is still trying (and failing) to furtively glance your way when you hit a stoplight. “Is he like how you remember? God, do you remember how you were after you first met him? All starstruck because your senpai showed you a draft of his single? ‘Oh, Sera! He has the most amaaaazing flow! I’m going to suck his di––’”

“Shut up!” You whine, slapping her in embarrassment. “Believe me, that crush has died, along with any respect I may have had for him. Men are scum, and I’m going to only date girls from now on.”

“Fine by me! More dick to suck for me, I guess.” Sera teases, whistling innocently. Bold of her to assume that there is any innocent or pure bone in her body; you’ve seen her thirst tweets and no amount of holy water can cure the disease that your vision must have sustained.

“I just want the rumors to die down… It would make my life way more bearable.” You murmur to yourself, sliding down your seat.

Sera is silent for a while. The McDonalds is just within sight, so Sera waits until she has finished parking before she turns to face you fully, uncanny sincerity in her expression. It unnerves you how serious she is, not when you know that this is the same girl who would snort sugar packets if you bet her $5. She places her hands on your shoulder, fixing you with a meaningful look.

“Listen, Y/N. I know all of this is tough right now, but I’m sure it’s going to be alright, okay? The rumor is going to die down soon enough, and everything will be back to normal. Stay strong for now.” Her voice is soothing, sympathy dripping from every word. As mortifying as it is to admit, the tears flow down your cheek effortlessly; perhaps it is the consequence of having to bear this burden on your own for so long without anyone actually telling you that it’s going to be alright.

“Thanks… I think I needed that,” you say after a while, sniffling just a bit. Sera grins fondly at you, wiping your tears.

“No need to thank me. I may be a chaotic shithead, but I’m also your friend.” She unbuckles her seatbelt, gesturing for you to do the same. “C’mon, let’s go in. I’ll even share my nuggets with you.”

Despite her best efforts at comfort, you still feel a little bummed. You allow yourself to wallow in your self-pity for a bit, as McDonalds is a prime location to feel shitty about your life choices anyway. The heart attack inducing food, the barely hygienic facilities, the minimum wage high school employees… Nothing else screamed “I’d rather be dead but it could also be worse” quite like Mickey D’s often did.

You wait by one of the booths while Sera goes off to order for the both of you, leaving you with her phone and other belongings. She promises to let you eat four out of the twenty nugget pieces, which is asking a lot considering who you are dealing with. Sera could probably eat sixty nuggets if she so desired, but only stops herself so she can be physically well enough to continue being a thot. Chasing men all day requires physical fitness, or so she says.

When you go to place her things on the other side of the booth, you notice that Sera had accidentally left her phone unlocked. You can see that she had been previously looking at one of those popular forum sites for your university, where most of her repertoire of gossip is usually sourced from. You aren’t usually the type to frequent those types of pages, with good reason too. That exact forum is the reason of your current stress, where your most private thoughts and feelings were revealed for all to see. Any sort of positive opinion you might have had for that site was immediately dashed the moment that cursed poem was released into the wild.

It kind of pisses you off that Sera still uses that forum despite knowing how much anxiety it has caused you, but then again, there is only so much you can expect from her. Her appetite for drama and chaos is her way of life, her only other hobby aside from writing. You also vaguely recall her saying that she gathers inspiration for her short stories from some of the more outrageous posts made by your fellow schoolmates.

In the end, curiosity gets the best of you as you stare at the open webpage, tantalizing despite the murkiness that lies within. Oh, lighten up. It’s just a confessions page… Besides, you also kind of want to see what people are saying about your poem, and whether the commotion might have died even slightly over time. (Unlikely, but you remain hopeful.)

“Let’s see,” you murmur to yourself, sneaking glances at the counter to see if Sera is close to ordering. She appears to still be next in line to order, so that might give you enough time to read a few of the comments on the post. It doesn’t take you long to find the original post either, since Sera seems to have been perusing the same thing just beforehand.

“Typical Sera... Sympathetic in the streets, a nosey bitch in the sheets.” You snort, scrolling quickly through the comment section. Nothing seems to be out of the ordinary, except for a few overenthusiastic responses from a couple of people who have bombarded the forum so much that it takes you a few moments to navigate past their thread. You catch a few words here and there, mostly the names of the seven possible muses and not so much the names of any of the possible authors. Honestly, you are more than happy with these turn of events, perfectly content as long as your identity never sees the day where it becomes associated with that disaster piece.

