#‘AND FAIL THE WORLD??? ABSOLUTELY NOT!!! LETS GO TELL EVERYONE RIGHT NOW! THEY MUST BE PREPARED!!

[o-sunny-day]

ISNT IT BEAUTIFUL SANS!?!?!? EVERYTHING WE DO, EVERYTHING WE ARE!! ITS ALL A MACHINE- THERES A PLACE BEYOND THE SURFACE!! WE CAN REACH IT SANS, WE CAN FREE THE UNDERGROUND… WE CAN FREE THE WORLD!!!!!!!!

*what?

I JUST HAD THIS THOUGHT AND IM TERRIFIED

Sans knows about the whole game and timeline thing, and uh Wingdings clearly did too. Thats what causes him to go a little silly mode. I mean yeah ofc we don’t know what his IMMEDIATE reaction was, but at some point Wingdings decides to look for YOU, decides to give YOU a vessel into Deltarune, decides he need to bring THE ANGELS LIGHT to the rest of the underground, HE BECOMES VERY FASCINATED AND GENERALLY POSITIVE TWORDS THIS

And what we know from SANS is its the complete opposite- ignore, go about his business, try to make a life for himself despite this knowledge, all of that

And I thought UHHH HOW/WHEN DOES SANS FIND THAT OUT?

So anywho angst time that im turning funny for coping purposes

Thinkin about a potential scene of Wingdings’ mid going-crazy arc, and hes like SANS IVE GOT TO SHOW YOU SOMETHING SO AMAZING ITS GONNA BLOW YOUR MIND-

And then he reacts understandably….not very wellll!

And to that, Wingdings also doesnt react very well!

im gonna go crazy- THEY REACT COMPLETELY OPPOSITE TO THIS INFORMATION AND I FEEL LIKE THE REASON IS REALLY COOL

Sans has so many things in his life he cares about past SCIENCE and FREEING THE UNDERGROUND

…WINGDINGS THOUGH- UHHHH

Basically what i’m saying is IT MAKES SENSE. BUT ITS STILL SAD

and I cant wait to see how Sans finds out, and I cant wait to see these brothers get torn apart and put back together again forcefully

[llamagoddessofficial]

Le gasp..

Mafia Bad Sanses’ HCs

Mafia Bad Sanses’ HCs?

Horror likes bashing in heads. He likes that his job means he gets paid to bash in a lot of heads. He doesn't really care that he's considered one of Nightmare's top enforcers, that even the hardest criminals tremble in fear at the mention of his name, that he's called things like the beast and the monster... he just likes that he gets to take out all his worst frustrations on whichever face Nightmare points him to. As a nice bonus, the money he makes means his brother and surviving friends live in safety and comfort.

... But he also likes pretty things. Pretty, soft things, that make him feel fuzzy and warm. You're all three. You find out pretty quick that his frightening face hides a softspoken, sensitive creature, who keeps appearing at your door with flowers (when did you give him your address?) and homemade food. It's bizarre, how such a violent man can equally be so gentle, getting flustered just from you looking at him too long. He wants to do to you what he does with everyone he cares about - use his money to make it so that you never have to worry about anything in life again.

Probably for the best that you let him. He famously doesn't have great control over his temper.

Dust doesn't appear too happy about working for Nightmare. It's clear to anyone watching that Nightmare has something over him; whatever it is, it must be pretty bad, because Dust never questions Nightmare's orders - no matter how terrible or violent. He does exactly what's asked of him, no more, no less. And it's obvious why Nightmare might want to force someone like Dust to work for him... there's no job this silent demon can't do.

Dust, with you, is a different man. He almost becomes his old self again. When you're alone together, he actually smiles. He desperately wants to keep you away from the world he's become trapped in, and he'll probably spend the first few weeks of knowing you trying as hard as he can to separate you from him and the other skeletons. But... he's in love. He can't help it. He's always drawn back to you again, no matter how many times he tells himself he has to let go.

You're his escape. You make him forget the things he's done, and the things he has to keep doing. He's addicted to that feeling.

Killer is Nightmare's right hand. The moniker 'Nightmare's dog' is often used, mostly in an attempt to offend him, but it just makes him laugh. Much like Horror, he very much enjoys his job... he enjoys the power, indulging in his violent desires and getting paid for it. Killer is just about the closest thing Nightmare has to someone he trusts; Killer is privy to many of their 'family's deepest secrets, partly because of his position, but also partly because Nightmare knows Killer genuinely has absolutely zero interest in these massively important secrets. Killer just wants to stab things.

For some reason he seems intent that you trust him. It's really hard to tell what he wants, behind that smile... you're cautious with him, given his clear loyalty to Nightmare. But maybe that loyalty isn't as unshakeable as it seems. It starts with little things... casually lying through his teeth and fully taking the blame for something you did. Conveniently 'forgetting' to mention you around Nightmare. Failing a mission you expressed horror at. Lying about the nature of your personal information, pretending (in front of the guys) that he doesn't know stuff he very much knows.

It's impossible to tell what he wants. But it seems like, whatever it is, he wants it more than all the power he's got now.

Nightmare will obviously want to learn the identity of the person who's somehow managed to completely disarm his three most valuable and violent soldiers. Despite all of them doing their damnedest to keep you out of Nightmare's crosshairs, you can't be hidden forever.

Nightmare is supposed to have everything - there's no luxury he can't afford. But he's always had this... void inside him. It's the very void that pushes him to keep expanding his territory, to keep killing and taking, maybe if he has just that little bit more he'll feel complete. Maybe if he just has that one last shiny thing, he'll be happy. But it's never been enough.

Then he finally meets you. And something clicks.

Dust, Killer and Horror tried so hard to keep you away from Nightmare, because they were terrified of what would happen to you if Nightmare decided he didn't like you. Instead, something much, much worse happened.

Nightmare likes you.

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with his Preggo Wife #9: At the Beach

Can be read with others in series or alone

Summary: You're not too confident at the beach with your body, but Joel's got the best remedy

Warnings: Super fluff!! Some sexy time at the end, unprotected sex, car sex, failed sex, fingering, 1 spank, heavier descriptions of pregnant body 

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You complain how hot it is, the grainy sand stuck on on your thighs, the hot sun blistering your sensitive skin, the onlookers you fear are gawking at your enormous size. The fact you have to wear a bikini now despite always having worn a full piece before the baby train docked. But it just wouldn't fit, and you had to buy a NEW (and even larger sized) two piece to accommodate your must larger figure.

 All of it makes you want to barf and hide in a closet. At the very least wrapped up in a towel—but of course, one towel doesn't even cover over your mid section anymore either!

Not that he's complaining. Joel pulls his sunglasses down to the bridge of his nose to let all the light in and, with no shame, gets a glorious look at you as often as he can. You wearing a two piece with your accentuated body now so drastically changed because of him, just absolutely showcasing the evidence of your love making has him struggling to keep his cock down in his trousers. He wants to put his hands all over you and tell everyone yeah, this body? this belly? This woman? You see her? Mine. 

You didn't want to come to the beach. Okay, you did, like, yesterday, when you were scratching his arm off and begging to go sun bathe and wear your new sandals, but clearly, Joel couldn't recognize when you changed your mind last minute in the car ride without actually verbally telling him. He was so busy humming his little 70s tunes on the radio, glancing smiles at you and putting his warm hand on your fat thigh. Completely unaware, despite your reassuring smiles, that you wanted him to turn around right now and go home. Why couldn't the man just read your mind? Why do you have to explain everything to him word for word?

So here you are, a million degrees under the baking sun, sand in your sandals with the whole world of beautiful people apparently on this beach too. You stand there awkwardly, rubbing your arms hoping to shrink down to an ant and scurry away.

Trying to get to your knees is difficult at best, uncomfortable and pathetic, before settling on your bum with that massive tummy in the way of everything. You spread your legs and, fuck, you look like you might as well be pushing this baby out right now in this bloated birthing position. Could they kick you off the beach for looking like this???

Joel doesn’t pay any attention at all. He gets right to being a boy and digging a big hole in the sand like a 14 year old, despite his cracking knees and shifting groans from all the movement he’s got to do.

At least someone here is having a good time.

He carefully scoops the sand with his thick palm, making a smooth, rounded cavern. He even brought a tape measure, which he uses around your tummy first, strangely, and you don't even question it.

Once the hemisphere is dug to his satisfaction, smoothed over with his calloused fingers, he sits back and waves to you. 

You're picking little grains of sand off your moon-sized belly.

He coughs again, and you finally look up.

"Ta da!" He boasts proudly.

You throw your hands up defeatedly at his extremely unimpressive hole. "Okay?"

His lips draw tightly to a thin line, doubt crossing his face. “Wait, just—c’mere. Best part."

He grabs your hands and helps you to lie forward so that your belly has room to dip into the hole. And just like that, for the first time in months, you're lying on your front again.

It’s as if a massive ache in your back is suddenly relieved. "Oh my god! This feels amazing!" You cheer. The pressure your baby had been putting on your lower spine suddenly disappears, and all that weight is so perfectly supported by the carefully measured cradle he dug in the sand. It's been so long since you were in this position, you had dreams of the day you could again.

"Joel, you're—“

"Fuckin' amazin', I know darlin'."

He plants a special cooling pillow in front of you so you can rest your chin above the sand, no strain on your neck.

You sigh loudly, and extremely long, not even aware that it sounds like a pornographic moan.

"Behave, you," he tsks with a raised brow, his whispers tickling your ear.

"Mmmm.”

You wave him off, suddenly enjoying the warm heat of the sun on your bare back.

He lathers your exposed skin with gentle sun screen, massaging your shoulders, neck, sides. He takes special care to realllly rub your butt, 'so you don't burn.' Puts an umbrella over you too for good measure. With the reassuring feeling of Joels hands working out your muscles all over you, the crashing sound of waves in the distance and chirping seagulls, and feeling like you aren’t heavily pregnant for the first time in months, you quickly succumb to a nap.

-

Later when he's got food, double fisting some hot dogs, he sits you up and rubs the sand off your belly with a clean cloth. Joel scarfs the first one down, ketchup drooping down his wrist.

But you’re too distracted, and when you tell him its okay, he eats yours without a second thought. You laugh a little. Poor thing probably got baked under the sun too busy taking care of you.

He chews loudly, jaw working close with the amount of meat and mustard and bread bulging out. You lick your thumb and wipe away the droop of condiment spilling from his lips.

He playfully chases your hand with a bite, growling.

you shake your head. “You fucking weirdo.”

“Mmm. My pretty fuckin’ girl.”

His eyes rake over your body—skin radiant in the sun, so smooth and shiny from the oily sunscreen he had smoothed over you. Like something out of a dream. His dreams, to be exact. Not so appropriate dreams he may have already had after only the first week of dating you, and thinking about the day you might be exactly as you are—pregnant with a his ring on your finger.

Delirious with the sight of you, he leans in and starts kissing you, then groping and suckling alll down to your bloated belly.

"Joel, stop, people are gonna see!"

"Let them see, you're so fucking sexy right now.”

"STOP.” You grasp him a bit more firmly to pull his hungry mouth away from going any further down south. “We're not having sex right now. That's final. Now keep your bad boy parts in your pants.”

He pouts and grumbles, drawing away like a scolded child.

You watch as a group of kids play in the water and laugh, or two young girls collect more sea shells than their little hands can carry. Your hand absent-minded rubs over your belly, wondering what your baby is thinking right this moment. If she had thoughts. If she was listening and seeing through you, and feeling what you might be feeling right now.

Joel watches you. He can see that sense of distant longing in your eyes. 

Remembers when you first started dating, mid 20s and so young, and the first thing you said was you weren't sure about kids. He kind of knew he wanted at least one, but the more he got to know you, the more he was willing to give that idea up if it meant he got to keep you for the rest of his life. It took five years after you got married before he found you trembling but bravely presenting him a positive test, and he had to fight himself to keep all his emotions at bay in case you didn’t want this. You were so quiet, so unreadable. He wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk about it or not. 

Until you both went to your first ultrasound, and from that minute you saw the little blob on the screen, and the nurse said “meet mom and dad!” Your lives changed. The whole car ride home you were babbling excitedly about baby names, the color of the nursery, what your child might look like (you hoped she or he would look like Joel). 

You’re quiet right now like you were that day. He follows your eyes to the scene of all the kids playing together, their parents watching over and encouraging the sandcastle building or warning not to go too far out into the water: a happy family.

"I want more,” you say quietly, not really even addressing Joel as your eyes are stuck forward.

He just chuckles and shakes his head. “Baby, we still are working on getting one. Gotta wait before we can have another."

"I want her to have a sibling,” you mumble, holding your belly with both hands delicately.

He bends down and kisses your hand resting atop your swell. “I’ll give you as many as you want.... so long as it doesn't exceed two.”

Your head snaps back. “Three.”

"If there's 2, then that's 4 of us, which is the perfect number to sit at any restaurant. 4 is right. Plus a normal car sits 4 people comfortably. Do you really want a third baby being subjected to a middle seat?"

"Mini van?"

"We ain't getting a mini van. Over my dead body.”

"Well we can't use the truck!”

"Ya can put a baby seat in the truck."

You giggle at the imagery. "You've thought about this a lot haven't you, Mr. Miller?”

He's going off about why 4 also is the perfect number in most rollercoaster carts, but you can't help but just look at him, smiling warmly to yourself that you get to call this man yours.

“—I love you."

He stops mid sentence. A little jumped, but never surprised by your words. He caresses your cheek lovingly, his soft lips finding yours. "I love you too," he mumbles just hushed enough for only you to hear.

Your foreheads touch, as if you wanted your minds to meld into one. You kiss him again, then again a little more firmly. And more. Again, more—more, again. Until you're making out with him a little too passionately, your hand drifting south to his caress his Daddy belly and his Daddy parts—

He hand grabs your wrist to stop you. “Honey,” he warns. There’s a glint in his eye that is just barely keeping his mature brain functioning. With your tits all swollen and hefty with milk, spilling out of that poor excuse of a bra and begging for attention, along with your ass spilling out of that g-string-looking triangle hiding your more than likely wet flower... He’s unsure if he can't keep his erection at bay if you keep acting like this while looking like this.

"I want you," you breathe, your lips crashing on his.

"I want you too,” he hums between your insatiable teeth biting along his tongue. “But..."

"But?"

"You said no sex at the beach."

"I know. I'm waiting for you to get off your lazy ass and take me in the truck."

-

Joel had never packed shit up quicker in his life. He’s bunched up bottles and towels and sunglasses and whatever junk he had brought all up in a towel with one arm and ran barefoot to the parking lot, his other hand dragging you as you wiggled excitedly behind him. He throws it all in the truckbed and unlatches the door for you, helping you up with a quick smack to your sandy asscheek. He gets in and rolls up the windows. Not bothering to check if anyone is around. 

You pull him close and start shoving his shorts down.

Its hot and rushed and promising—until you quickly realize your baby does not want any truck-fucking business happening because there's no possible configuration the two of you can get in to have sex with the sheer size of your tummy in the way.

He can sense the tears of frustration welling in your eyes, immediately caressing you as he buckles you in and revs the truck to life. 

“It’s okay, its okay, it's okay, we'll have car sex again after she's born, how's that? Just a beautiful girl you are. Too sexy like this. Need to do it on a comfortable bed, that’s all. Can't have ya all to myself whenever I want, huh?"

You nod, desperate to suck up all your tears. Quite frankly you know that you ugly cry, and Joel knows you ugly cry, and you don’t want to ugly cry. You remember that your pussy is wet and waiting to get home so he can spoil you properly.

He continues to adoring rub over your belly, a constant affection of his touch reminding you to stay level. With one hand gripping the wheel, eyes trained forward, he glides down over your naval and urges you to part your legs.

You slip back a bit, giving him the widened access he needs to dip his middle under your bikini bottoms and between your slick folds. You moan loudly, hips arching forward to get more of his finger rubbing along your swollen clit.

“Joooeeeeeel,” you whimper impatiently. He can’t dip any more than an inch of his finger in you due to the stretch of his arm over you belly. Instead, he swipes along your slit, gathering your wetness and smearing it on your nub.

"Ahhh, oh sweetheart, you’re just drippin' me." He retracts his hand and plunges his finger into his mouth, swirling his tongue over and over and sucking your juices clean off with a pop.

You eye his bulge stabbing through his trousers. "I wish I could suck you off right now." You whine, squeezing your achy breasts and hoping he can steal a glance at you.

"Mmm, those were good times, huh?"

You groan, frustrated. Turns out the baby was cock blocking you in numerous ways from doing things you enjoyed in your youth. Your “youth” feeling like it just a few months ago when driving BJs were your favorite way of nearly getting pulled over.

Eventually you do get home, and you throw the seatbelt over. This baby was NOT stealing truck-fucking from you. Not. Today. 

Joel can’t stop your rush. You’re clambering over the dash, knee pressing into Joel’s bulge painfully and elbowing his chest trying to get into a position.

"Okay wait—just—OW! Hon—s-urgghh— HOLD ON.”

You maneuver him to sit at the center of the back seat, with your back facing him and ass hovering over his cock. He’s protectively holding your waist in your squatting position. You sit back slowly, moaning as he penetrates your slit. With both hands on either side of the front seats shoulders in front of you, you begin gently rocking and bouncing.

He holds your belly, guiding you up and down, back and forth on his dick

"Fuck. Fuck, I love you, Joel. I cant wait—nnmmm—to have your baby!"

He grumbles in agreement, watching the space where his length disppears into your sopping cunt and comes back wet and shiny from your arousal.

It feels fantastic after waiting so long, being so pent up and needy for each other since—like 20 minutes ago.

And There's about 18 more seconds of this before you're slowing down. Joel can feel it too: the awkward clench, slipping out of you every few seconds, creaking in the truck's seat, the wet scratchiness of the sand still wedged there, your hand on your back from the pain, unable to bounce on him with the weight of you, the overall struggle that’s paving way for very shitty, very uncomfortable, very unsatisfying sex. You stop altogether and sit in his lap with his cock impaling you, almost casually.

"I'm tired,” you sigh in defeat, out of breath.

