#i am in fucking college to become an electrical engineer this is embarrassing
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abysmal lack of content here’s a shitpost
#unoriginal content#brainlet hour#Sky: Children of the Light#that game sky#sky: cotl#skykid#sky oc#it took me so fucking long to figure out how to use cumblr desktop#so fucking long to learn how to make a post#i am in fucking college to become an electrical engineer this is embarrassing#yuh hurr durr i am good at computer very much#going to jump off my roof#i like putting a lot of tags here#adds engagement#i am so goddamn lonely
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The Habit of Planning
Prompt: During a busy day at Central Park, Lin mistakes Y/N as a paparazzi and he is not happy.
Pairing: Lin x reader
Words: 4,759 (brace yourselves)
A/N: I’ve been writing for this for so long, I’m glad it’s out of my head. I wrote the basis of the fic under the tags for ‘Monochrome’, and a couple of you guys happened to read it and told me I should write it! So thank you to all of you! I hope you guys enjoy!
5:30 A.M.
Wake up, make a to-do list for the day, and go to the gym.
7:00 A.M.
Go home, take a shower, and go to work.
4:00 P.M.
Go home, check the to-do list, and make dinner.
6:00 P.M.
Clean around the house and nod in satisfaction when the to-do list for the day is complete.
7:30 P.M.
Watch T.V.
9:30 P.M.
Bed time.
Lather, rinse, and repeat.
You felt hot.
Was it always this hot in the morning?
It only got this hot in your room when…
Your eyes snapped open and your hands immediately reached for your phone that you knew would be on top of your bedside table.
You sat up when you came up empty.
Where the hell is it?
You jumped out of bed and rummaged through your sheets and comforter, tossing them behind you in the process. Out of all the rooms in your home, your bedroom would get the hottest throughout the day because it faced the sun. The rise in temperature in your room only meant one thing…
You spotted your phone but your relief was short-lived when you saw that it was 8:30 A.M.
You gasped.
You were supposed to be at work by now.
You were supposed to be working on the breadboard for the new prototype that you had to present to your boss in two weeks. You plopped down on your bed, head throbbing. Your brain automatically made a list of options: go to work late and stay a bit longer to make up for lost time, go to work late and skip lunch, or, god forbid, call in.
You decided on the second option, and after a quick mental check to make sure that you were thinking clearly, pressed the speed-dial for your boss’ number.
“Clarke speaking,” was his curt answer.
“Morning, Clarke,” you started, pacing, “I just wanted to let you know I’m running a bit late today.”
“Y/N, didn’t you get the email about the power outage?” he replied.
“Power outage?” you repeated.
“Yep. The generator is busted too, so I decided to give everyone a day off.”
You paced around your bedroom. “B-but what about the project? The meeting with our client is in two weeks…”
“I’m fully aware,” was his amused reply.
You pursed your lips, afraid that you insulted him. “I’ll just do a bit of work from home. I saved a few things on my flash drive. I’m sure I can get a few things done in the meantime.”
“Y/N, take a break. You’ve been working your ass off since the project started,” he said.
“But Clarke…” you groused, a frown pulling at your lips.
“Have a good day off, Y/N,” he said, promptly ending the call before you had a chance to further protest.
You looked at your phone in disbelief.
A day off?
Those words were foreign to you.
They didn’t mean a damn thing, not when you had goals and dreams that you were still in the process of achieving. At the fresh age of 21, you graduated with your Electrical Engineering degree from NYU. The scholarships and internships you’ve done eventually scored you a job at one of the most reclusive electronic companies that was listed in Forbe’s Top 10 Companies.
You were a workaholic and you weren’t ashamed of admitting it.
If you were, you wouldn’t be a single woman living in a townhouse in New York City.
With your mind made up, you headed to the shower, mentally calculating the hours you’ve lost for the day and how to could make up for it. Your shower was a quick one, and after grabbing a granola bar from your pantry for breakfast, you sat in your office and pulled out your journal.
Every day you created a list of things you needed to do. It kept you organized and focused throughout the day. Your lists were always neat and pristine, and it was rare that you finished a day with a task that was incomplete.