You sort the comments by popularity, wanting to know what everyone’s biggest guesses are. You want to remain hopeful, but as the results start to load, the wave of nausea that suddenly hits you may have been the first warning signal that you should probably stop before you read something that you will regret.

posted by u/SeokjinGod [3d ago]:

[+103, -4] i’m really hoping that kim seokjin is the muse of the poem!! has anyone seen the ads for the new play he’s staring in? he totally looks like the lead actor in a romantic comedy ^^

➾ [+54, -69] psh. that idiot, the muse? PLEASE anyone who has ever worked for kim seokjin KNOWS that it’s physically impossible to form a human connection with that man

➾ [+2, -1] lol seconded

posted by u/namuwuchild [1d ago]:

[+88, -3] WAIT why am i not seeing kim namjoon’s name more often T_T he deserves more love!! stream moonchild or else i’ll bite your ankles

➾ [+1, -6] lol i miss when namjoon used to do actual hiphop… fucking hippie dippie go fuck a tree and some crabs while you’re at it

You sneak a look over your shoulder. Sera is at the front of the line, reciting her orders while the harried employee has to quickly punch in the inordinate amount of food items. Okay… While no one’s looking, time to downvote a couple of these and maybe report some of these assholes… No way in hell are you letting anyone think Moonlight Sonata is about either of those Kim idiots. You would honestly rather out yourself than let anyone think they are worthy of such public displays of love and humiliation.

You are just about to close Sera’s phone and vow never to set foot on social media ever again when the next post catches your eye––the first one where you actually see your name. In fact, your name is generously sprinkled a number of times in this one specific thread.

“Wait a second…” You squint at the top of the thread, reading out the username of the original poster. Is that… Is that your name?!

“User Y/NKook… Oh my god!” You shriek loudly, almost dropping the phone from your sweaty palms. It must be the same person who had organized that merchandise booth in the cafeteria the other week! The number of upvotes on the post isn’t making you feel any better.

posted by u/Y/NKook [3h ago]:

[+98, -5] idk why you noobs are even trying… intellectuals KNOW that y/nkook is real and i won’t take no for an answer… give me my childhood friends to lovers fic RIGHT NOW because this slowburn has been going on for years now and i can’t stand it!!!

➾ [+11, -0] omg op do you know them personally?? how’d you know that they were childhood friends?? i go to the same drama class as y/n and jungkook but they never sit together… are you sure it’s them??

➾ [+20, -1] of course!! they’re even neighbors… besides, haven’t you heard what his nickname is? his friends call him moon eyes for a reason! they say that y/n is the one who gave him that name ^^

You feel your eye twitch, disbelief flooding your senses. Why is this weirdo shipping you with Jungkook? You guys haven’t even spoken properly since elementary school… How does this dude know who you are? Are you being stalked? You whirl your head around, scanning the restaurant for any suspicious people who may or may not be following you. Is this what celebrities feel like when they get shipped with their friends? You feel a sudden surge of respect for them, unable to grasp the situation that you are in. God, you really hope Jungkook hasn’t read any of these.

You go to switch Sera’s phone off, feeling less accomplished than ever before. Maybe it is best to save yourself the anxiety of seeing your world fall apart and try to delude yourself into thinking that the past two weeks have never happened at all. However, there is a certain appeal to reading things that you know you should not, like watching a car crash and unable to look away. The urge to keep scrolling and gaze upon your own personal hell is hard to stop when you have already gained momentum.

“One last post, then I’m done…” You are hard set on that promise, not wanting your apprehension to destroy your peaceful afternoon completely. The next post on the forum greets you with a high upvote number, sending a lick of fear to run down your spine at what you might find. Please don’t be about Y/NKook, you pray helplessly. Little did you know, there are worse things to worry about other than being shipped with your friends.

posted by u/triceratops 👤 [1h ago]:

[+154, -5] hey guys i’m back again with another update! so i’ve managed to shorten the list a bit since last time i posted, and i’m 100% certain that kim seokjin is not the muse! sorry, gamers… our prince is in another castle it seems. worry not, though! that only helps our search better and shortens the list. on the other hand, the authors list has also been edited! turns out that neither jodi nor melody is the author, as they both submitted poems about something else. if you are interested to see the updated lists for both muse and author, please head to my profile and look for the original post titled “Mystery Moon Author & Their Mystery Muse” :-)

You have never clicked on a profile as quickly as you did in that moment. Not even a notification from UberEats could make you move that fast.