Joel just nods behind you. He kisses your shoulder blade and helps you off him.

Baby: 1.

You: 0

“Bed is still open, if ya want it…” you mumble into his whiskered cheek before planting a soft kiss.

His excitement jolts him into a frenzied leap out of the truck. “Bathroom, then bed, and I expect to see your legs spread and naked.”

You giggle and the two of you part in different directions in the house.

Joel quickly uses the bathroom before tripping over his clothes while stripping, eager to finally make you cry about how good he’s going to pleasure you.

Only to find you nestled on the couch curled up with your hand perched under your cheek, drooling into the pillow. Even despite your sunkissed skin, the dryness of your lips from the salty ocean air, the sand you complained between your folds and wedged up your ass by your bikini didn't matter. As the afternoon warm sun bleeds from the drapes lulled you to a gentle rest, secure and safe in your own home. 

Joel kneeled beside you, cupping your cheek soothingly.

"You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

You stir slightly, smiling with a hazy half conscious state. "I know," you respond cheekily, before nuzzling into his hand again and falling back asleep.

Joel stays there for hours, one hand resting over your belly, just watching the woman he's fallen so hard for, wondering what in the world he's done to deserve such a blessing.

- - - -

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[eff4freddie]

After She Left | Nine

Words: 5k

Joel leaves Shauna to race to the mess hall, trying to prevent an attack that will obliterate half of Jackson. You keep Ellie safe while Joel is out for blood. Tommy has his suspicions.

Chapter warnings: Angst, again. Slow burn. Joel continues to be bad at feelings.

A/N: Thank you again for your support of this series. It's putting the slow in slow burn, but these two idiots just refuse to give any ground. Joel is starting to soften, slowly, but will Teach let him in?

Eight | Series Masterlist | Ten

Joel’s legs were moving almost completely without volition. He didn’t even hesitate, taking off towards the mess hall screaming, bellowing, over his shoulder for Shauna to run to Tommy and tell him. There wasn’t any time, there wasn’t any knowing how much time there was, but there were families in that mess hall, there were some of the town’s best men and women and their children and he was going to make damn fuckin’ sure not you. Not Ellie. Not you.

He could feel his breath coming in hard and sharp, the comparatively warm night air doing absolutely nothing to stop his lungs feeling as though they were shredding right there in his chest. He was stumbling, must have looked completely mad, as he ran to the centre of town. Shauna had said the gas line ran over the street. In rebuilding Jackson with next to no equipment they wouldn’t have been able to pull up the concrete to bury it, not with the little tools they’d had. It would have made sense to install all the services above ground without a digger to get them under, but now they were just exposed. Jackson had been built on a fuckin’ fuse and he’d stood at the gates while the guys with the match marched right past him.

Jesus, he’d failed. Again, he had failed. If that mess hall went up before he got there he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to live with himself, knew in his heart he would have to take himself off to a mountain somewhere and let the elements have their way with him. Walk into a horde of clickers. It would be fair and it would be just in this lawless, gnashing world.

Breath coming in too fast to catch it, pulse too hard to hear anything else he rounded onto the main street, bellowing at the top of his lungs to clear the area, waving with his hands over his head. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Tommy running from the other direction, his eyes wild, raising his own hands over his head and bellowing a warning when he saw what Joel was doing. A few other men appeared on Joel’s periphery, confused but on alert regardless, and he screamed to them as he ran past ‘MESS HALL. GONNA GO UP. GET ‘EM OUT. GET ‘EM ALL OUT.’

He was dimly aware of people staring at him, gaping at him as he streamed past. He yelled in their faces to get clear, having to restrain himself from physically pushing them out of the way as he wrenched open the door to the mess hall just as Tommy appeared at the bottom of the steps.

It was all just pure instinct. He’d never been a fire warden, had done safety training for the job sites more than twenty years ago. Didn’t need instructions or a manual, just stood in the doorway as the hall fell silent around him, cupped his hands over his mouth and screamed ‘OUT OUT OUT’.

Tommy pulled him aside, gesturing people to the door now that Joel wasn’t obstructing it anymore, and later when Joel had the wherewithal he’d curse himself for being so stupid as to block the only exit he was screaming at people to use.

The place emptied in minutes. Town Council had a thing about practicing drills: clickers, raiders, fires and floods. Being the only safe haven at the end of the world a fair amount of effort went into preparing for disaster, and everyone was assembled at the muster point by the gate within minutes. Maria was busy doing her headcount.

Out the front of the mess hall Tommy held Joel by his trembling shoulder as he relayed to his younger brother everything that Shauna had said. Tommy sent a bunch of men under the floor to check the foundations, ran his own eye up the gas line because he didn’t trust any of the men, got Joel to do it too when he was done shaking. Whatever Steve and Wren had been planning they hadn’t pulled it off yet. There was still time. Joel felt himself exhale for the first time in an hour.

Over Tommy’s shoulder he saw the townsfolk of Jackson lined up along the street at a safe distance. Moms holding their babies to their chests, husbands with their arms over their wives’ shoulders. He saw you in the crowd, your hand held fast in Ellie’s, and he felt something settle in his chest as his girls watched him work. His girls.

Not his girls.

But in that first moment, before his legs had taken him in the direction of the mess hall, he’d fought a traitorous urge to turn around, head back to your place, pack you and Ellie up in blankets and hunker down with you in your bedroom, let the whole fuckin’ place burn to the ground around him so long as he had you both safe.

He blinked. There was fury bubbling in his belly, he could feel the fire rising up his sternum as he tried to swallow it down.

‘Where they at, Tommy?’ he grunted, his brother having already been anticipating that this would be Joel’s next move, once he was confident the town was safe.

‘Sent Guillaume and a few of the boys to round ‘em up,’ Tommy said, hoping this would be enough for Joel and knowing it wouldn’t be.

‘Gollum?’ Joel said, almost spitting the name in disdain. ‘That fuckhead’s the reason we in this mess. I bet you my life they were the ones skulkin’ around out there that time I saw the tracks, I bet you anythin’ they been planning this for months and I fuckin’ told Golllum…’

‘Ok, easy, easy,’ Tommy said, raising his hands, watching the heat blooming on his brother’s neck. ‘I know, Joel, but we got a proper process.’

Joel scoffed, rolling his eyes, clenching his fists. He was spitting acid now, the left-over adrenaline mixing with bile and misery. ‘We’re a civilisation, Joel,’ Tommy said, almost pleading with him to see some kind of reason. ‘That means we gotta be civil.’

‘I’ll be real civil with ‘em, brother,’ Joel said, his voice low and heavy and full of venom. ‘F’they behave themselves I might even make it quick.’

‘Joel, enough,’ Tommy said. ‘This ain’t…this is for Town Council-’

‘The HELL IT IS’ Joel bellowed, the people still milling around on the street flinching and glancing back at him. He cleared his throat and lowered his gaze.

‘You can’t cut me outta this, Tommy,’ he said, his turn to plead. ‘S’my family they messin’ with.’

‘All our families they messed with, Joel,’ Tommy said.

‘What you think they been doin’ to Shauna all this time?’ Joel said, and Tommy blanched a little. There wasn’t any evidence, Shauna had always implied more or less that she’d agreed to whatever it was they got up to on the side of cold mountains, but Joel knew how to push Tommy’s buttons, having spent the better half of his little brother’s youth installing them himself.

There was a shout over the hill leading down to the stables, a cry and a string of insults that, even though neither Tommy or Joel could make out the words, were nevertheless unkind.

Tommy pulled on Joel’s arm to try and hold him back, but Joel was already streaming over to the sound, his longer legs striding strong despite his older years, his eyes narrowing. Tommy knew this look. It was the look Joel got when he was ready to do anything to defend what was his. He stumbled after his brother, motioning for Maria in the hope that her cooler head might prevail.

Joel could see Wren being held between two of Guillaume’s men, his shoulder bent at what appeared to be a truly uncomfortable angle.

‘They’ve dislocated my shoulder!’ Wren screamed, looking a little green, Joel thought.

‘That’s the last of your worries,’ Tommy said, catching up to Joel and a little out of breath. ‘Wanna tell us about the mess hall?’

‘What about the mess hall?’ Wren asked, and Joel was ready, in that moment, to rip his dislocated shoulder clean from the rest of his body.

‘You fuckin’ sick piece of shit, going to blow it all up with all those kids in there, all those women. People’s fuckin’ families?’ Joel was aware he was spitting, that his face was red, that he was forcing his finger into Wren’s face, but the shock was wearing off now, and pure blind rage was seeping in where it had left, and he couldn’t stop thinking about pulling Ellie’s charred little body out of the wreckage, trying to figure if it was her by her shoes and her proximity to you.

He was going to vomit if he didn’t stop thinking about it. He steeled himself, let the world spin around his head for a moment longer before he pulled it all back into focus by sheer force of will.

‘You and Steve, you sick fucks, been planning this the whole time? When we fed and clothed ya, gave you fuckin’ jobs!’

‘Joel, easy,’ Tommy said, because he could see that Wren was near tears, that the younger man looked dumbfounded, and that dealing with 200 pounds of Miller in the form of a man-sized fist wasn’t going to get them to a resolution.

‘What are you…’ Wren was asking, but then there were more footsteps, and Steve was being dragged along the street to join the party by another of the patrol, and this time Shauna was trailing behind him, eyes wet and hands wringing in front of her. She moved straight to Maria, who wrapped her up in her arms.

‘Just fuckin’ confess to it so we can get down to the punishment,’ Joel was saying, even as Tommy was trying to pull him back so that the Council could form a proper impromptu trial.

‘We didn’t do fuckin’ nothing,’ Steve said, because he was quicker on the uptake it seemed. ‘Whatever she’s said to you it’s fucking bullshit.’

Joel looked at Shauna, who was starting to sob.

‘They said if I said anything they’d kill me,’ she said, eyes on the ground as Maria practically held her up. ‘They said I had to do it, I had to get the plans, I’m so sorry,’ she said.

Wren was shaking his head at her, panic on his features, but Joel was too far gone to notice or care, too interested instead in punching his features through to the other side of his skull.

‘But I couldn’t let them hurt the kids,’ she stuttered, turning her eyes to Joel now, who held her in his gaze. He could feel some of the fury ebbing away at the sight of her so distraught. Could feel a kind of inevitability settling in over his bones, a sadness and an understanding of what had to be done.

‘You fuckin’ lying whore!’ Steve screamed at her, his neck straining from the force of it. Shauna shuddered and took a step back and Joel found himself moving over to her, taking the other side from Maria to help hold her up, as Shauna transferred to his shoulder and buried her face into his neck.

‘You don’t talk about the women of Jackson that way,’ Tommy was saying as Maria nodded her head. Robert, who had been watching the proceedings and taking it all in, pulled Tommy, Maria and a few of the other Councillors aside.

In the silence, Shauna continued to whimper, reaching up to hold firm to the front of Joel’s shirt. He could feel his heartbeat settling, could feel the ache as he breathed over scorched lungs. ‘I’m so scared, Joel,’ Shauna whispered to him, and he rested his chin on the top of her head.

‘I know, I gotcha,’ he said, as he wrapped both arms around her shivering form. He cast a glance at Wren, who was staring at the ground unable to move with his shoulder sustaining what Joel now saw was likely a bad break, and then at Steve, who was watching Shauna with a cold intensity that set Joel’s teeth on edge.

‘Get your fuckin’ eyes off her,’ he hissed, and Steve, instead, raised his eyes to him.

He started to shake his head, slowly. ‘You cunt-struck fool,’ he said to Joel, almost with pity. If he hadn’t been holding Shauna up, Joel would have knocked him out then and there.

Robert cleared his throat, the conference apparently over.

‘For conspiring against the town of Jackson and its citizens, you are banished,’ he said, simply and quickly. Efficient and without fanfare.

‘That’s it?’ Joel said, sputtering. ‘They could still get back in here, the fuckers know the place like the back of their hands. They’ve got plans.’

Shauna whimpered again a little in his arms. No thanks to you, Joel thought, and then felt bad about it.

Robert continued to address the men. ‘Tomorrow morning you will be taken on horseback to a destination two and a half hours ride from here. You will be dropped off with no supplies or weapons. You will not return. Should you attempt to darken our gates again you will be shot on sight. Do you understand?’

‘Just shoot us now, you fuckin’ cowards,’ Steve said, the fight receding from him so that now he was just sort of swaying in the arms of the men. ‘Don’t just let a clicker do it.’

‘The Town Council’s decision is final. You will be placed in remand until the morning. We will ride out at dawn.’

Robert nodded to his councillors and to Joel and strode off. Joel was angry but he had to admire Robert’s composure. He considered, not for the first time, that Robert was exactly the man for the job he held.

Guillaume and his men dragged Steve and Wren away. Wren was gently weeping, his legs not working so well anymore now that he was almost bent double from the pain. Shauna didn’t lift her head from Joel’s chest to watch them go. She stayed, practically glued to his hip, until Joel had no other choice but to take her home.

--

You’d seen the look on Joel’s face, had ushered Ellie under your arm and away from the crowd before she had to see him rip those two men apart with his teeth. He was furious, like an adder poised to strike, while Tommy stood beside him and tried to keep a level head. Rumours were already swirling about what had happened at the mess hall by the time you turned up your street with Ellie behind you, and you blocked them out. The truth would become apparent whether you got caught up in the eddying flow of it.

Your main concern was just Ellie. You did the only thing you could think to do with a stressed-out teenager in your house: you fed her. Standing at the bench with her peeling potatoes the two of you discussed absolutely nothing at all – what air conditioning used to feel like, how loud planes were in the sky, what it was like to go to the mall and spend the whole afternoon just looking at clothes – knowing that Joel would come for her.

After a long silence, while you lay the potato slices down in a pan and poured cheese over the top to bake, Ellie finally spoke.

‘Was he a bad man?’ she asked you, and you sighed.

‘I don’t know, I didn’t know him all that well.’

Ellie looked at you sharply, surprise on her features.

‘What do you mean? You’ve spent nearly every day with us.’

You felt the thud of realisation in your chest. Joel. Was Joel a bad man.

‘Ellie, why do you ask that?’ you questioned, but she turned away from you, her shoulders rounding over. You watched as she tugged on her long sleeves, even in the heat of the kitchen.

‘He gets that look…’ she said, and you found yourself nodding.

‘He would never hurt you, or people he cared about. That looked to me like a man fighting to keep his family safe.’

‘Which family?’ she asked. You put the tray gently on the bench, to take a moment, to steady yourself.

‘Ellie…’ you started, but there was the sound of the front door opening, and heavy footfalls in the hall. Ellie was already moving towards him.

‘Ellie!’ he was calling, booming into the quiet of your house.

‘In here!’ she called back, and they met in the doorway, nearly toppling over with the force in which they collided into each other, Joel holding her fast to his chest.

‘Are you alright? Are you hurt?’ he was saying, and she was shaking her head. He pulled her away from him, cradling her head in both of his hands as he studied her, from her scalp to her toes. ‘Nothin’? Nothin’?’ he asked again, and she stilled in his hands.

‘What was that, Joel?’ she asked, and you watched as his eyes slid closed, pulling her into his body again.

‘Nothin’ babygirl, it was nothin’.’ He muttered.

You swallowed harshly, something thick and hot in your throat suddenly making it hard to breathe. He finally noticed you, his brown eyes snapping to yours as you watched him cradle his daughter.

‘You alright?’ he asked you, genuine concern written over his face.

You nodded. ‘We did just fine,’ you said, quietly, but he shook his head in response.

‘No, you,’ he clarified. You weren’t sure if you were alright, actually. Weren’t sure if you could instruct every cell in your body to stop screaming for him to reach out for you, grasp your wrist so gentle in his hand and pull you into his chest to stand by Ellie, your nose tucked in under his jaw and feeling the heat of his pulse there on your skin.

You exhaled, slowly, steeled yourself. It hadn’t been anything, and it wouldn’t be. You nodded your head at him, not trusting your own voice under the strain of the moment.

He seemed satisfied, his eyes gently closing again as Ellie wriggled out from under his arms, straightening her shirt and wiping her eyes with her sleeve, trying to hide it by turning away from you both.

‘What’s gonna happen to them?’ she asked, and he sighed.

‘They’re gettin’ kicked out,’ he said, and you watched the anger bloom over her face.

‘That’s it?’ she asked, her voice rising as she worked herself up. ‘That’s bullshit! They nearly killed like 50 people!’

‘Easy,’ Joel said, raising his hands. You watched as his brows saddled.

‘Ellie, come help me set the table,’ you said, trying to divert her. She was still caught up in the indignation of it, though, like all teenagers when faced with an injustice.

‘That’s crap though, they shouldn’t be allowed to live!’

It jarred you for a second, a teenager calling for the death penalty, and you wondered for the first time in a while what the world had become. Such that it was, such that it would ever be again.

‘Enough,’ Joel said, quiet but deadly, and Ellie jutted out her lower lip, but stopped. You could see a well-worn dynamic playing out in front of you. You felt out of place in the middle of it.

‘We oughta get goin’,’ he said to her, and he looked exhausted all of a sudden, far older than his years.

‘We made dinner,’ Ellie said, angry and pouty still.

‘I won’t eat all this, I can bring some around,’ you offered, and realised you had already betrayed her, that you were supposed to campaign for them to stay. You faltered, looking between her and Joel. Did you want them to stay? Was it a good idea? To even offer? ‘Unless you…’

‘We’ve imposed enough on Teach tonight,’ Joel said, not looking at you, and you felt the sting of the rejection even though you had been expecting it, had been reminding yourself not to hope for any different.

Ellie stomped down the hall, and you heard your door swing open so hard you wouldn’t have been surprised if she wrenched it free. Joel looked at his feet, his eyes only ever flitting in your direction, his face pink.

‘You doin’ alright?’ he asked.

‘Nothing for you to feel guilty about, Joel,’ you said, quickly, and he sighed. You watched him flex his fingers once, twice, on his left hand. He pulled it up to his chest and rested it over his heart.

‘-nk you for still seein’ her,’ he said, and you shrugged.

‘I care about her, Joel. More than I care about you. Or me.’