Most importantly, it kept your life under your control. There would be no surprises, no distractions that would make you stray from the path of success that you had built.
You trusted your system. It had helped you get this far, and as long as you followed it, your future was promised.
A few hours later and after numerous futile attempts to fix the wiring issues in the system, you decided to take a breather. You pulled open a drawer under your desk, remembering that you had a jar full of sweets for moments like these.
You paused as you pushed aside the DSLR camera you won through a raffle during a company party. You wanted to trade it for the fancy French press Clarke won instead, but he refused, saying something along the lines of you needing a hobby to keep you stress-free.
The dust collecting on the camera was a sign that it didn’t work.
You cleaned off the camera and placed it on your desk. You snorted and unwrapped the piece of chocolate you fished out of your jar, observing the sleek object. There wasn’t a single artistic bone in your body, and even if there was, you didn’t have enough time to suddenly pick up a new hobby.
But somehow, an hour later, against your better judgment, you had the camera strapped around your neck as you made your way outside.
You hadn’t made any forward progress with the project, so you packed your things and left home - perhaps a change of scenery will do the trick. You found yourself at Central Park, coffee from a nearby Starbucks on the bench and your notebook on your lap. The weight of the camera around your neck was becoming uncomfortable, so you decided to remove it from the strap and place it on top of your laptop bag.
You scanned Central Park, feeling nostalgic. When you were in college, you would sit and study by yourself when the library was too packed. Often times, however, you would people watch. From tourists to the homeless, there was no such thing as a dull day at Central Park.
Since it was lunchtime, the fields were littered with people sitting on their blankets, sunbathing or eating. The benches that were near you were occupied with people, headphones in their ears and their gazes focused on their work.
Following their example, you grabbed the pen that was stuck behind your right ear and began to brainstorm on a new way to solve the wiring problem you couldn’t seem to solve. After staring at the blank page for twenty minutes, your shoulders slumped forward in disappointment.
A bird fluttered down and landed on your table, its tiny beak gently pecking against the wooden surface of the bench. You flinched, waiting for it to suddenly turn too inquisitive and come towards you. To your surprise, it lifted its head and stared at you, cocking its head to the side as if saying, ‘what?’.
You were having a staring match with a bird.
How strange.
The glint of your camera caught your eye, practically begging you to take a picture of the moment. You reached for it, fumbling to take off the cap that covered the lens. You brought the view-finder up to your eyes, adjusting your position so that the bird was in the center of the picture.
Click.
The second you took the picture, the bird, startled, flew away.
You laughed when you saw that the picture you took was out-of-focus. How awful. Amused, you began to take random pictures of things that caught your interest.
The sun - the picture was completely white, the glare completely dominating the picture.
A discarded cigarette lost in the sea of leaves that surrounded it...not pretty at all.
Next was a man who sat a table away from you who happened to steal a look over his laptop the minute your finger pressed the capture button. Embarrassed at being caught, you quickly put your camera down and pretend to read something in your notebook.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
A pause.
“You’re just going to pretend that I didn’t see you do that?”
You looked up and locked eyes with a man whose brows were furrowed together in anger.
“Look,” you started, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but he cut you off.
“I get it, you’re trying to do your job and everything, but this is New York City. There’s other people – people that are much, much more popular than I am – roaming around here.”
“What?” you said, confused.
“I just don’t get why it’s so hard for you guys to respect personal space. I do a show almost every day and I just want to be able to enjoy my day off in peace,” he continued to rant, his voice gradually getting louder and louder.
You noticed a few heads turn your way and you felt your ears burn in discomfort. “It was just a picture,” you reasoned, but his voice rose over yours.
“I’m not even doing anything remotely scandalous! I’m working on a song that’s due in a few days,” he continued, completely ignoring your protests, “I thought I’d be able to hide here, but no… You’re friends with that guy that followed me home last night, aren’t you? Did you follow me here?”
“I’m sorry, what?” you said, your voice an octave higher and your patience becoming thinner at his ridiculous accusation.