Lo and behold, the post that started it all is right at the top of the user’s profile, with the significantly shorter list that they had promised. Sweat begins to build on your temples when you realize that the authors list has decreased to seven names, with your name still obstinately sitting at the end of the lines. When will your suffering end?

There is still something that doesn’t sit right with you, however. As you peruse this user’s profile some more, you feel as if there is something weird about it that you can’t quite place. You never did like using this forum, so maybe you are just not used to the layout of the website? What is it about this user’s profile that is making your stomach coil with nerves?

Wait a second… Why is there an edit button beside their profile picture?

“Y/N! I’m back! Sorry for taking so long; I think I ordered too much again. You’re fine with BBQ sauce on your nuggs, right? That’s all I asked for––” Sera had been happily chirping away, sliding into the bench across from you before finally noticing your stoney face. She pats her face, rubbing her cheeks in confusion. “What? Do I have something on me?”

“How fucking dare you!” You hiss, slamming her phone on the table. Unfortunately, you had accidentally locked the phone in your anger, showing only a black screen.

Sera flinches backwards, bewildered. Her eyes flick to the screen and then to you. “Huh? I thought you liked BBQ sauce on your nuggs? I mean, I can ask for sweet and sour sauce if you want…”

“Unlock your phone right now and explain to me why you have triceratops’ profile logged in.”

Your words begin to click in Sera’s mind. Her face grows pale, her body unconsciously sliding further into the booth to hide from your glare. “U-uh… Haha, what on earth are you talking about..?”

“Don’t even try to lie, Sera. I saw everything, and I honestly don’t know if I’m madder that you betrayed me or that I was stupid enough to believe that you were my friend.”

Sera splutters incomprehensibly at first, waving her arms in panic as she tries to save her ass. “I––! You––! It wasn’t like I––”

You lean forward, peering at her coldly. “Oh yeah? What wasn’t it like? It wasn’t like we were friends?”

“No, of course not! I mean,” she backtracks, tongue-tied. “We are friends! It’s just… I made that post before I knew you were the author and I originally sent the poem to just a couple of people because I was so impressed, and I just wanted to––”

“Hold on,” you interrupt, holding up a finger. She squeaks, staring at you fearfully as you slowly get up to your feet. You cry out, “You were also the one who released my fucking poem to the world?!”

“Anna ou––” Sera whimpers, slapping her palm to her mouth. She lowers it, whispering ruefully. “I… didn’t mean to say that…”

“Oh, so you were meaning to lie to me even more?” You seethe, ready to burst into flames.

The poor McDonalds employee who had come to deliver your order to your table seems too frightened to approach the two of you, her arms shaking both with fear and the weight of five orders of 20 piece chicken nuggets. “Uh, is this a bad time?” The girl asks, eyes darting away from your heated glare.

Instead of answering, you grab the tray from her hands and dump the contents on the table. Sera squawks pitifully when a few of the nuggets fall to the ground, though she absolutely yells when you start chucking them at her head like tiny oily cannonballs.

“What the fuck––Dude stop!” Sera has her arms up in defense, shielding her face from your fiery attack. The sound of you ripping open a BBQ sauce packet has her straightening up, however. “No, not the BBQ sauce! Anything but that!”

“Give me one reason why I should show you mercy.” Your hand is poised to pour the sticky sauce all over her white Valentino bag, ready at a moment’s notice.

“Please, Y/N! I’m really sorry!” Sera jumps out of the booth, and goes on her knees. She clasps her hands together, shaking them frantically. “I really didn’t know it was you at first!”

“Well then, why didn’t you fucking take the post down the moment you did know it was me? I thought you were my friend!” You clench your fist around the BBQ sauce packet, causing some of it to spill onto her bag. She makes a desperate noise.

“I just… I like the attention?” She knows this is the wrong answer, judging by your unimpressed expression. She sighs heavily, head bowed in shame. “Look, I’ll fix this, alright? I genuinely didn’t do this wanting to hurt you… I just got so caught up in the clout that I didn’t really think about what would happen if you found out!”