He nodded. He knew it was true, he had always known it, and he knew he had used it against you when it suited him, when it meant he could wonder closer to you, when he could feel the heat of you gentle on his skin.

‘M’sorry…’ he started, but Ellie was calling for him from the front porch.

‘We goin’ old man OR WHAT?’ she yelled. You hid a little smirk, which Joel returned. Suddenly you were both shy, but some of the weight had shifted. You stood firmer on your two feet.

‘G’bye Joel,’ you said. ‘I can bring some of this around if you need me to…’

‘Shauna’s cookin’,’ he said, without thinking, and then suddenly thinking too much when he looked up and saw the look of shock pass over your face.

‘Oh…’ you said.

‘She ain’t good at it…’ he tried, to see if he could get the lightness back, to see if he could get you to smile. He could get through it if he just got you to smile.

You felt yourself falter. You hated it, hated the feeling and yourself for letting yourself feel it, for putting yourself in the position to.

Joel stared at you, helpless and deflating. The back of his neck ached from tension, his hands still tremoring from the adrenaline, from the fury.

‘Y’know you’re welcome over anytime,’ he said, because you were suddenly so still, your breath so light he could barely see your chest rise and fall, and he hated the idea of you over here alone, hated the idea of you missing your family, your friends, Ellie and maybe even him a little bit, if he still deserved it. He coughed, clearing his throat, trying hard to ignore the sound of Ellie pacing on your front porch. ‘I know I don’t deserve any more of your time, and I ain’t askin’ for it, I just…’

You watched as he seemed unable to decide what to do with his hands, digging them into his pockets, pulling them out again to rest on his hips, crossing them over his chest. You watched his hands because it was easier than looking at his face, easier than having to look him in the eyes while he actively, outwardly pitied you.

‘You know I had a life here before you got here, Joel,’ you said, your voice clear and unwavering. ‘You know I was here a long while before you? Don’t look at me some lost little puppy now that you’ve decided not to play with me anymore. I have a job and…friends and…enough memories of a family that loved me to fuel me ‘til my last sunset. I miss them and I love them but I’m not sad, Joel.’

You lifted the pan of potatoes and slammed them, a little more forcefully than you intended, into the oven. ‘Go home to Shauna, whatever she’s cooked up for you. You do what you need to do, Joel.’

He cared about you, he knew it then by the way he wanted to wrap you in his arms and kiss you until dawn even while you told him off. By the way he would let you yell at him every minute for the rest of his days if it just meant you were talking to him, if it meant you got firey and animated and more yourself.

He knew you were shooing him away. And he would go, in just a minute. ‘I ain’t sorry for it,’ he said, when you looked like you might have been ready to listen. ‘M’sorry for how I treated ya, for how I reacted when…everything changed. But I ain’t sorry for kissin’ ya, and I ain’t sorry for that…’ he gestured to the couch over his shoulder, and you resolutely didn’t look where he was pointing. ‘I’d do that every day of the week, sweet girl, if it weren’t for how things are…and if I thought for any second y’might let me.’

He came forward and you stood, hypnotised, unable to step back even as he lifted his hands and cradled your head in them, just as he had minutes ago with Ellie, just as you had wished, quietly, and only so that Rose could hear, that he would hold you the same.

‘I regret nothin’ about you, only how I handled it, and for that I’ll be sorry for the rest of my time.’ He stared into your eyes, not wavering until he could see that you had understood, that you had heard him. You felt tears threatening, and you were so fucking sick of crying over this man, but right then you wanted him to kiss you even though you knew, for all the heat of his gaze, he was really saying he never would again.

‘Enough now…’ you said, taking his hands from your face and settling them back down at his sides. He nodded.

‘I know, baby,’ he said, quiet as he leant forward anyway and rested his forehead on yours. ‘Enough,’ he agreed, his words mingling with the hot tears on your cheeks.

--

Joel stood next to Robert, Tommy and Billy at the gate. He watched, closely, as Steve and Wren were dragged into their saddles, their arms still tied behind their backs. Wren had gone eerily quiet, apparently having passed out in the night from the pain, and he looked sweaty and pale now. Joel knew that sending him beyond the gates in this state was a death sentence, but he was finding it hard to care. His mind kept turning time back to the moment Shauna’s words hit him – mess hall, gas line – and the way he had immediately thought of Ellie, and of you. He would kill these two men a thousand times over if it meant he never had to feel that again. He was getting too old for it. He couldn’t bear a new way to fail his girls.

Not his girls.

Shauna had stayed, tucked up in his bed while Joel offered to take the couch, and he rubbed at the crick in his neck now as a result. There wasn’t fanfare, just the creak of the opening gates as Guillaume and his men rounded on them.

‘Follow the river, two-three hours West, there’s some mountain ranges, some rapids. They won’t get back,’ Billy instructed, and Guillaume nodded. Steve glared at Joel from the saddle. He stared, impassively, back.

‘Town’s a shithole anyway,’ Steve said, and Joel grinned at him.

‘Yeah, but this shithole still ain’t yours,’ he replied, because he couldn’t help himself.

The horses took off, Billy pulling the gate closed behind them. Joel stood watch until the sound of the hooves ebbed away.

Robert tipped his hat to the brothers. Tommy turned back towards the stables, and Joel followed on his heels.

‘Thank God that’s over,’ Joel said, and Tommy clicked his jaw a little. ‘What?’ he asked.

‘Don’t feel right,’ Tommy said, without elaborating. Joel felt the urge to roll his eyes, his emerging need to believe it was dealt with for a moment overpowering him, before he remembered Tommy had never dismissed him even when he came, panic stricken, believing there to be monsters beyond the gate.

‘Tell me,’ he said, and Tommy sighed.

‘The look on Wren’s face…’ Tommy started, and Joel interrupted almost immediately.

‘They were guilty as sin, course he looked…’

‘Were they, Joel? We didn’t exactly investigate. He looked…surprised? I don’t know, confused?’

‘He thought he’d done such a good job of stitchin’ up Shauna he never figured she’d tell…’ Joel reasoned. ‘He was surprised because she said somethin’, is all.’

‘He seem like the scheming sort, Joel? The kind of fuckin…mastermind…’

Joel thought back to Wren, the way he was quiet and liked tending the animals, the way he was kind of reedy, kind of skinny, in a way that was more than just about starving half to death on the side of a mountain and somewhat genetic, somewhat constitutional.

‘Steve, though…’

‘Yeah, Steve,’ Tommy agreed.

‘Nasty fucker.’

‘Mmm.’

The two brothers fell into step, and then into silence.

‘Don’t see why she’d throw ‘em under the bus, she ain’t like that.’ Joel said, answering his brother’s unspoken question.

Tommy looked up at his big brother, at the way Joel’s eyes were narrow, resolute, in the early morning light.

‘You’re probably right, it was just the heat of the moment, I guess,’ Tommy said. ‘So much happenin’ at once.’

Joel nodded at him, satisfied. They arrived at the stables, Tommy reaching for a pitchfork and handing it, without ceremony, to Joel.

‘Whatchu doin’ with that, brother?’ Joel asked, refusing to take what was offered to him.

‘Muck out,’ Tommy said, nodding at the stable floor. Joel backed away, his hands in the air.

‘No, sir, that ain’t my job.’

‘Ain’t mine either but we got our best men out there right now, who else is gonna do it?’

Wren would have done it, Joel thought. Wren probably had been doing it, quietly, for weeks.

‘C’mon big man, you ain’t afraid of dirt,’ Tommy said, goading his brother with the absolute certainty that it would work.

‘Ain’t the dirt I’m worried about,’ he said, but he was grinning now, and Tommy was grinning back at him. He reached over and took the pitchfork.

It had been a while since he’d done this kind of honest, grunt work, Joel thought. There was a kind of poetry in it. Maybe all this time things were just leading to the eventual inevitability that he would have to shovel shit.

Taglist:

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[acourtofthought]

"lots of other characters that I'm pretty / wildly in love with, and I'd love the chance to tell their stories (and show other parts of their world)".

SJM was definitely in love with Nessian and while she was excited to tell their story, I wouldn't say they gave us a detailed look at "other parts of their world" outside of that which we'd seen through Feyre's pov. We had minor visits to the bog and continent but nothing new in terms of court related visits.

So who is a character she's wildly in love with that could take us elsewhere in their world?

Around 2:14, SJM talks of how Lucien has always been one of her favorite characters

In another interview she mentions how Lucien's character was based off Sam Heughan's portrayal of Jamie Fraser and she even thanks the actor in her ACOTAR acknowledgements.

Her love of Jamie Fraser is further confirmed in an interview from MuggleNet:

"I went to the Outlander castle. I’m the biggest Outlander fan, so I took a photo in front of that like “Maybe Jamie was standing here!”

So I think it's safe to say that Lucien falls under the above category AND he can take us to many different courts outside of the NC, the Human Lands and even the continent.

We also have SJM telling us that she'd love to write spin off books for both of the sisters someday. ⬇️

We have confirmation that she knew who the first two spin-off books were going to be about and that she'd already done research for Elain's book. There's also the mention that if SJM weren't an author she'd be a florist or DJ ⬇️

She writes how she lets her characters lead her, where she loves the times where she's subconsciously been planting seeds and there's an exciting moment of discovery when the character reveals themself to her ⬇️

Her explaining how Elucien became mates is exactly what she described above. And the notable similarities in ACOTAR for both Lucien and Elain before she even knew they were going to be Mates are (to me) some of the subconscious seeds she was referring to. ⬇️

SJM said the following of Elain: ⬇️

She tells us her energy would match well with Elain's. We have a response from her telling us she'd be a florist (a very Elain like career) in another life. We know she LOVES Outlander and the actor she said Lucien was based off of. SJM doesn't equal Elain and Lucien doesn't wholly equal Jamie Fraser but it's ridiculous not to see why she made them mates.

This isn't proof of an Elucien endgame but what it tells me is that Lucien is absolutely a real contender for Elain regardless of what it currently looks like.

Especially when she tells us this about Az:

"but I'm kinda scared of him".

I know she loves all her characters, she said she'd date all her characters but....she wrote Elain as being bothered by cruelty in SF, made sure to mention how cruel Az can be with his victims in SF, and the above interview is from ACOFAS (the same book where she had Rhys say Az sometimes scared the shit out of him). 🤷

This is also how she prefers her couples: ⬇️

That's definitely NOT what we see from Az towards Elain in SF. He doesn't view her as his equal when he says she shouldn't be exposed to the Trove, he doesn't view her as his equal when he gives himself credit for saving Elain but fails to mention everyone she saved, and he doesn't view her as his equal when he confirms he hides who he is from her.

And for the arguments that because E/riel wanted to kiss and Az questioned the Cauldron which must equal proof of love, I'm just going to add this:

It really doesn't matter what the relationship between two characters look like right now, in her own words SJM says she will find a way for the character (reader) to see what she wants them to see, making those red flags easily overlooked.

I don't think Elucien's find it all that difficult to spot the red flags between E/riel but even if some in the fandom disagree, it doesn't mean SJM wasn't been planning for it all along.

[zeivira]

I just realized both heinkel and subaru both have feelings of inferiority to their parents (which caused subaru to be a neet. )heinkel is nowhere near his parents strength and felt the weight of his parents legacywhile subaru felt inferior to his father and is burdened with being called kenichis son when asked about who he'd make the protagonist if not Subaru, said Heinkel would be the mc.

Heinkel met his wife ( who would tell him that she is sure he can be the next sword saint so she was his rem ) before he had a crisis like Subaru did so he was able to bounce back sooner than him. But with her now gone and Rein easily being better than him it was like a rubber band and shot him even further back

Honestly feel like Aganua if Subaru was based of henikel

Both alcoholics

Both crippling depression

Both fueled by hatred

boboth subaru and heinkel have a girl in a coma who they are trying to wake from it.

Absolutely yes to all of this. Subaru and Heinkel have lots of parallels and I LIIIIIVE for all of them because – while they both faced similar circumstances, the way they dealt with them was completely different.

And arguably, Heinkel did better—at first, at least. Mostly because he did worse. Let me explain:

Heinkel and Subaru both deal with huge expectations—they both fail to meet them. But as far as we know, Subaru actually did meet them at first??? He was popular, had good marks, and people liked him!!! Then he had to put in an effort, didn’t, failed, felt shame about it, and ended up shutting in because of it.

Meanwhile Heinkel was a failure from the get-go! He doesn’t know greatness. Until he meets Louanna—then he does something right??? He has mommy and daddy issues and some people try to ruin his (already pretty bad, because of the aforementioned expectations) reputation, but he still manages to be a good husband.

Cheers for him, cheers for him.

Until he doesn’t, because something bad happened to Louanna, she fell into a coma and the one thing he was good at… he is not anymore.

And I think this is the core difference!!! (I might be wrong, but everyone, please tell me if you disagree).

Subaru dealt terribly with failure at first because he knows how greatness feels. Thus, he shut in.

Heinkel dealt decently with failure at first because he was never great. Then he does, and when he fails, all his previous insecurities return.

But one went through the crisis as a teen, and the other went through the crisis as an adult.

The fact Heinkel is better when Wilhelm gets erased shows his daddy issues are what affects his interpretation of the entire world. More than Louanna’s coma itself, even.

I headcanon that part of the reason Wilhelm is so kind to Subaru is because he feels Subaru is similar to Heinkel, and as he totally failed to bond with his son, he projects his relationship there and tries to bond with a blank state Heinkel instead.

I never really read Aganau If so I can’t talk about that Subaru, but the *from zero* speech always felt to me like the moment in which Subaru learnt to accept failure as something that you deal with to later on try again better, instead of something you must live with and can’t change.

Heinkel’s only success was his wife, so his way to become successful again is to bring her back?

I might be rambling now.  

Anyway, @everyone please feel free to add your thoughts on this. I would love to hear different takes

[butterflydm]

wot rewatch 1x7: the dark along the ways

spoilers for s1 of WoT and through Knife of Dreams in the books; minor spoilers for one of the s2 character blurbs

Aaaaah, my angel Tigraine is here to kick ass and have a baby. This cold open floored when when I first saw it and it still floors me. It's amazing. I'm looking forward to more Maiden action in s2 so much. Not just the fighting here, but the emotion -- how frustrated she is that they won't just let her have her baby in peace, how she finally has a moment to herself and then this new potential threat shows up and we hang in that moment. Fantastic episode opener and it really makes me excited about what we might get in s2 for the cold opens.

So... given that she left Andor to chase a prophecy to save the world and has found herself on Dragonmount about to give birth... Tigraine could probably guess who her kid was going to be at this point, I feel like? She was very well educated, first in Andor and then in the White Tower, so I'm sure she would have known the Prophecies (maybe she even figured out when she learned that the female warrior society of the Aiel was called the Maidens of the Spear?)

The Emond's Field people want to get Mat but Moiraine must refuse because he's literally in recasting limbo right now. I love how Rand just instantly lost all trust in Moiraine the second she refuses to open the Waygate. She won him to her side by helping Mat, then immediately lost him once she stopped. Rand (and Nynaeve) are so protective & defensive over Mat in this episode and I really love it.

Of course, Rand is now probably also about, like 75% sure that he's actually the Dragon and so there's no need to worry about Mat anyway. But Moiraine is absolutely not sure who the Dragon is and it very well could be Mat (imo if she wasn't worried that Mat was a potential channeler, it would be pointless to send the Red Ajah after him).

Rand's little despairing looks back at the closed Waygate and his instant defense of Mat against anyone who says a word against him (even Egwene): catnip to a newly-minted Cauthor shipper.

Yeah, Mat is 100% Moiraine's least favorite child -- she 'knows' what choice he would make, she says (the wrong one). So, there are actually two different ways that the show could go with Mat -- Moiraine could be either right or wrong that Mat would make the wrong/evil choice and it depends on how they've decided to handle the Seanchan. Because if they follow the same storyline that the books did, Mat does essentially choose to embrace evil along that path (even if Jordan never admits it) when he decides that he's okay being married to an unremorseful and unwilling-to-change slaver. If Tuon stays the same way that she is in the books, then Moiraine was right about Mat. If Mat and Tuon's storyline gets changed/updated to be less... awful, then Moiraine will have been wrong about Mat.

Lan tries to tease Nynaeve to cheer her up but fails, so he tries to reassure her instead, telling her that Mat is safer where they left him. It's a sweet little moment.

Both Egwene and Rand are more open in this moment than they were in episode 2 and are able to share a snuggle as they sleep (but Egwene also checks in with Rand first this time and waits for him to essentially nonverbally give her a 'yes' before snuggling in). Rand is also a lot less raw about the breakup and they're hovering in a weird 'maybe we're not broken up after all' space.

People's worst fears clawing at them is a lot more informative kind of existential terror than just gore-whispers.

Honestly, given how on-edge everyone is put by the Black Wind, it would more surprising if it didn't lead to tensions and arguments. That was a rough experience for them all.

Lots of Lan backstory in this episode! His title, people from his past, etc.

Poor Moiraine looks so exhausted. Pretty much now until the end of the season. This is also when Moiraine has the message sent to the Red Ajah about Mat, which Lan is not around to hear, I note.

Perrin engages in some Fainspotting!

Oh, I notice that when Min serves drinks to the ta'veren, she keeps her eyes down. To avoid seeing all the viewings maybe? And I'm pleased to say that show!Min remains likable on rewatch, despite my bad experience with book!Min in my reread! She actually is a world-weary and well-traveled woman who has been through Too Much and is Tired instead of feeling like a tweenager cosplaying as one. And Moiraine literally has to blackmail her into sharing her viewings about the EF5.

And reading the new s2 summary about Min also tells us why Moiraine threatening her with exposure is enough to make her crack -- she was forced to be a carnival act! Yikes, Min's aunts!

Also that does look like the same baby from Rand's vision in the next episode, at least to me, so I think that's what she was seeing.

The EF5 all confronting Moiraine. I do wonder if it was the whispers of the Ways that made her decide to open up to them about how the non-Dragons will die when the Dragon faces the Dark One. And though the group does fracture into an argument after this discussion, they do present a united front against Moiraine here.

This argument also does a good job in laying down Egwene's philosophy and her reasons for wanting to do this. And we get another passionate defense of Mat from Rand.