“Oh, don’t act innocent,” he snorted, looking down at you.
You clenched your fists in anger, not liking his tone of voice. “Why the hell would I follow you around? I don’t even know you,” you hissed, squinting your eyes at him.
“You don’t know me? Puh-lease,” was his snooty reply.
You blinked, trying to figure out how your day had come to a random man in Central Park yelling at you for a stupid picture. Fed up, you slung your laptop bag over your shoulder and stood. “I have no idea who you are, nor do I really care,” you snarled, slipping your camera around your neck, “but if it really bothers you that much, I’ll delete it.” You pushed the delete button on the camera angrily before showing him the screen.
Realization dawned on his face.
“Oh fuck,” he whispered, “you really don’t know who I am, do you?”
“Congrats, you finally get it,” you replied, glaring at him one last time before you grabbed your notebook and walked away.
“I – hey – wait!” he called, scrambling back to his bench to grab his laptop.
To your annoyance, he chased after you, his large steps causing him to easily catch up.
“I’m sorry. Truly. I thought you were a paparazzi,” he rasped, his shoes clicking against the cement as he strode by your side.
“My name is Lin,” he resumed despite your silence.
“Nope, don’t care,” you quipped, not sparing him a glance.
He let out a weak chuckle, slightly faltering in his steps. “Ouch, alright I deserved that – watch your step, there’s a puddle - ” he grabbed your elbow and maneuvered you around it, “how can I make it up to you?”
You let him guide you over the puddle but then yanked your elbow back to your side, not giving yourself a chance to think of forgiving him by his chivalrous act. He was a total dick.
“How about I buy you coffee?” he offered.
“I can buy my own coffee, thanks,” you snapped, becoming angrier with the reminder that you left you coffee behind.
“Yes, I’m sure you can, but – “
You stopped walking. “But because you were a total asshole to a stranger, you feel obligated to buy their forgiveness in order to make your conscious feel better,” you countered, hands on your hips. You felt smug when he shut up.
“So how about I offer you my companionship instead?” he retorted, smiling when he saw you balk at his answer, “And you’re right, I feel terrible. But at least I’m trying to fix it.”
For the first time since you had met him, you gave him a once-over. Shoulder-length black hair hidden under a gray beanie, swollen brown eyes suggesting lack of sleep, and clothes that were too simple for a so-called ‘celebrity’ to wear.
“So let’s start over,” he said, sticking a hand out for you to shake. “My name’s Lin-Manuel Miranda.”
You stared at him, stumped.
He cleared his throat when you didn’t move. “This is the part where you’re supposed to shake my hand and introduce yourself.”
You didn’t have the chance to answer because two girls approached the both of you.
“Lin?” one of the girls asked in a shaky voice.
He turned to them and gave them a beaming smile. “Hi!” he greeted.
The two girls squealed in response.
You stood there, listening to the girls talk, picking up pieces of their conversation and trying to make sense it of it. Groffsauce? Daveed? Pippa? Were those names of actual people?
One of the girls turned to face you. “Could you take a picture of us?”
“Um, okay, sure,” you said, bewildered, and accepted the phone that she held up to you.
You took the picture and after another minute of chatting, the girls continued on their way, waving excitedly at Lin all the while.
“You really are a celebrity.” You said slowly.
He chuckled and stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking smug. “Yep.”
“Are you an actor?” you prodded, taking another look at him. He was handsome, so it was possible.
“Kind of? I created and star in a musical about Alexander Hamilton,” he answered, grinning.
You couldn’t help but snort. “People actually want to watch a musical about Alexander Hamilton?”
Lin grinned, eyes twinkling in glee. “It’s sold out for the next year,” he boasted.
“Huh,” you mumbled, regarding him again, “paparazzi or not,” you squinted your eyes at him when he opened his mouth to interrupt, “which I’m not, it still doesn’t excuse you for being a jerk to someone.”
“Yes, yes, a lesson I will never forget,” he conceded, sighing dramatically.