“‘If’ I found out, huh…” You echo, more disappointed than angry now. You slump back into your chair, taking care to grab the napkins and cleaning the sticky mess on your skin as best as you can. “You really were going to continue doing this for as long as it took, huh?”

“I’m really sorry, Y/N.” Her voice is soft, repentant. It doesn’t do much for your sympathy, however.

“Fuck you, honestly. If you really are sorry, you’ll fix this mess as soon as possible.”

You reach for your bag, your movements jostling a few more nuggets to tumble to the floor. You don’t bother saying goodbye, not wanting to see if Sera is doing her Crying Face Emoji impression to try and soften you up. Not this time. This time… you don’t think your feelings can recover after this.

You have read enough stories about heartbreak and longing, but you don’t think any of them top the experience of losing a friend you realize you never even had.

The next morning, there is a new post on the forum from user triceratops.

posted by u/triceratops 👤 [0s ago]:

[+0, -0] Hello, friends. I think I’ve found the author.

It’s Lee Sera.

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sandeepmaheshwaritips-blog · 4 years

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Best Motivational Quotes to Overcome Anxiety and Depression

Moving statements and motivational quotes to overcome anxiety and depression have a stunning capacity to change the manner in which we feel about existence. This is the reason I find them so intriguing and significant on our ways to progress.

So what's their mystery?

The manner in which you contemplate yourself, including your convictions and assumptions regarding what is workable for you, decides everything that transpires.

To be successful, you have to use each day as an opportunity to grow, to find purpose in life, to be better, to get a little bit closer to your goals. It might sound like an impossible thing or a lot of work—and with a busy schedule, next to impractical. But the best part is, the more you get the results, the more you’ll want to work hard, the higher you’ll want to reach. So as long as you have the hunger for success, you will always have the power within you to achieve it.

You have full oversight over just a single thing known to mankind — your reasoning – and that is the place inspirational statements come in!

Everybody needs a little motivation now and again.

Regardless of whether you're experiencing a separation, you've recently lost your employment, or you just woke up feeling a little shaky toward the beginning of today—we've all had nowadays.

I've assembled a rundown of probably the best-overcome anxiety and depression quotes so you can begin the year by assuming responsibility for your considerations, thinking emphatically and defining new objectives.

Dont Forget to read the best Dalai Lama Quotes and Sayings to bring a positive change in your life.

“You know you’re in love when you can’t fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams.” – Dr. Suess

Motivational and Inspirational Quotes

“I think being in love with life is a key to eternal youth.” —Doug Hutchison

"I’m a success today because I had a friend who believed in me and I didn’t have the heart to let him down.” – Abraham Lincoln

“The purpose of our lives is to be happy.” — Dalai Lama

“Feelings don’t try to kill you, even the painful ones. Anxiety is a feeling grown too large. A feeling grown aggressive and dangerous. You’re responsible for its consequences, you’re responsible for treating it. But…you’re not responsible for causing it. You’re not morally at fault for it. No more than you would be for a tumor.” ― Patrick Ness, The Rest of Us Just Live Here

“Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans.” — John Lennon

“Get busy living or get busy dying.” — Stephen King

“You only live once, but if you do it right, once is enough.” — Mae West

“Not how long, but how well you have lived is the main thing.” — Seneca

“If life were predictable it would cease to be life, and be without flavor.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

“How can a person deal with anxiety? You might try what one fellow did. He worried so much that he decided to hire someone to do his worrying for him. He found a man who agreed to be his hired worrier for a salary of $200,000 per year. After the man accepted the job, his first question to his boss was, “Where are you going to get $200,000 per year?” To which the man responded, “That’s your worry.” ― Max Lucado

“The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain.” —Dolly Parton

“Do all the good you can, for all the people you can, in all the ways you can, as long as you can.” — Hillary Clinton

“Don’t settle for what life gives you; make life better and build something.” — Ashton Kutcher

“Everybody wants to be famous, but nobody wants to do the work. I live by that. You grind hard so you can play hard. At the end of the day, you put all the work in, and eventually it’ll pay off. It could be in a year, it could be in 30 years. Eventually, your hard work will pay off.” — Kevin Hart