It's fascinating how quickly Nynaeve jumps the conclusion that Rand and Perrin are 'fighting over' Egwene (something that both Rand and Egwene find initially baffling). I wonder how long Nynaeve has been expecting this to come up as an issue between them, that she goes there so quickly. Back in ep1, she sends Perrin away from Egwene's celebration to spend time with his wife and then in this episode, she notices Perrin noticing Egwene and Rand snuggling together. She is on "Perrin->Egwene HIGH ALERT" at all times and it's just kinda fascinating. If she'd just let them argue, I sincerely doubt that Perrin would ever have let anything slip.

Perrin's staring at Rand's mouth while saying "only woman I ever loved was my wife" moment. With a single shot, Perrin comes across as infinitely less heterosexual than his book counterpart.

We get some more good Lan content in his scenes with Moiraine and then Nynaeve. It's nice to get to see a piece of Lan's culture and for him to share it with Nynaeve. All the scenes that he has with both of them in this episode are really good. Lan comparing his devotion to Moiraine to Nynaeve's protectiveness over the Two Rivers' kids; I like it.

And this scene with Egwene and Rand is his last stab at denial. He wants to pretend that he can still be Egwene's husband/Warder. But if he doesn't give up on his denial, he might be condemning Egwene, Perrin, & Nynaeve to a painful death. What Egwene says here (that she will stand by Rand if he's the Dragon) is also related to why he goes off on his own and pretends to be dead imo -- he knows his friends wouldn't abandon him and so he has to abandon them for their safety.

And we reach the point where everything is at a crisis point and Rand can't keep denying every strange thing that's been building up since the night the Trollocs attacked.

This scene with Rand and Min is very good. Again, show!Min is doing a lot better than book!Min. Also, Min, I'm holding you to that "three beautiful women" viewing.

Aah, the kindness of how the show did Rand's birth really gets to me. The story is so much... colder in the books. That show!Tigraine gets to have a last moment of connection before she dies, and gets some assurance that her kid will be taken care of. It was an incredibly compassionate change to make.

lol, the poor awkwardness of the three Emond's Fielders (before they realize that Rand has disappeared with Moiraine).

Moiraine's thoughts, probably: "shit, it's one of the boys. Well... at least it's not Mat".

[just-some-guy-joust]

Just Some Guy OC Tourney - Side B: Round 3

Rules:

do NOT be mean to anyone or any characters in these polls. you MUST clarify if you are joking/teasing or you will be blocked. if you are someone who entered an oc into this and you are mean to other contestants you will be disqualified

do NOT claim a character doesn't deserve to be here. yes including your own. be nice

if you are posting propaganda you have to @ tag us, including if your propaganda is in the reblogs. it is difficult to tell when something is or isn't propaganda. anything not tagging us will likely be missed

please don't hesitate to let me know if i messed something up!

have fun, hype each other up <3 thank you

Professor Morelle Da Capo | She/her | @kira-moonrabbit

CW: The source, Lobotomy Corporation, has a large list of content warnings. This character by herself though is fine

Robotwoman who is famous for being dedicated. She works 24/7. Her hobbies include "logging everyone's opinions about her" and "standing still thinking about bicycles"

~

Mendel Warrenpeace | He/him | @bittersweetbonbon

CW: Transformation horror, isekai, lightning strikes

Mendel was just a normal guy, who happened to love Toontown: Corporate Clash *so* much that he played it nearly 24/7, maxing out all of his gags and disguises, even going so far as to become a beta tester for experimental VR haptic suits, just so he could be more immersed in the game. However, he was foolish enough to play the game in VR during the most intense lightning storm seen in his area, got struck by said lightning, and was isekaed into the game itself. Now trapped in the world he used to adore, at level one no less, he would do anything to get back home, up to and including re-beating the game, no matter how strenuous running around and throwing pies at robots is in "real life". Of course, beating the game isn't going to free him from Toontown's inky clutches, but we don't have to tell him that, right? Of course not.

Promos: He has a blog at mendelwarrenpeace.tumblr.com and a WIP toyhouse page at toyhou.se/26655994.mendel-warrenpeace

~

Full images and descriptions under the cut!

Professor is a machine who was built to replace employees! Well, a prototype that failed that they put to work. Her robotic-ness serves not to reduce her Just-Some-Guyness, but rather to amplify it. She logs everything that happens to her. She loves to partake in tasks and objectives. However this does not mean she is an emotionless beep-boop, but instead she has the personality of a tired but kind old lady. The kind who has an endless supply of caramels in a bowl somewhere. However she has no idea how to form her own preferences. She's factory default in everything. Plain as water. She sees the hells of being in lobcorp as normal and natural. One time she went to another branch and was absolutely delighted by a "hang in there, baby!" poster as though it was the cutest thing she's ever seen.

Mendel is, quite literally, so just some guy that I refuse to develop what he was like or what his name was pre-isekae, because his past is literally so generic and unimportant. He was NPC-core. He was nothingburger. His only friend is a 17-year-old who physically cannot stop themself from stealing things. Even now his only hobby is playing video games all day. He almost died a few days after being isekaed because he didn't want to leave his house. He's scared to walk around because he thinks the robots will shoot him point-blank just for being near them. I want to grab him and spin him around like that gif of a chimpanzee. He's even a furry.

[ladyrijus]

So I'm going absolutely insane over Ocarina of Time Zelda and Twilight Princess Zelda again. This is fine.

Imagine you're Princess Zelda, a child who had to bear the consequences of a civil war your father failed to truly end, all because no one ever took your warnings seriously. Imagine, despite being blessed by the Golden Goddesses, you fucked over your kingdom so bad in the past seven years, that the only way you think to repent for what you have done is to send your hero back in time to warn everyone about Ganondorf and save what used to be, all while giving your hero his childhood back.

Surely that would work... right?

As your hero disappears before your eyes, you commend yourself silently for your wisdom, never realizing that your plan was just as, if not more, naive than gathering all the spiritual stones only for Ganondorf to ultimately seize them.

But it doesn't matter how far into hell you've damned both your present and past world. You're so blinded by your grief and regret, that what you have within you now is an all-consuming desire for revenge. Sealing Ganondorf in the Sacred Realm wasn't enough to satiate your sorrow; what you want is for him to keep losing. You tell yourself as you ascend the throne that you did it for your people, but in reality, you had done it for yourself. It was the only way to deal with the pain.

So your hero warns everyone of Ganondorf's evil intentions and gracefully makes his exit, his duty finished. Somehow, it just makes things worse. Ganondorf still gets his piece of the Triforce, and though he is banished to a realm where all of your worst dissenters go, he's still alive. Your past self can't stomach the fact that one of the Seven Sages of the Sacred Realm is dead thanks to you, and she fears that, with the Triforce of Power, the Gerudo King will come back. It's only a matter of time.

It's only safe to say, then, that your past self must have either dedicated herself to the eradication of the Gerudo tribe or let it happen, because there's no one left now but the vengeful dead in the desert with the tribe's namesake. Was it to capture Twinrova, his allies in witchcraft? Was it to ensure that no one of the tribe would be able to help Ganondorf escape?

Was it worth it?

The worst part is that your past self never thought to ask the sages why the Royal Family had jurisdiction over the Mirror of Twilight, never thought to consider that maybe it is a bad idea to put those who think ill of the Royal Family of Hyrule in one realm together.

Imagine you're Princess Zelda, and you're locked in your castle while you watch your kingdom crumble in the twilight. You realize, as you surrender to the King of Twilight, that you've been dealt an unlucky hand. A bloody history is your birthright, and all you can think in your crushing guilt is to stand down, stand down, stand down, because your ancestors have done enough trying to take matters into their own hands, trying to control others.

"Some princess she is," your people must think, but they will never understand that the blood of the Gerudo, the Twili, and even the Bulblin tribe is on your hands. And so you keep your head bowed down, even if it is unbecoming of you.

When the time comes, you give your life to the Twilight Princess, because it is not fair for her to suffer from the actions of your ancestors. You ignore her screams of rejection and let your health become hers. It's fair, it's right. And you tell yourself everyday that you did it for your people and hers, but in reality, you had done it for yourself. It was the only way to deal with pain.

Ganondorf does die in the end, but it is not a happy occasion. You feel neither relief nor peace at the sight of the Master Sword struck through his chest. You bring a hand to your own breast reflexively, and bow your head down out of deference for the once respected king.

It is the least he deserves.

You also murmur a prayer for salvation on his behalf, even if the Light Spirits won't heed it. Because you understand that long before he succumbed to the corruption of the Triforce, he once thought about his people, just as you and Midna thought about yours.

Oh, Midna.

You knew what had to happen, but knowing didn't make the parting any less harder to bear. You only wish you could have said sorry to her once more before she broke the Mirror of Twilight, sorry for the horrible things your ancestors had put her people through, sorry for the way this had to end, sorry that you couldn't do anything more for her, sorry, sorry, sorry-

You turn to face your hero, and find him retreating tearfully with his back turned to you, his duty finished.

"I'm sorry," you want to tell him, "I'm sorry."

Only the Goddesses know how much it kills you inside to feel this helpless. If only you had some way to turn back time... if there was a chance out there to save the past, you would have taken it.

[ceeroosa]

ohhhh lord the straights are poking me today. i must rant.

OK. So. Your husband not magically knowing the exact perfect way to do a thing is NOT WEAPONIZED INCOMPETANCE.

firstly, you have a problem with perfectionism. it's not a cute quirk, it's a trait that causes you A LOT OF GRIEF and disappointment. The solution is not to require everyone around you to also have your unattainably high standards.

The solution is to practice sitting with the discomfort/fear/shame/whatever that arises when something isn't perfect, and eventually seeing the beauty of imperfection.

secondly - let's say you have no interest in dealing with any of what i just said; you like your standards and want to keep them. That's fine, but you still do not have the right to require those around you to a) magically know what your standards are and b) always meet them, especially if they don't have the same standards as you. (many don't)

The solution here is to not ask people to do things unless you're willing to either: explain and show in detail what your standard is and verbally request it be done that way or simply have it not be perfect.

that's it. stop setting your spouse and children (and yourSELF) up for failure by just expecting them to guess and do it perfectly every time. stop demanding that other people have the same expectations as you.

Stop making tiktoks and reels and posts published to the entire world where you shame and insult your husband or child for not being perfect, and allowing others to label them as abusive because they didn't put the stamps or the sheets on the "right way" and how you shouldn't have to ask or tell him how to do it /your way/ (which is not automatically correct) because he should just know.

does weaponized incompetance exist? yes! and it does not fucking look like your spouse just having different standards than you.

it looks like consistently failing to keep track of when your license expires, not renewing it, and then getting tickets so often that your wife just schedules and drives you to get your license renewed every time, so you dont have to worry about it.

it looks like not showing up to pick up your child from school for HOURS, leaving them and the teachers sitting there waiting, over and over again until the SCHOOL ITSELF SAYS "the dad cant pick the kid up anymore, banned, only the other parent because this is awful and not OK" and now you never have to do the school run ever again

it looks like not bathing or changing or supervising your children for the entire week you are their sole carer, so they show up at the family dinner absolutely filthy, and then everyone decides you can't ever be left alone with them again so you never have to be fully responsible for your kids again (but still demand emotional availability from them cuz ur so useless and sad)

it looks like going on a bender and getting so horrifically drunk and acting suicidal ANYTIME someone tries to hold you accountable for anything so that no one ever does because of what you might do

these are all real examples from my real childhood. THIS WAS MY FATHER. HE ACTED LIKE A PATHETIC BABY AND IT EFFECTIVELY REMOVED ALL RESPONSIBILITY IN HIS LIFE, WITHOUT LOSING FREEDOM TO DO THE THINGS HE WANTED TO DO. (until he fought the law and the law beat the absolute shit out of him)

THAT is weaponized incompetance. THAT is emotional abuse.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

1. "The way you're handling her strikes me as wrong."

PLAISANCE - "Mind your own business, sir." Her posture becomes very rigid. "In *our society*, people don't get to tell each other how to raise their children. It's none of your or anyone's business."

2. "I'm here to dismantle the free market and abolish child labour."

PLAISANCE - She rolls her eyes. "You must be kidding, there's nothing like that happening."

"Depends. How much do you pay the kid?"

PLAISANCE - "Good sir, what does a young child do with money anyway? No, I save it for her, as a fund. She's securing her financial future out there."

AUTHORITY [Medium: Success] - Slap the cuffs on her!

"I formally reprimand you for your corrupt activities."

"Oh. I guess I was mistaken."

PLAISANCE - She raises an eyebrow. "Oh, of course, officer. Good work. Are we done with the jokes now?"

KIM KITSURAGI - "Yes, we've had quite enough fun here, right." The lieutenant taps his foot.

Plaisance strikes me as the kind of person who's going to need evidence before she changes her mind on anything.

3. "Okay... Let's change the subject."

PLAISANCE - The woman before you scans the store, her shoulders rigid and tense. Every now and then she nudges her glasses.

4. "Farewell for now, book peddler!" [Leave.]

RHETORIC - Hey, psst...

Look around.

Who -- me?

RHETORIC - Psst, hey, you!

Who -- me?

RHETORIC - Yes, you. Word on the street is you're ready to start building *communism* again!

'Again'?

How come there's *word on the street*?

RHETORIC - Yes -- you're ready to start building communism *again*. You've built it before, *they've* built it before. Hasn't really worked out yet, but neither has *love* -- should we just stop building love, too?

Can't argue with that.

Yes, we should all stop buildiing love.

Love has worked out really well for me. I'm a love winner.

RHETORIC - This conversation isn't really about love. Try to keep up, okay? This is about the communism you've *promised* to build. Word on the street is it's going to be ten thousand times larger than any communism previously attempted. Is that true?

How come there's *word on the street*?

RHETORIC - You keep saying things like *down with the bourgeoisie*, *eat the rich*, *sodomize the land-owners*, *impale all people who have more than 25 reál in their pocket*, *literally murder all human beings regardless of their political beliefs* -- that kind of stuff.

Oh, right. That sounds like me.

I haven't said anything like that.

I've said *some* mildly left wing things but none of those.

RHETORIC - Oh yes, the *mask of ambivalence*. Don't deny it. You're about to rip it off and reveal the monstrous seven-eyed lamb of global communism that will devour and masticate mankind.

Everyone can see that. So tell me, do you have any questions before we fire up the Big Communism Builder, or do we get *right down to it*?

Wait, first -- what's this *communism* even about?

Roll up your sleeves and start building Communism. (Opt in.)

It's too tiring. I don't have it in me. I'm beat down and broken. (Opt out.)

RHETORIC - Failure. It's about failure.

Failure?

I don't *do* failure.

RHETORIC - Yes! Abject failure. Total, irreversible defeat on all fronts! Absolutely vanquished, beaten, curb-stomped and pissed on -- until *you* came along! *You* will reverse the fortune of the workers of the world.

You alone, against every living thing, against every human alive: eight hundred trillion reál in the hands of an *impossibly* well organized ruling class; towering city blocks of bank-men who have the ears of prime ministers; million-headed armies of nations and the love of your own mother!

You -- against the atom, the charm and the spin. Where the whole world failed -- matter failed to bend to human will; human will failed to get out of bed and tie its laces -- you alone, single-handedly, will rebuild the dreams of the working class. You are The Last Communist.

Now get to work, comrade.

[anicekidlikeme]

All of this communication, but is it really worth jack shit?

Last week was painfully long, this week is off to a crappy start, and Drew pissed me off today. I don't think it's entirely fair to call this a fight, so, I am calling it Vaibhavi's shut-down time. Shut-down periods usually coincide with the shy little feeling that I am being stretched too thin. I am known to hate it.

I'll be honest, life has been so fucking excruciating recently. I have received an influx of opinions these past few days, more than you could think to count, and they all echo in my head in the form of painful, nonstop voices. Do I not fulfill all your expectations? Am I doing enough? Am I a liar? Do I enable bad habits? Am I the problem? I know the answers. There is a girl inside of me and she is so little and so scared but she knows enough to scream, this is all so terribly wrong. I fail her so many times. My therapist tells me to think of my pain as a little baby who lives in the heart. When a baby cries, you don't think to question why, scold her, or point an angry finger. No, it's a baby. All you can do is hold it tenderly.

I must not be very motherly, because I seem to be doing all the steps wrong. I fear I am cold, bitter, too mean. I also fear that everyone else thinks so.

I know it's okay to be hurt and I know it is okay to feel this stabbing one-of-a-kind pain when you are hurt by somebody you love. I know it's all okay, but I can't help feel a little shame for being so angry. It wouldn't be such a big deal on any other day, or maybe it would be. I don't know if this is a product of an especially shitty day or me being an especially shitty person. But right now, my pile of life-shit is starting to run out of room, so I am letting myself think that on a blank slate this would be no biggie. But it was. And it was piled up on top of my life-shit.

For his work, Drew has to spend a lot of time outside. I come with him whenever I can, mostly to watch him work but also to look at the grass before it gets a summer's trim. We were having an evening that was so perfect that I had entirely forgotten the million things that have been worrying me. And then it was 1,000,000 + 1. Why? Over absolutely fucking nothing. He said nothing wrong and he did nothing big. I hate when that happens. The most irritating part about being wrong is knowing post-outburst that all your words were just reactionary forces to your insecurities. Here are mine:

I remember how much I treasured my first real boyfriend after it was all official. It wasn't love, but I really enjoyed his company. I had someone who would say nice things to me when the world was shut down and nobody could go anywhere. It was a pretty sweet gig until the pandemic thing blew over, and I had to date him for reals.

When we started having sex I was terrified that it just wasn't enough. In fact, I was one of those post-sex crybabies the first time. The crying absolutely stops, but the feeling lingers. Have you seen my body? Some days I look at myself and think ugly, ugly, ugly, ugly. It is unbearable. Of course I cried, I couldn't stand feeling so seen. I thought sex will never be good for either of us because I am just so hopelessly terrible-looking. With how it all ended, I am sure we don't have very many kind words to exchange. I ran into this ex a couple times last year, and it felt alarmingly silent. We both happened to be developing film at the same time. I stole a quick look at his pictures, they were much better than mine. We did not speak. The second time was on the bus. This time I waved. No wave back. Mr. perfect-looking-film, if you are reading, that made me a little sad. I was stressed when you made me feel so seen and I was stressed when you didn't see me at all. I have heard many stories about him the past couple years through the grapevine, mostly about dumb college fuck ups. No words are ever useless, so I hope it's worth something that I never believed any of them.