“But it’s also not right for someone to follow you home, regardless of who you are,” you continued, voice softening, “so I get it. You’re forgiven.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled from his smile. “Not accepted.”
For the second time today, Lin stunned you into silence.
“I don’t think that’s how it works,” you said after you gathered your composure.
“I believe I offered you my company in exchange for your forgiveness,” he grinned.
You crossed your arms across your chest. “Well, then, I reject your offer.”
“Nope, not how it works,” he teased, using your words against you.
You had an urge to stomp your feet in frustration. “Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?”
“Every day,” he cackled, “it’s my charm.”
You shook your head and started walking towards the local coffee shop nearby. You stopped and turned when you see that he didn’t follow.
“Well?” you hummed, raising an eyebrow at him.
He beamed and followed after you.
You stood behind Lin in line, tapping your foot against the wooden floor. The weight of your laptop was starting to get heavy, reminding you that you had yet to make any headway on your project. You didn’t know why in the world you chose to entertain Lin, but you hoped that he would eventually lose interest and finally leave you alone.
He stepped to the side once he finished his order, heading over to the counter where the drinks were made. You smiled at the barista, gave her your order, and just as you were about to take out your card to pay, she pointed at Lin.
“Actually, he paid for your drink today,” she smiled, pearly whites gleaming against her tan skin.
You grumbled your thanks and walked over to where he stood, glaring at him the whole time.
He blinked at you innocently and remained silent, scooping up both your drinks once they were made. He followed you to a table that was tucked in the corner of the room.
You sat down and watched as he settled down in the seat across from you. “Does your conscious feel better now?” you asked.
He smiled as he placed the cups of coffee on the table. “No, not quite,” he answered as he fished out his laptop from his bag.
You glanced at a decal on his laptop, a shadow of a star with one of the sides replaced with a man pointing up at the sky.
“A fan gave it for me,” he said, noticing your lingering stare.
“Is that supposed to be you?” you asked.
The corners of his lips lifted up in a smile. “Yes. I am the star of the show.”
“Literally.” You both said at the same time.
He threw his head back and laughed while you tried to hide your smile behind your cup of coffee.
“Ah, finally! A genuine smile!” he cheered, raising his fists up in victory, causing several patrons to turn their heads at his raised voice.
“Insufferable,” you muttered, feeling your cheeks flush. You brought out your laptop and notebook, hoping to give them a moment to cool. You noticed his prodding stare and flipped open your notebook to a page full of notes from a previous project.
“I’m an electrical engineer,” you explained, pushing your notebook towards him.
“So what you’re telling me is that you’re basically a genius,” he muttered as his eyes darted around the page. He examined the formulas and designs that littered the paper, shaking his head in bewilderment.
“No, I just work hard,” you said honestly.
A smile slowly spread across his face. “I know exactly what you mean,” he said softly.
He held your gaze a bit longer and you shifted your eyes back down to your notebook, confused at your sudden feeling of lightheadedness and the wild thumping of your heart.
“I have so much work to do,” you said, finally peeling your eyes from your notebook to meet his gaze. An emotion you couldn’t decipher danced across his eyes and it passed too quickly for you to linger on what it was.
“Well don’t let me get in the way then,” he said, fishing headphones out of the pocket of his hoodie.
“You’re not leaving?” you inquired, watching him as he turned on his laptop.
“Nope,” he replied, typing noisily.
You didn’t feel as annoyed as you thought you’d be.
At your silence, his smile became wider. He slipped his headphones up and over his head, one ear pad on his ear while the other was pressed against his head.
You sighed, resigned. He wasn’t budging, not one bit. You got free coffee out of the situation, you could always leave whenever you liked, and as long as he kept to himself… it wouldn’t hurt to let him stay, would it?
“My name is Y/N.” you said quietly, sticking your hand out for him to shake.
His smile lit up his whole face. He slid his hands against yours and gave your hand a gentle squeeze.
“Nice to meet you, Y/N.”
Lin was a ball of energy.
The man could not stay still.