“Everything negative – pressure, challenges – is all an opportunity for me to rise.” — Kobe Bryant

“I like criticism. It makes you strong.” — LeBron James

“You never really learn much from hearing yourself speak.” ― George Clooney

“Life imposes things on you that you can’t control, but you still have the choice of how you’re going to live through this.” — Celine Dion

“Life is never easy. There is work to be done and obligations to be met – obligations to truth, to justice, and to liberty.” — John F. Kennedy

“Live for each second without hesitation.” — Elton John

“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance, you must keep moving.” — Albert Einstein

“Life is really simple, but men insist on making it complicated.” — Confucius

“Life is a succession of lessons which must be lived to be understood.” — Helen Keller

“Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking. Don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.” — Steve Jobs

“My mama always said, life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” — Forrest Gump

“Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habits. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.”— Lao-Tze

“When we do the best we can, we never know what miracle is wrought in our life or the life of another.” — Helen Keller

“The healthiest response to life is joy.” — Deepak Chopra

“Life is like a coin. You can spend it any way you wish, but you only spend it once.” — Lillian Dickson

“The best portion of a good man’s life is his little nameless, unencumbered acts of kindness and of love.” — Wordsworth

“In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life: It goes on.” ― Robert Frost

“Life is ten percent what happens to you and ninety percent how you respond to it.” — Charles Swindoll

“Keep calm and carry on.” — Winston Churchill

“Maybe that’s what life is… a wink of the eye and winking stars.” — Jack Kerouac

“Life is a flower of which love is the honey.” — Victor Hugo

“Keep smiling, because life is a beautiful thing and there’s so much to smile about.” — Marilyn Monroe

“Health is the greatest gift, contentment the greatest wealth, faithfulness the best relationship.” — Buddha

“You have brains in your head. You have feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose.” — Dr. Seuss

“Good friends, good books, and a sleepy conscience: this is the ideal life.” — Mark Twain

“Life would be tragic if it weren’t funny.” — Stephen Hawking

“Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.” — Ralph Waldo Emerson

“The greatest pleasure of life is love.” — Euripides

“Life is what we make it, always has been, always will be.” — Grandma Moses

“Life’s tragedy is that we get old too soon and wise too late.” — Benjamin Franklin

“Life is about making an impact, not making an income.” — Kevin Kruse

“I’ve missed more than 9000 shots in my career. I’ve lost almost 300 games. 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game winning shot and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again in my life. And that is why I succeed.” – Michael Jordan

“Every strike brings me closer to the next home run.” – Babe Ruth

“I’ve spent most of my life and most of my friendships holding my breath and hoping that when people get close enough they won’t leave, and fearing that it’s a matter of time before they figure me out and go.” ― Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet: Thoughts on Change, Grace, and Learning the Hard Way

“The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why.” – Mark Twain

“Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.” – Anais Nin

“When I was 5 years old, my mother always told me that happiness was the key to life. When I went to school, they asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I wrote down ‘happy’. They told me I didn’t understand the assignment, and I told them they didn’t understand life.” – John Lennon

“Too many of us are not living our dreams because we are living our fears.” – Les Brown

“The whole secret of a successful life is to find out what is one’s destiny to do, and then do it.”– Henry Ford

“In order to write about life first you must live it.”– Ernest Hemingway

“The big lesson in life, baby, is never be scared of anyone or anything.”– Frank Sinatra

“Many of life’s failures are people who did not realize how close they were to success when they gave up.”– Thomas A. Edison

“If you want to live a happy life, tie it to a goal, not to people or things.”– Albert Einstein

“Never let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game.”– Babe Ruth

“Money and success don’t change people; they merely amplify what is already there.” — Will Smith

“Sing like no one’s listening, love like you’ve never been hurt, dance like nobody’s watching, and live like it’s heaven on earth.” – (Attributed to various sources)

“Curiosity about life in all of its aspects, I think, is still the secret of great creative people.” – Leo Burnett

“Life is not a problem to be solved, but a reality to be experienced.”– Soren Kierkegaard

“To venture causes anxiety, but not to venture is to lose one’s self…. And to venture in the highest is precisely to be conscious of one’s self.” ― Søren Kierkegaard

“The unexamined life is not worth living.” — Socrates

“Turn your wounds into wisdom.” — Oprah Winfrey

“The more you pray, the less you’ll panic. The more you worship, the less you worry. You’ll feel more patient and less pressured.” ― Rick Warren, The Purpose of Christmas

“Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking.” – Steve Jobs

Thank you for giving your time to read these beautiful inspirational and motivational quotes about anxiety and depression. Stay connected for more.