A cousin who I love so dearly asked me the other day how I did and do this. How do I deal with anger towards my body? When do things get better? Should I start working out? I wish I could give her a blueprint. Instead, I told her to ask my boyfriend for a healthy-non-destructive diet and workout plan. I don't know if I did the right thing. How the fuck would I? The disgust I feel towards my body has been able to journey from there to here: a quiet calm place where I don't think about my stretch marks and my small shitty butt all day, but it took a lot of time. I fucking hate when I disrupt that peace for myself, which has been often lately.

I can make myself feel so undesirable with my what-ifs. What if when someone thought of the perfect body they thought of me? What if I was someone's dream girl? What if I was the first pick when you have to think of good examples of sexy sultry perfect women with perfect butts? It would be nice, big whoop.

I have yet to sort that out, so when the pain comes back, I pick her up, whisper shh shh shh in her small beautiful ears, and wait for it to become easy again. My little heart baby's face is often red from all her tears. But life can only be understood backwards: maybe one day I will write about my happiness and realize that my baby is calmy resting.

My other big insecurity is my mouth. A new, long-term stressor was at its peak recently, and I had to go on a different medication to help my brain work it out. The medication makes my teeth rot. I am so resentful of this stressor, but I never dare say the things I want to. I can never be unfiltered about this one part of my life. But they are the worst. I never want to smile anymore, I am scared Drew will notice my rotting teeth and my rotting gums. It's bad enough that he has to deal with this body.

My dearest novelist Dostoevsky maintained the view that being in hell is simply the suffering of being unable to love. If I didn't have Drew, this loathing would surely feel like hell. I want to be the first option, I want to be the example, I want to be desired, and I want to be so beautiful that there is no room for comparison. I wonder sometimes why it is that we hurt each other so much, often with so little intention to do so. If I am holding my crying baby, who is holding me? I wish my pain was a visible, vibrant color that you could see forming on my chest so that I never had to communicate when I needed gentleness. Asking for it makes me feel so full of shit. I think I needed it the day of Vaibhavi shut down time. I should have said so, but I was static set on being okay. Obviously I wasn't.

I hate my voice most of all.

I once had a father. Now I do not. But when I did, my family would fight a lot. My mother, her brothers, my grandma, and him had a tendency to loudly regurgitate their problems over and over and over till the sun was down. Their most prominent problem was the one childlike child they had, and were stuck with. Those fights were mostly just a blur of accusations about my being, how it was a huge mistake. It began when I was 5. She doesn't even know how to do this! And all she does is beg for help with her fucking voice. She's half you after all. I heard this half-you half-me bullshit until I left, it made me feel like I had no good halves to me.

My father made the most horrifying impressions of my voice. Like it was so ugly and shrill that the only way to shake off the physical discomfort of my sound was through mockery. I remember it well. So punctuated, so loud, so painful to hear. Repeating everything I have ever said. Every "Why?" I'd ever uttered, every excited babble, every discovery I made was always turned into an impression when it was wartime. My voice became a constant reminder of their unhappiness. One day my mother choked me because she couldn't stand my voice. I used to collect tea cups. My uncle shattered them all because he was that agitated by my talking. Even as I write about it now, I feel the familiar ache of my heart shriveling up. It hurts. So now, years later, someone repeating my words in a joking tone (even if it is with the sweetest of intent) leaves me shivering and angry. The fear of their mocking, even in its absence, makes me want to shrink into myself. So yes, leaving India wasn't just about distance; it was about escaping the echo chamber of my ugly childhood. It has happened with Drew a few times, and my words come off much sharper than I intended. I said to him this morning, why are you being so mean? stop it.

Am I? No Drew, you never are. You are so bright, and I am so dimly lit sometimes that I don't know how to respond to your awesome boyfriend-ness, so I get frustrated. My mother says to me, सुंदर ही तो प्रेम करता है (only the beautiful find love). I have been feeling so ugly lately Drew. Inside and out. There seem to be so many reminders that what I am is simply not good. None of them come from you, I know that. They shouldn't matter, I know that too. There's just so many of them. So many. I don't understand it. Why this? Why now? Why so much of it? I hear it all in my head, all this screaming. I have been trying to make sense of the recent days with the Socratic method (once again, the ex-philosophy major never escapes me). True wisdom comes from self reflection, but what if my view of the self today is rooted in every minor criticism? Should I keep self-examining? It seems like I am shit out of luck there. Should I try to find out why I have become this green dumping ground? What the motive is behind these stressors? My candid opinion is that these stressors are abusive assholes with great expectations: for people to stay on the path they have paved. It has to be the only one, because it is the one where they are most needed. Often that means letting them be the protagonist while you are stuck being the fuck up. It's a cruel, controlling fuckfest. And it is quite literally killing me. If one more person mentions to Drew how there are so many problems, me being one of them, I fear I might just pull all my hair out.

But there is no pain that love cannot fix, and there has never been a pain Drew hasn't taken away. I know I will feel pretty again, I know things will slow down. I do. To reach the summit, you have to work through all the yucky shit first. And it is so lovely to share a yucky shit-pile with someone who loves you. So maybe I do believe in the infinite connection we share. And maybe this connection is for all humans, a form of practical liberation. I feel more complete now, and I think it's because Drew might be my good half. Life is half me half him now, and he is a great great great half. It is so relieving to have somebody to love. This feels like a very phony way to end, so i'm going to try to conclude every post with a picture now. It might not stick, but it's a start.

[jakesimfromstatefarm]

notoriously yours | jay park

✰ summary: jay park is a rich kid. it’s safe to say he has everything every broke college student on his campus could dream of and more. but the one thing he doesn’t have, which money definitely can’t buy, is a girlfriend. and his friends won’t see of it. literally.

so what happens when his friends bet him to date someone for more than three months? what happens when jay decides that fake-dating someone would be easier than actual dating (because god forbid Jay–the campus’ notoriously known fuckboy–decides to commit to something once in his life)?

and what happens when that someone is you, his childhood best friend he hasn’t spoken to in years..who has absolutely no interest in being in his life anymore?

✰ pairing: jay park x y/n [ft. members of enha]

✰ genre: fluff, comedy, angst | fakedating!au, college!au, childhoodbestfriends!au, (kinda) e2l!au

✰ warnings: cursing, nothing suggestive but jay's a fuckboy so slightly suggestive themes, mentions of parental neglect/leaving, it's hella long (and i thought my last fic was long)

✰ wc: 14.7k (how did i get it this long oh lord)

✰ author's note: picture creds go to original owners/editors! peep that edit of jay that lowkey inspired this entire fic 👀also this took me so, so long bc i lost motivation half way thru and bc college is a thing,,,so i honestly don't know how to feel abt it so pls bare with me :')))) ALSO the dividers are weird bc idk how to add more than 10 pics for the dividers so pls excuse those ٩(× ×)۶i hope u guys enjoy!! <333

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

Jay Park is a rich kid.

Jay Park has enough to buy every textbook he needs for his courses without having to look up the free versions online. Jay Park has enough to bribe his professors to let him pass every class with a perfect 4.0 GPA (but because the boy has morals, he doesn't). Jay Park has enough to afford a car to drive to his furthest class from his dorm building instead of walk or bike like every other college student, meaning he also has enough to afford a parking spot on campus (those things aren't cheap!).

Jay Park walks around your school's campus like he owns the place (and considering the amount of money his family has donated to the school, he practically does), looking like he just walked out of your local coffee shop's newest fashion magazine. His blonde hair is never seen untouched, his attire usually consisting of an undoubtedly high-end all-black fit, accessorized with multiple earrings and rings that probably cost more than all the overpriced textbooks you had to rent out this semester. It's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park.

Bottom line is, Jay Park has everything.

Well, his friends beg to differ.

In their eyes, Jay Park has everything but a simple factor in the equation of love (or whatever love is to the minds of a couple of 19 year olds): commitment.

So yes, it's safe to say that everyone knows Jay Park. Because everyone knows he's the campus' rich fuckboy. (What's a college fanfic campus without one anyways?)

Jay doesn't go unreminded of this by his friends, to the boy's annoyance.

Jay is aware of this on a Sunday afternoon, in his dorm building's first floor lounge, where he and his said friends are having a study session.

They're doing anything but studying.

In fact, no one has any books out or anything. Not a single laptop in site.

"You don't think it's the slightly bit concerning?" Jake's words are muffled as he continues munching on the fried chicken that he spent majority of this study session debating if he should have it delivered through UberEats or not.

"I really don't, no," Jay shrugs as he continues mindlessly scrolling through his Instagram feed. They're having the same argument conversation that they've revisited multiple times over the course of their friendship, one that Jay has been lectured on too many times for his own good. He thinks his friends could become his new parents if they really tried.

"Look at it this way, okay. You're about to graduate college in a couple of years, into the big world. Like the actual, adult world. And that means you'll have to settle down. Which you can't do when you. have. no. commitment!" Jake punctuates each word with a single clap of his hands, desperate to get his point across.

Jay simply rolls his eyes. He looks over to Sunghoon, who's minding his own business, not bothered by the same topic he's heard over and over again. His eyes tell Jay you're on your own, in response to his blonde-haired friend's look of despair.

Jay thinks that maybe he should get new friends. Yes, that's the only solution here.

"My love life," Jay reaches across the table for a drumstick from the greasy tub seated in Jake's lap until Jake swats his hand away, "is none of your business. Also, ouch."

"Uh, it kinda is. Because of you and your reputation around campus, it kinda affects us, your best friends. How do you think we look, hanging out with the guy who's known to ghost every girl in existence after one night with them? No offense to you," Jake deadpans to him. Jay mentally reconsiders the term best friends.

Tough love. Jay tells himself it's tough love.

"Yes, because every girl totally hates Jake Sim, the teacher assistant of a physics class who volunteers at the pet shelter every Sunday and brings their pet golden retriever to campus every two weeks," Jay rolls his eyes at his Australian friend.

Jake sighs. "Okay, then I'm coming from a place of worry for you."

Jay groans. "Again, none of your business!" This doesn't stop Jake. He comes from good intentions, really, but Jay wants nothing more than to stuff the kid's mouth with some of that chicken to shut him up.

"What are you gonna do if one day you meet someone you like, genuinely like, and you screw yourself over because you've never been in an actual relationship before? A real, committed one. Like one that lasts at least three months."

"You don't think I can last three months in a relationship?" Jay questions the boy currently taunting him.

"Honestly? No. What's the longest relationship you've been in?" Jake cocks an eyebrow at his friend across from him.

One month and two weeks. But Jay's smart enough to not say that out loud.

"I can so last over three months," Jay mutters more to himself than Jake.

Jake laughs at that, pausing to take another bite of the drumstick in his hand. "Jay, I am willing to actually bet you. Bet that you wouldn't be able to." He leans back on the couch, the ball now in Jay's court.

Jay freezes, looking up from his phone, narrowing his eyes at Jake.

"Forget it, Jake. He's not gonna agree even if you offered him money," Sunghoon finally perches from beside him. Well he's not wrong. It's not like Jay is exactly in need of more money, per say.

"What kind of bet are we talking here?"

Sunghoon's right. Jay doesn't need the money, but he does hate being wrong. Even if it's over something as stupid as this matter.

Caught off guard by the blonde's answer, Jake blinks blankly at him and takes a second to think.

"Hmm..what about...what about if you can date someone for at least three months, and I mean an actual, committed relationship, then I'll do all of your physics homework next semester."

Jay's eyes sparkle at that. If there's anything he despises more than commitment, it's physics.

"And if I win, you have to buy all of my textbooks," Jake sits back from the edge of his seat with a smirk lying on his face.

Jay pauses to think about it. I mean, what does he have to lose? A couple hundred dollars over college textbooks? No. Because he just simply won't lose.

And maybe he'll learn what it'll be like to actually be in a committed relationship for once. Maybe he'll finally learn what it's like to actually devote yourself to someone, open up to them. He shivers at the thought. Never mind. He'll warm up to it. Baby steps.

Nonetheless, what could go wrong? Even if he does lose, at least his money would be going somewhere productive––towards his friend's education. Jay was probably gonna use that money on something useless like a blanket that resembles a tortilla (a burrito blanket, he calls it)––something he doesn't necessarily need, but must have, he would argue.

"Fine. Whatever, okay. Deal," he grabs Jake's extended hand in front of him and shakes on it.

Jake's impressively smiling at the boy as Sunghoon lets out a sigh, in disbelief with the two guys he calls his best friends.

Jay concludes that this will be easier than his Introduction to Photography 101 course he took his freshman year. How hard is it to find someone to date the Jay Park? Surely, everyone will be lining up once Jay switches his FaceBook relationship status from "it's complicated" to "single".

Turns out, it's not as easy as his class where all Jay had to do was take pictures of a pretty sunset, slap a VSCO filter on, and call it a day.

He comes to this realization on a Wednesday evening, as he's seated at one of the many study tables lined in the middle of the campus' library, staring down at his phone's dry iMessage app, with his laptop and blank sheets of scratch paper scrambled across the entire table, as an attempt to look half as studious as the other students studying in the facility.

Turns out, being known as the campus' fuckboy who ghosts every girl on campus isn't a good thing when it comes to wanting to find a real relationship.

He comes to this realization after failing to receive a single text back to the many ones he sent out throughout the first half of his day. The ghoster gets ghosted. Oh how the turn tables.

Jay groans dramatically as he tosses his phone on the hard surface of the table, earning himself a harsh shush from the librarian filing books in the aisle beside him.

He sheepishly smiles back as an apology, directing his attention back to his open laptop screen, where his untouched calculus homework stares back at him––his mind preoccupied with the looming threat of Jake's bet. Not that it was threatening in any way, per say, but Jay just hates losing. And from the looks of things, it's safe to say that Jay won't be celebrating any victories anytime soon.

Jay thinks he should just change his identity and just transfer to some boarding school in Switzerland. Yes, that's a much better solution than admitting defeat to Jake.

Jay sighs as he lies his head on the table, figuring he might as well just write the check for Jake's textbooks now. He wonders how he got here in the first place. Not how he got into the bet, and definitely not how he's sitting in the middle of the library, having yet to start his calculus homework due at 11:59PM tonight (he should really start that).

But no, he wonders how he gained the reputation as the campus' playboy. To be fair, his friends (mainly Jake), are constantly reminding him of his notorious habits. But how did they come a habit in the first place?

The idea of being in a relationship is nice, sure, but the commitment that comes with it? The idea of being dependent on someone? It's scary, vulnerable, and one that Jay can't picture for himself.

Maybe some people just aren't meant to be paired. Maybe some people, like Jay, like being independent and are meant to stay that way.

But Jay also likes affection. He likes the fleeting, warm feeling he gets every time he finds himself under someone's sheets. He likes the short-lived comfort he receives from someone else's touch, even though he knows it's going to cease to exist the second he steps out of those bedroom's doors. He just likes affection, simple as that.

That and he's a 19 year old teenage boy with needs, what did you expect?

And so what if he likes the idea of affection minus commitment? Is that so bad? Apparently it is, to people like his friends and the entirety of his school's campus, at least.

At this rate, he might as well pay someone to date him.

Wait. Jay lifts his head off the table's surface in realization.

He might as well pay someone to date him.

There's no harm in that, is there?

He wouldn't have to endure through an endless amount of dates to find someone he clicks with, then continue going on dates with said clicked person, all while trying to develop an actual, serious relationship.

He'll win the bet, get his physics homework done for an entire semester, and some lucky girl out there will be making profit for the small price of hanging out with Jay Park for three months.

And lucky for him, Jay knows the perfect candidate for this scheme.

Simple as that.

Just as long as said perfect candidate says yes.

And as long as Jake and Sunghoon don't find out. Or else Jay might really have to move to Switzerland after all.

You love your friends, you do.

Hana and Heeseung have been there for you when others haven't––they were by your side when you knew no one entering high school, and they were still by your side when you were all graduating said high school. Needless to say, you're eternally grateful for friends like them.

But right now, in this moment––with you seated in the middle of the campus' library, trying to write your essay, as your two friends blabber on and on about the most recent gossip across from you––your two friends could be your villain origin story.

But again, you love your friends, you do. So you don't have the heart to tell them to leave. You've managed to naturally tune out most of the conversation, anyways, for this––your friends coming to hang out while you're trying to study––is no rare occurrence by any means.

"Oh yeah, Jay Park texted me last night."

You hate how your brain's filter suddenly turns off at Hana's words.

You hate how your ears catch the sudden mention of Jay Park's name.

You hate how the thought of Jay Park gets to even occupy a single brain cell of yours.

You hate how you even know who Jay Park is. Well, knew.

Past tense. Because up until eighth grade––when Jay decided to just suddenly pretend you didn't exist––he was attached to you like a koala to a eucalyptus tree.

And if you had asked past Y/N, ideally, Jay would've never left your side. Ideally, he would've never left you to fend for yourself when entering high school. Ideally, he would've stayed your best friend through out all four years of high school and ideally, you would've eventually told him how you really felt about him after growing up with him all your life. And maybe it would've lead to a completely different story. But for the sake of this fic, we don't live in an ideal world.

So yes, if it wasn't for his attendance at the very same university as you, you would've forgotten about the boy who brought you the painful memories of your childhood.

And since the universe clearly doesn't work in your favor, avoiding Jay Park's existence like he's the plague would have to suffice. And it works.

For the most part.

Until some people, bring him up uninvited into your conversation. Like now, for example.

"When was the last time you guys talked anyways?" Heeseung mindlessly asks as he reaches across the table to grab one of the many snacks you usually bring to your study sessions.

"Uh..like a few weeks ago. Give or take. Whenever you threw your house party. Can't say there was much talking involved however," she teasingly says with a giggle and wiggle of her brows.