He’d squirm in his seat, take his pens and play an imaginary drum set, or hum a tune over and over again. He’d mumble words under his breath while bobbing his head along with a song that only he could hear. He’d ask you if certain words rhymed, argue when your opinions clashed with his, but then apologize when you threatened to leave when he’s distracted you for too long. He’d already bought you two cups of coffee, a bottle of water, and even split a cake with you that he bought for himself (apparently he was on a diet).
It was all so endearing and you found yourself enjoying his company.
You tore your eyes away from your laptop and stretched. Despite Lin’s vibrant nature, you managed to come up a design that would avoid the wiring issues and even improve the efficiency of the machine. You took a sip of your water and sighed happily, excited to be able to go to work tomorrow and try it out.
“Finished?” Lin asked, taking off his headphones.
“For now,” you grinned, closing your laptop.
“Well then how about we grab dinner? I’m starving!” Lin suggested, following suit and putting his laptop away.
Dinner?
You glanced outside, realizing for the first time it was dark outside. You glanced at your phone, your eyes nearly popping out of their sockets when you saw that it was 8 o’clock. “It’s already this late?” you gasped, shocked that you lost track of time.
“We’ve been here for five hours, Y/N.” Lin laughed.
“Five hours?” you chorused.
“Yep. Now come on, I know this really great burger joint,” he cooed, grabbing your arm to help you stand up.
“I have to be in bed in an hour and a half,” you whispered to yourself, trying to wrap your head around the fact that it was so late. Lin put your things back in your bag and slung your camera around his neck. You barely registered him slipping your bag over your shoulder.
You followed him out of the café like a zombie. You couldn’t be late to work tomorrow again, not when you were on the cusp of a new development for the project. “I have to be in bed in an hour and a half,” you repeated, this time more firmly.
“You can’t go to bed with an empty stomach,” Lin reprimanded.
You stuffed your hands in your pockets, the night air a bit too cold for your liking, and scowled. Lin, who was a few steps ahead of you, slowed down and placed a hand against the middle of your back as you both quickly crossed the street.
“But I’m not hungry,” you said once you were both in the safety of the sidewalk.
He laughed and shook his head. “I think I’ve finally met someone who’s more stubborn than I am.”
“Doubt it,” you muttered sarcastically.
Despite your objections, you followed him to the restaurant. You both ordered cheeseburgers and fries to-go, opting to sit at Central Park which was only a few blocks away.
You both sat on a bench, eating and talking.
You told him the story of how your mother brought home a cat in the fourth grade, falling in love with her, and then tragically discovering you were allergic to cats once you pet her. Your mother brought home a dog the next week.
He told you stories of his parents, how his mother and father were very supportive with his decision to be a theater major in college despite the rest of his family’s disapproval. His eyes were shining bright with unshed tears as he shared the stories of his struggles, having temporary jobs and living paycheck to paycheck.
You told him of your habit of planning every hour of your life - how planning helped you become who you were and what you were going to achieve. You dreamed of creating a more fuel efficient world and decreasing pollution.
Even after your food was finished and trash thrown away, you were still talking. From your favorite color to a distant family member and everything in-between, you talked about it.
Halfway through one of Lin’s stories you yawned loudly, effectively interrupting him. You rubbed your eyes, feeling sluggish.
“You’re going to hate me,” Lin groaned when he glanced at his watch.
“What is it?” you hummed, trying to keep your heavy lids open.
“It’s midnight,” he said with a small voice.
You froze, suddenly wide awake as if someone poured ice-cold water over you. “It’s what?” you shrieked.
You bolted up from your seat. “I need to go home,” you yelled, voice shrill with panic.
Lin followed suit. “I’ll call a cab for you.”
You waved him off, standing up and slinging your bag over your shoulder. “My place is only a few blocks away from here. I can walk.”
Lin frowned, protesting. “But it’s midnight. You never know what can happen.”
“It’s fine, I’ll manage,” you said, distracted. You checked your bag, making sure all your belongings for work were inside. Anxiety bubbled low in your belly and you felt like you didn’t even know who you were anymore. The tight control you had over your life felt like it was slipping away; you were never the one to stray from your schedule, never the one to lose track of time, or to do something as spontaneous as spending a whole day with a person you’d just met.