Source: Best Motivational Quotes to Overcome Anxiety and Depression

#quotes #motivational quotes #inspirational quotes #anxiety quotes #depression quotes

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comicteaparty · 4 years

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April 6th-April 12th, 2020 CTP Archive

The archive for the Comic Tea Party week long chat that occurred from April 6th, 2020 to April 12th, 2020. The chat focused on Adventurers’ Guild by Phillip MacArthur.

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Chat:

Comic Tea Party

BOOK CLUB START!

Hello and welcome everyone to Comic Tea Party’s Book Club~! This week we’ll be focusing on Adventurers’ Guild by Phillip MacArthur~! (https://adventurersguildcomic.com/)

You are free to read and comment about the comic all week at your own pace until April 12th, so stop on by whenever it suits your schedule! Discussions are freeform, but we do offer discussion prompts in the pins for those who’d like to have them. Additionally, remember that while constructive criticism is allowed, our focus is to have fun and appreciate the comic! Whether you finish the comic or can only read a few pages, everyone is welcome to join and chat with us!

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 1

1. What did you like about the beginning of the comic?

2. What has been your favorite moment in the comic (so far)?

3. Who is your favorite character?

4. Which characters do like seeing interact the most?

5. What is something you like about the art? If you have a favorite illustration, please share it!

6. What is a theme you like that the comic explores?

7. What do you like about the comic’s story or overall related content?

8. Overall, what do you think the comic’s strengths are?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

RebelVampire

What I liked about the beginning of the comic was just the overall pacing. The comic really takes it's time to introduce the world to you and the first set of characters, and it kind of hits that right beat for me where there's a lot of information where I don't feel overwhelmed since the pacing slows to the right tempo to make it work. My favorite moment in the comic so far is probably the battle against Razoku. Without getting too specific, I love just how epic that fight was in general, and also that a character I didn't expect was down for the count for that fight, leaving everyone else to compensate. That is not something you see in stories everyday, plus I liked getting to see Jack do some work since Jack tagged along for the quest. My favorite character at the moment is probably Li, because I have a thing for enigmatic mysterious dudes who I know so little about. Plus, he's a sorceror and I always 1000% support magic classes. As for characters interacting, probably Klaus and Li. I love the hints that they really have some history here, and I like just kind of how they balance each other out. Like sometimes Li is dumb and Klaus is the smart one and then sometimes Klaus is dumb and Li is smart. And it goes on like this for a bunch of different traits, so I like that theyre both kind of on an even footing and that they have this bond and understanding the other characters don't have with them yet. So it's like this warm thing of comfort.

RebelVampire

What I like about the art is just kind of how well it emulates RPG pixel games. Especially how dialogue and other elements are handled to replicate the UI. It's a nice touch that really just kind of sells that whole game feel aesthetic. I liked that the comic explored the moral choice between helping someone vs. fulfilling your obligation. And the tangentially related "Is it okay to lie if it's a stupid noble who wants a thing for aesthetics and frivolous reasons?" Some pretty common themes, yet still important themes always worthy of discussion. I also liked how the noble knew the lie and still just accepted it anyway, since that was 100% now the outcome I was expecting. So it really takes the exploration of that theme a bit differently. What I like about the story is the same thing I like about the art: it really nails the game feel. Like I really do feel I've been watching just an epically long cutscene to some game, but as someone who does like games and RPGs, that really appeals to me. Honestly, I'd be excited to play this as an actual game so I could use Li and cast all the magic. As for the comic's strengths, game feel which I've already discussed. But in general, like the beginning, pacing. I've seen a few comics like this one, but for most the pacing usually isn't that great since pixel art really only allows for so much action to be depicted. So pacing for these things needs to be epically different than it does for most comics. I think this one really nails it, especially with combat. The comic really shows how the combat will be epic, but it doesn't try to pad it out either and just kind of embraces the limitations that come with this specific style.

warriorneedsfood

I am having a hard time engaging in the comic. The layout wasn’t very intuitive for me and it’s very small on my tablet. When I play old school rpgs I look past the interface to get to the story, but this comic embraces the format. It makes me wish the author made a game instead of the comic. However, I didn’t get very far on the first pass. I will be hunkering down with the comic later on this week to read it to get the whole impression of the story.