Heeseung's rolling his eyes as you scoff and chuck a nearby crumpled piece of paper that was once one of your many essay drafts at her.

She bats it away right as it's about to hit her face as she laughs. "Doesn't matter anyways. He ghosted me the next morning, as he does with everyone else. Telling you this now," she extends a finger right at you, "stay away from Jay Park. That kid's just bad news."

You nod in response, mentally telling her she has nothing to worry about.

Been there, done that.

College. Ah yes, the very concept of spending four years of your life imprisoned on a campus where you'll be tearing your hair out from stress and spending all your life's savings just for a laminated sheet of paper with a golden stamp at the end of it all. We live in a society.

Because of said college, and all the weight that comes along with it, you had adapted a strict daily schedule in order to not completely lose your mind. It's a simple schedule really, one of a typical college student who's just trying to get by everyday with as little mental breakdowns as possible.

Wake up, get ready, go to class, go to the library to do your homework, walk all the way across campus to get back to your dorm, shower, then sleep. Oh and eat, of course. And maybe if time permits, be an actual social being and socialize.

It's gotten you this far into the college life without dropping out so, you conclude, you must be doing something right.

Sometimes, if you're feeling nice to yourself, you'll tweak the schedule a bit to fit in some exceptions. Maybe squeeze in a little trip to the bubble tea shop that's on the other side of campus, or maybe get dinner at that one dining hall that you don't usually go to because of the unncessarily long lines (but because they serve ice cream, you go anyways). It doesn't matter what the exception is, you still plan it out to fit into your schedule somehow. Everything is planned out.

Sometimes, however, the universe disagrees with your schedule, to your demise. Such as today, for example.

Because what you didn't expect for today was for a particular blonde-haired boy who you haven't spoken to in almost six years (but who's counting?) to approach your table in the library––a table you were sure no one could find you at, as it was quietly tucked away in the back corner, right next to the Astrophysics shelves. Because who browses the Astrophysics aisle for fun? Actually, maybe Jake Sim would. Anyways.

You definitely didn't anticipate a visit from the boy you've been actively avoiding, so you definitely didn't expect the first words coming out of his mouth when he sees you for the first time in six years to be:

"Fake date me."

You blink up at him.

Yeah, definitely not expected.

But you only let it phase you for a split second, until you feel a slight annoyance beginning to bubble up deep inside of you.

"Wow, hello to you too Jay! It's been what––half a decade? Yeah I've been pretty good, thanks for asking!" The sarcasm is practically dripping off your tongue.

You don't know what runs through Jay's mind, but apparently it isn't common sense––or the ability to read the room. Because next thing you know, he's sliding the chair across from you out from underneath the table and making himself at home.

And he's smiling right at you.

Curse him and his smile.

But no, you're not giving into it.

Not yet, at least.

"What do you want?" You deadpan at him when he makes no sign of making the next move.

"A girlfriend," he deadpans right back at you, as if he was casually telling you what he wanted for dinner. As if you two were close-knit friends that could approach one another without any proper greeting. As if you two had kept your friendship all these years. As if you two even had a role in each other's lives.

"Can't help you there," you scoff, deciding to not even question his lack of manners on top of his uninvited presence.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why?"

"Well gee, seeing that the first few words you decided to say to my face for the first time in forever were a demand, a demand to date you no less, then....no," your monotone voice says as you keep your eyes focused on your laptop screen, not daring to look at the boy across from you.

In the Introduction to Sociology course you took your freshmen year, you had learned of one important term: interactional vandalism. Textbook definition being: "ignoring signals of disinterest in a conversation, leading it to an offense."

Your definition being: "are you oblivious or just plan dumb, read the room!"

This was interactional vandalism, alright. Whether Jay's truly oblivious or just trying to annoy you until your head explodes (it's really the former, but you're convinced it's the latter), he takes your signals of disinterest and tosses it right out of his head to continue the conversation.

"I'm stuck in this stupid bet with Jake--do you remember him? He bet me that I couldn't date someone for more than three months and I figured having someone fake date me would be easier than actually dating someone, right? That's where you come into the equation," he proposes as he leans back in his chair, as if he had just finished a sales pitch to a prospective customer looking to buy a car.

You couldn't believe this. You're 98% sure this has got to be a prank. You're mentally preparing for a camera crew to jump out from in-between the library's aisles any moment now and scream into your ears that you've just been punk'd!

The remaining 2% of you, however, wouldn't put it past the two boys to get themselves in such a situation. The last memory you had of Jay and his friends were pretty much their childish selves back in middle school. And by looking at the current scene unfolding in front of you...it's needless to say they haven't changed much.

"Again, can't help you there. Ask one of the many girlfriends I thought you had." Ouch.

"But Y/N, you've known me all your life--"

"Up until you dropped me a few years ago but sure, let's call it that."

"--and convincing other people is gonna make me look--"

"--desperate? Yeah."

"C'mon, Y/N. What do you have to lose anyways?"

"Uh..my dignity? Pride? Self-respect? Sorry Jay, not happening," you turn your attention back to your unwritten essay in front of you, mentally checking out of this conversation. This would be a good time for that camera crew to jump out now.

"Look, no one else is gonna do it, Y/N." Jay has always been stubborn, you suppose. But so are you.

"Yeah, because you've managed to push every being of the opposite gender away from you. You gave yourself this reputation in the first place," you give it to him straight. It's not like you had a relationship with him to uphold anyways––Jay himself broke that friendship years ago.

Jay hates that you're right.

You're always right. He remembers how he used to always go to you for advice and clarity on the world's biggest problems. Granted, the world's biggest problems to him at the time equated to what he should dress up as for the fifth grade Halloween party, but still. A tough decision, for the mind of a ten-year-old.

You abruptly stop typing and begin putting your laptop and textbooks away as you huff in frustration. There's no point in trying to get your work done now. The longer you stay arguing with Jay, the bigger your headache gets. The longer he continues to occupy any part of your brain, the bigger your headache gets.

Getting up from your seat, packed and ready to slam your head into your pillow, you turn to the blonde one last time.

"Look Jay. We went on our separate ways years ago. If you weren't so notoriously known around campus and my friends would stop talking about you, I would've long forgotten you. I'm sorry you're in this situation, really. If I were you, I'd just tell Jake I can't do it. Or don't, I can't tell you what to do. Just don't get some innocent girl involved in whatever stunt of yours this is."

Jay stares at you, mouth agape, as you find your way out of the library and through the main doors. By the time he comes back to his senses, he realizes how he looks plain stupid––standing in the middle of the library, the look on his face screaming befuddlement, to say the least. Jay quickly makes his way out of the building, in hopes of convincing you one last time.

Jay catches sight of your figure already half-way down the walkway that connects the library to the main quad of your school's campus. Geez, you walk fast.

Not fast enough to outrun Jay's legs, however. If Jay running after you through the middle of campus in order to convince you to fake date him doesn't show how desperate he is to win this bet, I don't know what will.

"Wait, Y/N!"

You groan to yourself before turning to face the boy who can't seem to take a hint and leave you alone. You stare at his out-of-breath state as he heaves up and down from the slight jog he had to endure to get to where you are. If you're humored by him chasing after you, you do a good job of hiding it.

He meets your unimpressed state before stating his final proposition: "I'll pay you. Five hundred dollars."

You nearly stop breathing.

Now this catches your attention––after all, you're but a broke college student who's just trying to survive. And preferably not by feeding yourself instant ramen cups every night.

And so, naturally, you begin rethinking about the opportunity presented in front of you. You narrow your eyes at the boy as you weigh your options.

The first problem being, it's Jay Park––the bane of your very existence. You spent the last few years of your life pretending he didn't exist...for good reason. Not only did he do you dirty when you were merely a couple of 13-year-olds, but you just didn't want to be involved with someone like him. Someone known for his nature, someone who left your own current best friend ghosted. And not that Hana herself would care, for she has called herself the "female Jay Park", but you're sure this would be breaking some rule in the girl code handbook. Plus, if you agree to this, you'd be betraying 13-year-old Y/N, the one who decided to never speak to nor think of Jay Park again––which by now you've failed, but you get the gist.

Second problem being, three months is a long time. Three months is practically the rest of this semester, and did you really want to spend the rest of the semester tied down to the label of being Jay Park's girlfriend? There would have to be some negative connotations that came along with that title, right? No offense to Jay, but being his first girlfriend since, what, high school could make you come off as..naive, for lack of a better term. As if the only person you could settle for was Jay Park. As if you barely had any standards for yourself. Again, no offense to Jay.

Needless to say, if your school's debate club had to argue on why you shouldn't be doing this, you're sure the negating side could win with these two reasons alone.

But before you're rejecting the boy currently standing in front of you one last time, you find yourself mentally listing rebuttals.

First of all, you'd be getting paid. And again, you're merely but a college student living the stereotypical broke college student life––burdened by the costs of tuition, textbooks, and midnight McDonalds runs for when you're out of aforementioned instant ramen cups. Five hundred dollars could provide you with more than enough chicken McNuggets to last you the semester, and maybe some more to treat yourself to an online shopping spree.

Second of all, it's not like you were going to do anything better with your next three months anyways. It's safe to say you were too busy being a diligent student to actually look for anyone to date, per say. And if anything, having a fake boyfriend might actually be helpful in your case. Your mom would be off your ass about how you're still single, for one. And two, your friends (though it's really just Heeseung) would stop trying to hook you up on blind dates with guys that you would choose Jay Park over any day (and that really says something).

Third of all, it's Jay Park. As much as you despise the kid, you still know him. He's not a complete stranger to you, no matter how much you try to deny it. It could be worse, it could be a complete rando asking you to date him. At least you two have some sort of history, which would take care of the typical small talk and getting to know each other bit of this equation. And truth be told, you'd be lying to yourself if you said you weren't a tad bit satisfied by the fact that Jay chose you, of all people, to pull off this stunt with him. You don't know if it's the nostalgia of your childhood memories rushing back to you, but it reminds you of the endless schemes you two used to plan behind your parents' backs all the time. Granted, your childhood schemes––such as the both of you faking sickness so you could skip school together––don't even fall close to being in a fake relationship with one another, but still. It's the thought that counts.

All of those reasons plus, Jay isn't the worst to look at. He may have a spoiled reputation, but at least he has his looks going for him, you'll give him that (you're still secretly wondering when and how did he get his glow up, but don't tell him that).

And so by the guidelines of a college student's logic that states the pros outweigh the cons, you come to the overarching conclusion that maybe, this won't be so awful after all.

"Five hundred?" You ask, just for clarification. Jay's immediately nodding at your words. You continue to ponder on your thoughts as he stares at you hopefully.

The silent atmosphere of your campus heightens the tension so much, you swear you're in one of those overdramatic pausing scenes that occur too many times in k-dramas.

You sigh, then nod.

"Okay," you're internally praying that you won't regret this decision. "I'm in."

The next time you see Jay is at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building that's home to your awfully long Capitalism in the Western World class.

You're going down the steps of the building, mentally deciding where and what you're going to treat yourself to for lunch––as the three hour lecture you had just attended drained all the life and energy out of you––when you hear the slight call of your name.

Turning to the source, you're met with a waving Jay, leaning against the passenger's side of his car, parked in front of the lecture hall building you were currently leaving.

Great.

You walk over to where he's casually waiting––he's unaware of all the stares he's attracted from fellow students leaving the same lecture as you. Can you blame them? It's not everyday you see a sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition pull up in front of your Friday afternoon lecture. It's not everyday you see Jay Park waiting for anyone outside of his said sleek, black BMW that probably cost more than your tuition.

"Hi," you simply let out as you plant yourself in front of him, not sure whether or not to question him why are you here? Surely, he wasn't waiting for you?

"Hi," he smiles down at you. There's a beat of silence. "I was waiting for you."

Bingo.

"Oh. What are you, my chauffeur?" You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Maybe. I am your boyfriend, after all," he says into the air, loud and clear, as if he wanted people to hear. Well that is the point, you suppose.

But still, all you want to do is smack the smirk right off his face.

Before you have time to put your next question into words, he answers it for you.

"I'm taking you out for lunch," he declares as if you have nothing else planned for the day. Well, to be fair, you didn't have anything else planned for the day. Except for your usual library run. But you figure the library could wait.

"Oh, like on a date?" You raise your eyebrows teasingly at him as you get into the car, Jay holding the door wide open for you. "Is Jay Park treating me to lunch as a date?"

Jay fights the scowl (or is that a smile?) growing on his face as he bends down to meet your eye level from inside the car. "Don't flatter yourself, princess. We've got fake lives to live."

"Call me princess one more time and you won't have a real life to live," you flash him a sarcastic smile and slam the door in his face.

Jay meets his own shocked reflection on the passenger's side window.

Cute.

"When you said you were taking me out to lunch, I expected like...I don't know...the diner on campus. Not whatever this is," you mutter to Jay as the two of you are brought to your table by a waitress at an upscale sushi restaurant, one that is undoubtedly out of your usual budget, but for sure an upgrade from your dining hall's pizza you were planning to have. You should've figured as much, the drive here was a little more than out of the way from campus, and who are you kidding, it's Jay Park you're eating with.

You stare down at your current outfit, which consisted of a hoodie you've owned since your junior year of high school and leggings that you threw on without second thought this morning––because you didn't exactly wake up and decide I'm going to go to a fancy sushi bar for lunch today!

"Why are we here anyways?" You ask him when you're both settled in your seats and the waitress walks away after listing the chef's specials for the day.

"Oh, they have killer dragon rolls here, you have to try it," Jay tells you nonchalantly as his eyes rake the menu in front of him, blocking your view of him.

How dense can one be? Your hand snatches his menu as you stare into his unamused eyes.

"No, Jay. I mean, why are we here? It's not like anyone's around to see us put on a show anyways."

"Oh. I figured," Jay's quick to grab the menu back from out of your hands as he continues, "that we should sit down and establish how exactly we're going to deliver this performance. After all, you're stuck with me for the next three months."

Again, smacking the smirk currently resting on his face would satisfy you beyond relief. Just once.

"If I drop out halfway through, do I still get $250?" You tease, leaning back.

"Ha ha. Funny. No," he narrows his eyes at you from across the table. "It's all or nothing."

You dramatically huff to make a show just for his annoyance.

"Worth a try. But sure, let's solidify this. What's the game plan?" You sit up in your seat, leaning over the table as if the two of you were hosting a secret meeting.

"It's simple really," Jay mirrors your actions, face leaning in close to where yours is hovering over the table. "Just pretend to be deeply in love with me for three months, and try not to actually be charmed by my cunning looks."

If someone gave you five dollars for every time you've already rolled your eyes at him today, you wouldn't even need to be in this deal for the five hundred dollars.

"Wow, smooth. Can I just remind you you're the one paying a girl to be in a fake relationship with you because you're just not competent enough to find an actual girlfriend?" You lean back, arms crossing over your figure.

Jay, unfazed, laughs, tongue briefly hitting the inside of his cheek. "Touché."

Your eyes go back to the menu in front of you as a silence falls over the table. Because you're not a loaded trust fund baby who comes to fancy five-star sushi restaurants for lunch on a daily, you don't recognize half of the entree names on the menu. You spot the dragon roll Jay suggested, but seeing that a basic California roll is less expensive, your natural broke-college-student-instincts figure the California roll shall do.

"Okay, in all seriousness," Jay begins as he puts his menu down. "It's simple really. We'll just go on weekly dates and post cute pictures of each other once in a while and a little after three months, I'll just say it didn't work out. I'll give you the five hundo and boom, we move on with our lives."

It's clear Jay's put some thought into this. Safe to say he's put more effort planning this out than the amount of work he's been putting into his classes. Someone's got their priorities straight.

You're impressed to say the least––you figured Jay would just be the kind to go with the flow and wait for the situation to unfold on its own and maybe blow up into flames. But seeing as he was just as serious about winning this bet as you were with making five hundred dollars, your doubts about this entire situation were slowly withering away.

Don't get it wrong, though, you still despise him. To an extent, at least.

"And don't worry about the dates. I'll pay on your behalf, as the loving, doting boyfriend I am," Jay finishes with a wide, cheesy smile you can't help but return a growing smile back at.

"Well then, as the loving, doting girlfriend I am, I shall gift you coffee, breakfast, all that fun couple stuff, whenever you please. Or maybe unannounced, if I'm feeling nice," you figure you should pitch in as much if he's paying for all your dates. And deep down, you find the idea kinda cute. But don't tell anyone that.

"Wow, look at us. We should become Dispatch's couple of the year already!" Jay exclaims, earning himself a small giggle from you, which pleases him to say the least. He thinks that maybe when this is all over, he'll hopefully make a good friend (well, for the second time) out of it.

And you're thinking that maybe the next three months won't be as bad as you initially had thought.

As the two of you delve deep into a debate about who would be the better significant other to each other, the waitress comes over to take your orders.

And because you're laughing and Jay's brightly smiling at you from across the table, you order the dragon roll.

The second time Jay takes you out––this time he gives you a heads up to get ready––it's at a, once again, high-class steakhouse.

The third time, you insist on the on-campus diner that's popular amongst the student population. Partially because you feel bad for the amount of money he's spent on you (even though he couldn't care less), but mostly because if you have to put on another fancy dress to just eat an overpriced meal that doesn't even fully satisfy your hunger, you might lose your mind.

And by this third time, Jake is aware of this newly blossomed relationship.

"Three dates! I didn't know you had it in you, going on three dates with the same girl!" Jake excitedly exclaims as he jumps into the empty spot on Jay's dorm bed and shoves his phone's screen into Jay's face.

The smaller screen displays Jay's most recent Instagram post: an image of you sitting behind your too-small-to-be-this-expensive-steak and smiling right into Jay's camera––a memory that brings a smile to his face:

~ ~ ~

"C'mon! We said Instagram posts would be a part of the deal! How else can we convince people we're dating?" A pout rests on Jay's face as he stares at you from across the table in the middle of the extravagantly decorated restaurant he picked out for your second date. You remember your eyes bulging out of their own sockets when you saw the "$$$$$" rating Yelp gave the place when you searched it up earlier.