You ran a hand through your hair, frustrated. You looked at Lin, the reason behind today’s events.
“Well, at least let me walk you home,” he said quietly as he grabbed your camera that you left on the bench.
He was a wonderful man – passionate, caring, funny, and lively – the list could go on and on. You wanted to say no, to keep him at an arms distance because you’ve never felt so powerless, so out of control, and so vulnerable. But for some reason, you couldn’t. You wanted to have more time with him. More time to bask in his energy and his warmth.
“Okay,” you answered in a small voice.
The walk to your home felt tense, something that you hadn’t felt with Lin all day. He was making small talk and your laughs felt forced.
You didn’t like it.
“Well, this is me,” you said once you reached your doorstep.
He glanced up at the building, whistling in appreciation. “It’s nice.”
You nodded, feeling awkward. You wanted to say something, anything… but didn’t exactly know what.
“I suppose I should this give back to you,” Lin chuckled, removing your camera from around his neck and inspecting it before giving it back to you.
You gave him a tight smile. “The source of all our troubles.”
He scoffed, fumbling with his beanie. After a moment, he spoke. “I don’t know, I kind of think of it as a blessing. I wouldn’t have met you if the whole misunderstanding didn’t happen.”
Again, you were speechless.
All your life, you’d never met someone who stole your breath away as easily as he did, never met someone who made you feel special through kind gestures, or made your heart beat a million miles a second from their words.
You were terrified.
Lin sensed your unease.
“You don’t have enough space for me in your lists, don’t you?” he murmured, not meeting your eyes.
No you didn’t.
You were way too career-driven. You were afraid of failing, to fall short from reaching your dreams that you’d worked so hard for.
But deep down, you were even more afraid of being so dependent on your damn lists that you would forget to live.
In the short time that you had together, you had never felt so alive.
Lin brought life into your monotonous world.
“I think I can pencil you in,” you whispered, voice shaking.
Lin’s head shot up, surprised, and with all of your courage that you had, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into a tight hug.
You felt his heart against your chest, the thundering beat of his heart matching your own.
He drew back and cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheek.
You wait with baited breath and your eyes flutter closed when his lips softly pressed against yours.
The kiss was soft and sweet. Tingles crawled up your spine and you smiled against his lips in bliss.
After another quick kiss, he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours, his long lashes brushing against your skin. You started to unwind yourself from his arms, but he pulled them taught, trapping you against him.
“Don’t go,” he whispered, voice husky.
You flushed. “I have work in the morning.”
He sighed, keeping you in his embrace for another minute before letting you go. He slipped your camera around your neck and stole another kiss before stepping back to give you space.
“I want to see you tomorrow,” he demanded.
You grinned. “You will.”
After you exchanged numbers and practically prying him away from you, he finally turned to leave. You entered your town home and leaned against your door frame. You let out a girlish giggle, heart feeling full. It was only when you were in bed, where you had a habit of checking your lists before sleeping, that you realized not a single box was ticked off.
But it didn’t bother you one bit, not when your lips were still tingling from Lin’s kisses.
Six months later…
5:30 A.M.
Wake up, make a to-do list for the day, and go to the gym.
7:00 A.M.
Go home, take a shower, and go to work.
4:00 P.M.
Go home, check the to-do list, and make dinner.
6:00 P.M.
Clean around the house and nod in satisfaction when the to-do list for the day is complete.
7:30 P.M.
Watch T.V.
9:30 P.M.
Bed time.
You didn’t, no, couldn’t make lists anymore. Not when your crazy boyfriend had the habit of surprising you whenever he could. But as you left work early and saw Lin’s cheerful face with a picnic basket in hand, you decided that you didn’t mind it. With him by your side, you knew that life held exciting adventures at every turn.
#lin x reader#lin manuel miranda x reader#lin manuel miranda imagine#lin manuel miranda preference#lin manuel miranda fanfiction#hamilton x reader#hamilton imagine#hamilton preference#hamilton fanfiction
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