RebelVampire

Once I adjusted to the layout, I actually found it way easier for mobile personally.

Since I didn't really have to zoom or squint, and the panels were very responsive to touch controls

But it is definitely far from the standard so I can see it as a point of alienation

Eightfish (Puppeteer)

Gotta say, never played this kind of game so this comic isn't really for me, but I did think the format was really unique and cool

I don't have any problems reading it on my phone

Feather J. Fern

I think this premise for the layout is really interesting. I actually think it would have done really well as actually an Instagram comic due to it's scroll, square shape.

I do also have to agree if this was an actual game done on RPG Maker or something, it would fit it a lot more. But I do love the feel it is giving me.

I do have to note that the font is making it hard for me to read, since that font isn't really good for me. My own personal problem though.

I can see why they went with that choice for the old RPG feeling

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 2

9. Why do you think Myra came to Knolton, and why is she hesitant to talk to even fellow Nemians about her backstory? Additionally, why is Jack equally mysterious about his origins? How do you think the truth will change the characters’ relationships with each other?

10. Do you think Klaus will allow Kidd to join the party? If so, how will that change the current group dynamic? Additionally, how will Cedric’s secrecy effect how much trust the other’s put in him?

11. How do you think Klaus and Li met, and for what reason do you think Li joined Klaus’ clan? Additionally, what do you think Li’s backstory might be in general? Do you believe there are secrets that might change how the group sees him, or is it something more mundane?

12. Do you think the group will see Edmund or anyone else they’ve faced against again? If so, what do you think will happen? In general, how will the group’s growing fame affect them and the quests they take on?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

RebelVampire

I feel like Myra probably got exiled or something. If only cause Myra does not seem like she'd have come to Knolton by choice, and you don't conceal your backstory unless you've got embarrassing shit to hide. I assume Jack might be in the same sort of situation. I actually think if Myra and Jack talked about it, though, it'd bring them closer together, as well as the whole group. The truth sets you free and all that. As for Kidd, yes, I think Klaus will let Kidd join. Klaus seems nice like that. As for group dynamic, I think it will simultaneously make Cedric a better and worse member of the group. I kind of feel if push came to shove, Cedric would ditch the others to save Kidd, making him unreliable. But at the same time, if Kidd goes with, Cedric would probably have increased loyalty. As for Cedric's secrecy, I think it'll be a long time before anyone fully trusts him again. I get the impression that Klaus must of met Li when Li was down on his luck, and since Klaus was such a bro and a friend, of course he joined. As for Li's backstory, I actually don't have any theories, although I kind of feel Li is less secret cause of something to hide but more maybe no one asks. Though I'm sure there is at least one secret in there that will make the audience gasp. I do think the group will at least see Edmund again because Edmund seemed an important and noteworthy character who'd come back. I could also see silver lotus noble coming back for silver lotus part 2 only now its a gold lotus. Either way, in regards to Edmund, of course theyre going to fight, though I feel like someone will try to convince Edmund to join their part instead, which Edmund might be convinced somehow. In general, though, their group is definitely gonna attract big baddies and great evil, cause fame comes at a cost.

GuildmasterPhill

Hello, author of Adventurers' Guild here! Just want to chime in and say it's been a real pleasure to read all the analysis of my comic here. It's good to see some of you really getting into it, and I think this whole tea party thing is a wonderful idea. Adventurers' Guild's week is almost up, as I understand it, but I'll be around here for the last bit of it if anyone has any questions for me! (I'm REALLY cagey about storyline spoilers, though, so don't expect any of those!) Thanks again!

Comic Tea Party

DISCUSSION PROMPTS – PART 3

13. What are you most looking forward to seeing in regards to the comic?

14. Any final words of encouragement for the comic?

Don’t feel inspired by the prompts? Feel free to discuss anything else that interested you!

mathtans

Hi! Our modem died, so my internet capabilities are real limited at the moment. But I had a quick look at the start of the week and just wanted to say I think the format is really neat, since I see some back and forth debate about it. All the best with the comic!