"Okay, okay! One picture," you give in, already slightly annoyed that you were here instead of the comfort of your own bed, where you could be rewatching your favorite Netflix show for the third time. But because you made a deal and because you're desperate for money, you had to follow through––so here you were.

You flash an unconvincing smile to Jay's camera, which doesn't satisfy him, to say the least. "At least pretend you're somewhat enjoying this date," he frowns at you.

You sigh, until a thought crosses your mind and a smile grows on your face. "Only if you get me boba afterwards."

He narrows his eyes at you, but then meets your smile. "Sure, whatever you want. But only because I've been craving some mango milk tea lately."

"You're a fruit milk tea kind of guy? Sorry, but I might have to fake break-up with you," you tease as you take a sip of your overpriced drink to go with your overpriced meal.

Jay scoffs, feigning hurt by placing his hand over his heart. "Ouch. But before you break up with me, let me get this Instagram post in."

"Wow. Your priorities are so straight," you roll your eyes at him, eliciting a cheeky smile from him as he watches you through his held up phone screen.

"3,2,1."

"Hey, I wasn't ready! That was like mid-laugh!" You reach over the table to grab the phone, but not quick enough for him to put his phone back into his pants' pocket.

"Nope, nuh uh," he laughs as you quickly sit back down into your seat, not wanting to cause a scene in an establishment as proper as this one.

"It's fine. It's a good picture, you look cute," he casually lets out, unaware of the blush rising to the surface of your cheeks, thanks to the fact that you were suddenly interested in playing with the left-over food on your plate.

"Jay! Delete it, I'll let you take another one," you whine from your seat, imagining just how bad a candid picture of you could be.

"Ugh, fine. Ever so picky." He playfully rolls his eyes at you as he takes his phone out and opens the camera app as you prepare yourself.

"Okay, how's this?" Jay turns the phone screen to you after he takes a few snaps on his phone.

"I approve," you grin at him as he goes through the pictures himself, unaware of the smile growing on his face.

"Okay now delete the first one," you point your finger at him, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Okay, okay! Bossy," he laughs as he raises in hands in surrender.

When Jay gets home that night, he recovers the image from his Recently Deleted folder, telling himself it's for the sake of the memory.

Obviously.

~ ~ ~

"It's not that big of a deal," Jay mutters from his spot as his eyes go from the Instagram post to his Exile and Belonging in Modern Literature reading that's due tomorrow, bright yellow highlighter in hand. Typically, you'd find the reading buried deep at the bottom of his school backpack. But because Jay ran into you this morning and because he complained to you about the amount of work he's fallen behind on and because you had threatened him to do his work or else you're not going on another date––a fake date that is––with him, he figured he should at least get one reading done and annotated, despite his strong dislike for highlighters (they hurt his eyes, okay?)

What he doesn't know, however, is how your threat was completely full of bluff––but don't tell him that.

"It is so a big deal, for you at least!" Jake hops off the bed and lands on the wooden floors of Jay's dorm room so hard, Jay winces and sends a mental apology to the poor person who lives below him.

Jake suddenly gasps. "I have to meet her, Jay! As your best friend, it's practically mandatory that I meet her."

Jay opens his mouth to protest, but not before Jake interrupts him once again. "Oh! We can bring Sunghoon too, it'll be so fun! The best friends meet the girlfriend."

Jay can't think of anything worst. Jay imagines that bringing you to meet his best friends would just intimidate you out of dating him––fake dating him, that is. Obviously.

He stares at his friend in agony then back at the reading in front of him––the one Jake said he'd come over to help annotate, but the intention completely left Jake's head the second he heard about Jay's recent dating life.

"You don't have to meet her," Jay says pointedly. "Plus, you already know her."

Jake frowns at his friend's excuse. "Yeah, but that was in middle school! This is different."

Jay's hands shuffle through the reading's pages in front of him as he realizes there's no way the two of them are going to finish the assignment at this point. He supposes he'll have to save death by blindness from highlighters for another day and hope you still agree to go out with him.

Jake suddenly gasps in realization.

"Oh my gosh! Childhood best friends turned college sweethearts," Jake says so dreamily, he might as well plaster heart eyes on. Hopeless romantic, this one.

Before Jay can argue, the piercing sound of three loud knocks echo through the small room, followed with a:

"Jay, are you in? It's me!"

Jay stills at the sound of your sweet voice. He whips his head to Jake, who is also frozen in place.

But the widened-eye boy is quick to come to his senses––unfortunately quicker than Jay himself––because the next thing Jay knows, Jake's eyes are lighting up and he's running to the door, ignoring Jay's screaming whispers through this seething teeth that were somewhere along the lines of Jake––stop, I swear to god if you open that door I'm gonna fucking--

"Y/N!" Jake swings the door wide open, revealing an overly excited him and a frozen Jay half-way to the door, as if he was about to grab the very boy welcoming you in. It's as if we're living in a Sims game and the player clicked pause on this very moment.

Jake's eyes are wildly going back and forth between you and your supposed boyfriend, as if he was waiting for Jay to run over and smother you in hugs and kisses...or something couple-y like that. Jay wouldn't know.

"Uh––hi," you're awkwardly standing inside the room now, a relatively large paper brown bag resting in your palms as you look around for a surface to place it on. Jay makes his way to you without a second thought, quickly taking the bag out of your hold.

"You seemed stressed out earlier, so I figured I could bring you some food as a little pick me up. I didn't know what you liked, so I kinda just got a little of everything from the dining hall. Nothing fancy," you're rambling, but smiling so excitedly at him, Jay doesn't know what to say.

Instead, his mouth slightly drops open as he stares at you in awe, mostly because he's not used to being on the receiving end of such spontaneously generous actions––all while Jake's still excitedly looking back and forth between the two of you, as if he was expecting a marriage proposal to come next.

"Oh wow. Thank you. Really," Jay, still touched by your simple act of kindness, softly says as he places the bag on the limited amount of empty space on his desk surface––the rest of it is covered with his untouched textbooks and unfinished assignments. He wonders if you did this out of playing your role or just because you wanted to. He internally hopes it's the latter. "Seriously, you didn't have to do."

"Nah, don't worry. I wanted to," you shrug with such a genuine smile that Jay realizes he actually missed your smile.

Despite having seen you during your brief run-in this morning when you were fetching your morning coffee, Jay realizes he missed you. The two of you haven't been seeing each other recently because of your busy schedule and if Jay didn't realize it before, he's now sure he missed your company and presence around.

Weird.

"Well, you two have fun! Sunghoon needs me for something," Jake suddenly chirps from his place near the front door, halfway through with putting his shoes on already, breaking the comforting silence that fell between the two of you.

Jay frowns. "But you said you were free all da––"

"SUNGHOON IS CALLING BYE!" And before Jay can even register what's happening, Jake's out the door without another word.

"Er..sorry about him, he's...weird," Jay scratches the back of his neck as he returns to his spot on his bed, mentally setting a reminder to yell at Jake later for leaving the two of you alone. Jay doesn't know exactly why, but he's nervous at the fact that you're here in his room. It's not like you two are complete strangers––or whatever you guys were before––anymore. "Good job on your part, though. How'd you know Jake was here?"

"Oh uh, I didn't"," you let out an awkward laugh. "I just felt like doing it."

Heat rushes to Jay's cheeks and he's not sure 1) what this newfound feeling is and 2) how to respond, yet again.

Having expecting you to leave after dropping the food off, Jay's taken by surprise when you take your shoes off and come over to his bed to look at the pile of work he's spread out.

"Is this everything you have to do?" You question the stressed-out boy as you flip through the various assignments, readings, and essays he put off in the past week.

"More or less," he groans. This is no rare occurrence by any means––Jay being behind in his work––but this time, Jay realizes he may actually be in deep shit, considering he has no idea where to begin.

Right as Jay's expecting a scolding from you, he looks up to meet a look of sympathy on your face. "Well, I mean, I'm pretty much done with my day. I can try to help, I recognize some of these readings from last semester."

Jay thinks to himself that the universe has sent him an angel through the form of you.

"Really? Wow, you were't kidding when you said you'd be a good girlfriend," he sends you a surprised look.

"I'm just being nice, Jay. A concept I'm sure you're not familiar with," you remark back at him, causing his forming smile to grow into a laugh.

"I can too be nice! Need I remind you of who's paying you $500, covering all of our dates AND giving you rides to class everyday?" He remarks pointedly at you, a teasing look resting in his eyes as you're reminded of the first of many times he's come to pick you up before class:

~ ~ ~

You're late.

This never happens.

But then again, your life's been a series of unexpected occurrences lately. Such as the fact that you're currently known as Jay Park's girlfriend, for one.

You're scrambling out of bed once you take one look at your phone and realize shit, you're already late for class. Throwing on whatever articles of clothing your eyes land on first, you're already mentally groaning at the fact that you'll have to skip breakfast and run across your campus to get to said class.

Curse your professor for hosting her lecture at the furthest possible building away from your dorm. Curse the architect who decided to make your campus so large.

You're running down the steps outside of your dorm building's doors when you're abruptly stopped by a familiar sounding cough. You look up from trying to gather all your belongings together at once to meet the gaze of the source of the sound––Jay.

"Wow, you're a mess," he smirks as he gets up from the spot on his car he was leaning against to make his way over to you.

"Gee, thanks! Good morning to you too," you flash him a sarcastic smile before your default frown quickly makes it way back onto your face.

"Aren't you gonna ask me why I'm here?" He grins as he grabs hold of your backpack to sling it across his own back as the two of you walk towards his car.

"Why are you here, Jay?" you sigh, your sarcastic tone hard to miss.

"To give you a ride to class, of course!" He's beaming at you, as if he's a pre-pubescent teen who just won their first girlfriend a prize from the arcade's claw machine.

Oh. That explains the car, you figure. Deep down inside, you're relieved that you'll no longer be bursting through the lecture hall's doors as a sweaty mess––a result of having to run across campus to get to class.

Determined to not let your satisfaction completely show, you resort with a little smile directed towards Jay as he opens the passenger door for you.

The second your enter Jay's car, the strong scent of coffee hits you, and your attention is targeted at the two small cups of coffee sitting in the cupholders of the car.

"Breakfast?" Jay asks as he enters through the driver's side and reaches into the backseat to whip out a small pastry bag. A small, deliciously smelling, pastry bag.

Okay, well. You suppose you could drop the annoyed act now.

Your eyes widen with joy as you grab the bag from him and open it to reveal your favorite breakfast sandwich. He's been taking notes, you'll give him that point.

"Okay, you win. Thank you," you grace him with a soft smile before taking a bite into the glorious gift in your hands.

"Of course, I was just feeling nice," he grins at you as he starts his car. "But don't get used to it." His tone is serious, but his smile directed towards you says differently.

And the fact that he still showed up to drive you to class the next morning.

And the next.

~ ~ ~

"And need I remind you who has to date your dumb ass for the $500 in question?" Your eyes narrow at the boy who can't seem to get that damn smile off his face.

Jay sticks his tongue out at you, ending the conversation. Really Jay? What are you, five? Well, mentally––probably.

You're looking around his minuscule dorm room for a place to sit down, and Jay can't help but feel embarrassed now that you're here, in his messy single studio room that pretty much reflects how Jay treats every other responsibility of his oh so hard life: neglected.

"Uh...here, you can sit on my bed," Jay immediately offers as he moves to the side to make room for your presence––and it isn't much, considering the university only provided him a twin XL bed which is definitely not built for two grown college-aged kids.

If you told yourself a few weeks ago that you'd be shoulder to shoulder on a bed belonging to the guy you cringed at the very thought of, you wouldn't have believed yourself. You wouldn't have believed yourself if you said you were actually glad Jay let you stay instead of kicking you out after delivering the food. Huh.

Weird.

"You know, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids. I always carried us through those horrible multiplication tests in the fifth grade," you wink at him as you settle in the spot next to him, hands grabbing hold of the papers in his lap.

Jay let out a laugh, nudging your shoulder with his. "Hey! The twelve times table is hard, okay?"

You roll your eyes at him––a habit of yours he's noticed whenever the two of you are together, but more recently, he thinks it's been more out of fun than annoyance.

He wonders why.

When Jay had first brought up the idea of bringing you as his date to his father's company dinner, you had expected a fairly fancy five-star restaurant with a formal dress code––for you've become accustomed to Jay's lifestyle. Turns out, your expectations can continue to be exceeded. Because what you had expected to be a simple dinner with a few other business men and women turned out to be an entire party, hosted in a hotel whose interior resembled something close to a castle (Or what you assume a castle looks like, as you've never personally been into a castle yourself, but this hotel is close enough).

Your eyes sparkle at the extravagant columns and diamond chandeliers hanging high above you, and Jay smiles at the expression on your face; like a little girl being brought to the amusement park for the first time ever.

"Wow, this is...wow," you mutter as you drink in the scene in front of you: people dressed in formal attire likewise to yours and Jay's, mingling and drinking what you imagine to be beverages that cost more than your entire life's worth.

Jay laughs from behind you, "Yeah the company goes a little...extra when it comes to these company dinners."

You scoff as you look up at him. "Oh really, you don't say?" You look around and you're suddenly aware of the many people surrounding the two of you and the attention you've acquired ever since entering the building.

"Jay, people are staring." You shuffle closer to him, your voice lowering down to a whisper.

"Well, it's not everyday the son of the company's CEO brings his girlfriend with him, so...looks like we'll be the talk of the party tonight. Smiles on," he winks at you, and you just know he's loving the attention the two of you are receiving right now.

"Jay Park? Is that you?" You hear a warm voice call out from behind the two of you.

The two of you turn around to meet the owner of the voice, a middle-aged woman dressed in an evening gown that matches the pattern of high-end brands you've been recognizing ever since arriving.

"Mrs. Lee! It's so nice seeing you again," Jay cheerily addresses the woman as the two of you bow in greeting.

You internally giggle at the thought of your Jay being so picture-perfect in the eyes of his father's co-workers.

"This is Y/N," he continues, his hand finding its way to your back, protectively resting it there as you go to introduce yourself. "My girlfriend."

You swear you feel goosebumps rise from where he's lightly touching you, and more so when he introduces you as his girlfriend.

You tell yourself it's just your nerves. Yes, that's it, you're just nervous. I mean, you're in a room filled with people who could easily pay off all your college loans with just a snap of their fingers, who wouldn't be nervous? Right? Right.

"Y/N! It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I've heard so much about you!" Mrs. Lee excitedly exclaims as you turn to Jay with a slightly confused look plastered on your face. He mirrors your expression as he shrugs, moving to stand behind you completely, bringing his hands to rest lowly at your hips.

His hands feel like feathers on the thin fabric of your evening gown, so light, so delicate, as if he's unsure if he's crossing a line. It leaves you wanting more, wanting to naturally lean against him and his warmth. You quick to shake the thought of your head as Mrs. Lee chirps up again.

"Jay's father is always talking about how you've been keeping Jay pleasantly busy nowadays! Good thing too, about time this poor boy settle down for someone as beautiful as you," the woman rambles on as you feel a blush creep up on your cheeks at the thought of Jay talking about you to his dad. If only they knew.

"We should probably go find our seats, I think the dinner is beginning soon," Jay says from behind you, saving the two of you from having to listen to Mrs. Lee's story of how she's known Jay ever since he was five years old and seeing him grow into this mature, loving, young man is so amazing. Oh look! I have baby pictures.

Yeah, he was more so saving himself from embarrassment.

The two of you bid your goodbyes before Jay gently uses the hand on your back to maneuver you through the crowd of socializing business moguls.

"She's not wrong, you know," you feel Jay dip his head so he's speaking near your ear, his warm breath tickling your earlobe, as the two of you make your way through the large foyer room.

"Hm?" You hum in question, turning your head up just enough to be able to make eye contact with him as he responds to your look of confusion.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says, eye contact not breaking once. You freeze in your steps.

You stare back at him in silence. Oh.

Your mind is panicking as it flips through your mental book of responses, unsure of what to say back. But because your mind is cloudy from staring at a put-together Jay in a dark navy suit to match your dress (mixed with the nervous butterflies in your stomach––have they always been there?), the only sound that's able to leave your lips is the small stutter of a:

"Huh?"

Wow Y/N, you had one job. A simple "thank you" could've sufficed! And you went with "Huh"?

You felt like a fifth grader who just learned from a friend of a friend of a friend that their crush likes them back.

"U-um. Mrs. Lee. What she said about you. You look good, really," somehow your nervousness made its way over to Jay now––his eyes flickering from yours to anywhere, anything, else in the room––the awkward tension growing tenfold each second.

Goddamnit Y/N, this is just Jay you're talking to, get a grip.

You're knocked back into reality when he slightly nudges your back to continue making your way to the main ball room, where the dinner is being held.

"Is that a compliment from the Jay Park?" Your smirk can't be seen by Jay, since he's still trailing behind you, but he can definitely hear it through your tone.

"Don't make me take it back," he chuckles, his words felt against your neck, leaving behind a tingly sensation you're not sure why you're feeling. You're glad he's behind you, so he isn't able to see the blush creeping onto your face for the second time tonight.

Jay gives a small nod to the people behind the check-in desk stationed at the entrance as the two of you waltz right into a large ball room lined with countless circular dining tables. So much for a small business dinner.

As the two of you approach one of the tables placed at the front of the room, you notice a familiar figure seated next to the seats reserved for you and Jay.

"Y/N!" Jake exclaims as he gets up from his seat to greet the both of you. "I'm so glad you made it, Jay was so excited to bring you tonight. Deadass would not stop talking about it."

Jay lets out a noise that falls somewhere between a cough and a goose being strangled, his widened eyes warning his talkative friend to just shut up. He's silently cursing the company for always seating his and Jake's family at the same table for these events.

"Aw, is that so? He's lucky he's cute or else I wouldn't have agreed," you grin, winking at your assumed boyfriend sitting next to you.

"Hey, YOU were the one excited to come! I recall a certain someone's face lighting up when I suggested we go shopping for tonight," Jay immediately retorts.

"Only because you were buying," you giggle, causing Jake to laugh as well.

"Damn, Jay. Tough," Jake jokingly adds as you laugh alongside him. The scowl sitting on Jay's face expresses the opposite of what he's feeling right now: warmth filling him up from the sound of your laughter and the image of you getting along so well with his best friend.

"I'm gonna get us some drinks, you two have fun making fun of me," Jay narrows his eyes at the two of you as he gets up from his seat. You bid him off with a smile before turning back to Jake.

"No but really though, this boy would not stop talking about you coming tonight. Then again, he doesn't really ever stop talking about you," Jake nonchalantly says, not knowing how much he was exposing his friend to you right now.

You raise an eyebrow up in response, "Oh really?"

"Seriously! I don't know what you did to him, Y/N, but this Jay I've been seeing recently is new. He complains a lot less about life nowadays, especially on the days he sees you," he leans back in his chair as his comment brings a smile to your face. Little does he know.

You stretch your neck up to find the boy in question and spot him right as he's returning to your shared table, two drinks in hand. You lock eyes with him from across the room and without a second thought, you're giving him a genuine smile that he's immediately returning.

Your heart beats faster at the view.

You wonder why.

It's 3:07AM when you hear the first ding.

You're not 100% sure as of why you're awake at this hour on a Tuesday night––perhaps a combination of your restless thoughts and feelings not letting you sleep plus the typical stress that comes hand-in-hand with the life of a college student.

It's 3:09AM when you hear the second ding, and you brush it off, assuming it was just Heeseung spamming you with memes again––something he does often when he also can't sleep (you found this out the hard way).

It's still 3:09AM when you hear the third ding, and at 3:10AM , you finally reach over and decide to acknowledge the being who's bothering you at this godforsaken hour.

Jay [3:07AM]: Y/N

Jay [3:09AM]: hi

Jay [3:09AM]: r u awake rn

Y/N [3:10AM]: unfortunately so

Y/N [3:11AM]: why are you up

Jay [3:11AM]: come outside

Y/N [3:13AM: jay it's 3am

Jay [3:13AM]: ye and? don't tell me ur a college student with a curfew

Jay [3:14AM]: plus im alrdy waiting for u outside so u have no choice

Jay [3:15AM]: :)

You groan at your bright phone screen currently illuminating your dark dorm room.

You ponder the consequences you may have to suffer tomorrow if you stay up any later than you already have. But considering the fact that you're probably just going to stay awake lying in bed for god knows how long anyways, why not?

(And you would like to point out that this decision has nothing to do with the fact that you haven't seen Jay in a few days and that maybe a tiny, tiny, tiny, part of you may have missed his presence. Nothing.)

And since that logic is obviously valid (you really gotta work on justifying your life choices), you're suddenly grabbing a hoodie from your closet and hoping it'll be enough to keep you, who's merely in an old band t-shirt from high-school and pajama shorts, warm.

The breeze hits your skin the second you open the doors to your dorm's building, and you're met with the view of Jay's sleek, black BMW that probably costs more than your tuition. He waves at you from the driver's seat, motioning for you to get in.

"To what do I owe you the pleasure at this hour," you deadpan at him with a stone-cold voice as you enter through the passenger's side door, hoping your tone was enough to hide the fact that you're giddy at the fact he invited you out at 3AM in the morning. Like a high-school girl sneaking out of her house to meet up with her bad-boy boyfriend that her parents dislike.

The second you enter his car, you're instantly comforted by the warm air blasting through his vents and his playlist softly playing in the background. Jay's pajama pants and messy hair give you more than enough information to know that he probably just rolled out of his own bed as well. You don't know why, but your view: Jay in his oversized hoodie with his unkept hair in front of your dorm building at 3AM on a Tuesday night, gives you comfort in weird ways you can't explain even if you tried.

But it's obviously just your cloudy, 3AM mind not thinking straight. Obviously.

"When I can't sleep, I go on drives around campus. It helps clear my mind," he says, looking over at you to give you a quick smile before starting his car. "Plus, SnapMap said you were still awake, so...figured you'd wanna join."

"Oh so what, you're my stalker now? You're not driving to the woods to kill me now, are you?" You tease, an eyebrow brought up. Jay lets out a laugh from beside you as he begins to drive further into your campus.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and see," he throws you a wink before reverting his gaze back to the road, mindlessly driving to wherever the road decides to take him.

A comfortable silence falls in between the two of you as Jay continues to drive endless routes around your campus. You look over to the boy driving next to you and take in his features––you don't know what changed, but you no longer feel the same anger or annoyance bubbling within you when you're around him. You're not sure when this changed, but you figure it's just the effect of desensitization. After all, you've been spending so much time with him, you're bound to get used to it. Right?

"Why were you up?" Jay finally asks after a few minutes of just the two of you silently basking in each other's presences.

"Ah, you know. The usual. Endless thoughts running through my mind, stress from school, nothing new," you sign, giving him a soft smile followed with a shrug.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You answer him with silence as you search your head for the answer.

"I don't know. This is kinda weird, isn't it?" You don't know why you get a sudden surge of confidence, but before you can stop yourself, you find yourself rambling on. "If you had told me a month ago that I'd be here driving around with you when it's nearly 4AM, I would've laughed in your face."

Jay doesn't know whether to laugh or scoff. "Is the idea of hanging out with me that unappealing to you?"

You give him a serious look back. "I mean, up until a month ago when you needed me for whatever this game is, you literally pretended I didn't exist."

Oh. Awkward.

You freeze at your own words, mentally screaming at yourself for letting the words leave your mouth. Why, why, why.

"Y/N..." Jay says after clearing his throat after a few seconds of silence.

"No it's fine, it was a joke," you awkwardly cough and direct your attention to anything else around you right now. The view of your campus' buildings zooming by. The clicking of Jay's blinker when he switches lanes. The quiet roaring of his car's engine. The nervous tapping of his fingers against the steering wheel.

The rest of the ride is excruciatingly silent as he exits the main road and into an empty parking lot of some administration building made out of glass that has too many floors for you to count.

You don't know why you feel your heart beating in your throat as Jay puts the car into park––why you feel uneasy. You slightly turn towards him in your seat, hoping to pick up any sign of well...anything from him.

You don't know why you feel a twinge of guilt––it's not like what you said was necessarily wrong. If you were being honest, you were slightly bothered by how the two of you seemed to silently agree not to mention your past all this time. You were always one to seek answers, to seek closure. You couldn't help but bring it up––Jay was your best friend during those years. For him to just wake up one day and pretend you were nothing to him hurt you, and you couldn't help but still wonder what in the world you did to initiate his actions.

"I'm sor–" You're interrupted with his timid voice, as if he was almost afraid to speak.

"I'm not good with people." He's nibbling on his bottom lip, fingers nervously picking at a spot on the steering wheel.

You're opening and closing your mouth, unsure how to respond. You're 100% positive you look like a fish right now. Good for you.

"I don't know why. Jake calls it commitment issues but in order to have commitment, people have to stay in my life. And people just...don't. They're all bound to leave at some point. So what's the point of putting in effort into relationships if they're just going to leave you at the end?"

You're stunned by his sudden confession, not having been prepared for such a heavy topic to arise between the two of you. Up until tonight, your interactions had always been light-hearted and easy––you guys got along well. You didn't know this is how he felt all along.

But you knew where he was coming from.

You knew what Jay had gone through as a child––his mother having left him and his dad when he was young. You remember when your parents had told you the news at the young age of 13, and you remember the pain and sorrow you felt for your then friend. All you wanted to do was go to him and comfort him, but he had already cut you out from his life by then.

"Or maybe I'm the problem. My dad barely acknowledges my existence because he thinks giving me an allowance is all the parenting I need, my friends probably only stick around because they feel bad for me, you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the bet, and, fuck, I'm literally known as the campus' fuckboy," Jay continues, falling deeper and deeper into the hole he dug himself.

He hates this, he hates opening up and feeling vulnerable, so he doesn't know why he's doing it now. He doesn't know why he feels comfortable voicing out his fears and worries when he's around you. But he does know it's a new feeling––one he doesn't know how to deal with.

"Jay," you lace your voice with as much comfort as you can provide. None of this is his fault, you want to tell him. "I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything," he says with a hint of bitterness and you can't tell if it's directed towards you or the topic at hand.

You're completely turned in your seat now to face him––despite the fact that he refuses to meet your gaze, afraid that looking at you is gonna bring out the most vulnerable in him. "You can talk to me. Talking about it makes it a lot easier. I'll always be here for you, as a friend."

Jay doesn't know what it is or why, but something in him snaps at the sound of a certain word falling out of your lips. Friend. Friend.

Friends don't make his heart beat nervously whenever he's around them. Friends don't keep him up at 3AM in the morning, pondering about his feelings for them. Friends don't provide him with this new, warm comfort he's become accustomed to whenever he's around you.

Deep down, Jay knows you didn't mean to add fuel to the fire. But because he's strong-headed, stubborn, and hates how vulnerable he feels next to you, he unleashes his emotions without thinking about the destruction coming along.

"It's none of your business, Y/N. Forget I said anything. You're just a toy for this stupid game and when it's all over we can go back to our own lives and forget this ever happened."

His sudden words cut deep, but they hurt him more than you. The second the words tumble out of his mouth, he's hit with the feeling of instant regret washing over him, and the lump forming in his throat restricts him from finding the right words to take them back.

The silence that falls between the two of you this time is different. It's a cold silence. A loud silence.

Jay feels his walls coming back up around him––the ones you managed to get through––and all he wants to do is apologize but he's terrified. Terrified of seeing your reaction, terrified of losing you again. For the second time.

You tell yourself he doesn't mean it. You tell yourself that he's just enduring more pain that one should ever receive.

But you also tell yourself that this wouldn't be the first time Jay leaves you in the dust.

You tell yourself that you're foolish for ever believing a friendship, or more, could come out of this act at the end. That you're so naive for feeling those stupid, stupid butterflies you've started to notice in your stomach whenever you see, or even think of, him.

"Okay," you begin with a firm tone. You're hurt, but you refuse to show it. You won't let him hurt you for a second time. Not again.

"Just...find me when you need me. As your fake girlfriend or just...me. I'm still here for you," is the last thing you say before un-clicking your seatbelt and leaving his car, beginning your walk back to your dorm hall.

Jay is unsure about many things in life. He's unsure about what he wants to do in the future, he's unsure of where he's going to settle in life, heck, he's unsure about what to have for lunch tomorrow. But he's sure about one thing.

That he's wearing his heart on his sleeve right now, and it's all because of you.

That you've become this new lifeline and he has to choose between holding onto you or drowning.

When Jay wakes up the next morning, his first gut instinct is to get ready to pick you up for class. But today's different. Jay doesn't know where the two of you stand now, especially after last night.

Jay doesn't know how to deal with this combination of unknown emotions he's been feeling lately. They didn't come out of no where, by any means, he realizes. They've been slowly growing over the past month of seeing you so often––like a plant he's been watering overtime, not expecting it to bloom into a flower so suddenly––but he figured it was nothing more than just enjoying the company of a friend.

Until he realizes that the term friend just doesn't suite you anymore––not to him, at least. And that scares him. It scares him that you've made him genuinely smile more in this past month than he ever has in his 19 years of living. It scares him that when he's around you he can't comprehend his own thoughts, his feelings. It scares him that you make him vulnerable, that you've changed him. That you've managed to make the walls that he's spent so long building and polishing to crumble with a simple tap of your finger.

In a perfect world, Jay would have already told you all this––he would be unafraid of how you would react, unafraid of your rejection, unafraid of losing this growing relationship with you. But alas, we don't live in a perfect world. And so when Jay drives to class that day, he drives right past your dorm building.

"Where's Y/N?" is the first thing Jake questions when he enters Jay's car that morning, confused by your absence, having been used to you being in the front seat every morning when Jay goes to give Jake rides to class as well.

"I don't know," Jay mutters, unemotional eyes focused on the road in front of him, not interested in continuing a conversation that involves thinking about you.

Jake hesitates as curiosity gets the best of him. "Did you guys get into a fight or something?"

Jay's hands tighten around the steering wheel of his car. "Or something. Let's just leave it at that."

There are a few beats of silence before Jake speaks up again.

"Well, I guess this works out because I wanted to talk to you about something."

Jay continues to stare straight ahead of him, focusing on just trying to get by without mentally beating himself up at the simple thought of you.

The simple thought of you and your smile. Your witty remarks. Your stupid eye rolls. Your laughter. Your kindness. So much for not thinking about you.

"I'm calling it off," Jake's words catch Jay off guard.

"Huh? Calling what off?"

"The bet. I'm calling it off. I don't care about the textbook fees I'll have to pay next semester. Look, fight or not, you and Y/N are good for each other, everyone can see it. And I really don't want this to end up being one of those messed up teen TV shows where the girlfriend finds out the entire relationship was based off of a stupid game and then they break up and the boyfriend falls into eternal sadness and regret. And I don't wanna see you sad, dude. So yeah! Congrats," although he's admitting defeat, Jake's beaming widely, just content with the fact that his best friend has finally found happiness through the form of you. "You win."

But Jay feels like the opposite of a winner. Because even though his only intention coming into this was simply winning the bet, his life isn't as simple as it was a month ago. Because he discovered something much more valuable than some stupid textbook fees or five hundred dollars or getting his physics homework done for an entire semester.

Something he's scared he's already lost.

You.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next time you see Jay is at the same time and place as when he first ever appeared to pick you up––at 12:17PM on a Friday afternoon, as you're exiting the doors of the lecture building home to your awfully long Capitalism in World History class. This time, however it's different.

Because this time, it's one month later, and Jay Park is no longer a forgotten side character in the story of your life. This time, you're frustrated because it's been three days since you've last heard from Jay. And because it's been three days since you've last heard from him, you can't focus on anything else, and because you can't focus on anything else, you're falling behind on every other aspect in your life. Jay's somehow managed to become the center of your life without even having to be present.

Well, up until now. Up until you go down the steps of your lecture hall's entrance and look up to be met with a figure leaning on a car you're far too familiar with. You freeze in your steps as you make eye contact with the boy you've been thinking about non-stop for the past month three days.

Your mind tells you to walk away, to just follow your flight instinct instead of fight, to just go back to your normal life. But here's the thing. Ever since Jay's made his way back to your life, it's been far from normal.

And if you're being honest, you had no interest in going back to your normal life. Normal's overrated anyways. You find your legs bringing yourself over to him, your heart leading the way.

"Hi," you simply say, planting yourself right in front of him.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" You already know the answer, but you want to hear him say it.

"Waiting for you," Jay doesn't hesitate in answering you. This time will be different, he tells himself.

"I can walk myself home, thanks," you state, but your actions tell differently, as you make no sign of moving from your spot in front of him.

Jay's mind contemplates telling you everything. About how he regrets that friendship-breaking decision he made that one fateful day in the eighth grade, about his true feelings, about how he first suspected these feelings when he was 11 years old and saw you in your fancy get-up for the sixth grade dance but put it off as a little crush, and about how the same feelings grew into something so, so much more in the present. But seeing that putting all these thoughts into words would involve more than one functioning brain cell (which is all he's convinced he has in the moment, for the view of you staring up at him, looking like that, has his brain short-circuiting), he settles with:

"He called it off. It's over. The bet."

"Oh."

Silence.

Okay, Jay. This is your chance. Say it.

"Is that it?" You lift an eyebrow, awaiting for more explanation. When it doesn't come, you slightly nod and start backing away. "I'll see you around then."

Is that it? Do the two of you just go back to your respective lives now? How can Jay do that, when he doesn't even recall what his life was like before you entered it––and especially when he has absolutely no interest in going back to that life?

Fuck it.

"Y/N!" He stands up straight, a newfound confidence taking over. This time will be different, he tells himself. Because now, he knows what he wants. For sure.

You turn towards him, to see him already making his way towards you, stopping in his steps when he finds himself close enough to you that he can't concentrate anymore.

"I'm sorry for ditching you in the eighth grade. I'm sorry for ignoring you since then. I'm sorry for dragging you into this stupid mess and for pushing you away and I'm sorry for calling you a toy. Because it's far from truth. I like you. A lot. And––and I'm scared. I'm scared of what this means for us, because I just keep messing things up and all I know is that I don't wanna wake up tomorrow and realize you're not in my life anymore and––"

"Woah, woah, Jay. Slow down," you look up at him, the corners of your lips threatening to curve up into a smile. "You're an idiot, you know."

Jay's never really confessed his feelings to anyone before, per say, so he doesn't really know what to expect. But he's watched enough Netflix rom-coms in this lifetime (which is still not that many) to know that hearing the words "you're an idiot" isn't what you're supposed to hear after pouring your heart and soul out. Surely not, right?

"I––I'm not sure how to respond to that," he quietly says, searching your eyes for a sign, for anything. You giggle at his sudden shyness as you grab both his arms and look at him right in the eyes.

"It's okay. I get it, if anything, I'm also scared. But you somehow got me wrapped around your stupid finger, and I hate it," you smirk at him, your hands slowly making their way up his arms to circle around his neck.

Jay's hands naturally fall at your waist as he lets out a breathe he didn't even know he was holding as he returns your smirk. "Well, I could say the same about you. And I also hate it, for your information."

"Hmm, is that so? I guess it cancels out then, right?" You smile at him as he's pulling you in so close, your head turns cloudy.

Jay grins at you, his eyes holding so much joy and endearment as they quickly flicker down to your lips before returning to your own eyes. "I guess this only means one thing then."

"Mm, and what's that?"

And before Jay can answer––and because your life's been anything but normal lately––you make the first move this time, moving your head up to close the small gap between the two of you.

His arms instinctively tighten around you as you capture his lips with your very own, and Jay swears he's about to lift off into space right now. He's on cloud nine, and he makes no plans to touch the ground ever again.

The kiss quickly becomes fervent, all the pent-up tension that the two of you had for one another finally finding its way out, all the words that were previously left unsaid finally expressing themselves. You don't even care if you're being judged by the conservative faculty members of your school right now, or by the looks of fellow students walking past the two of you.

You try your best to keep yourself from smiling as he continues to press his lips against yours, his hand moving to hold your chin, guiding your mouth with his.

Before you find yourself getting carried away, you step back to take a breath, resting your forehead against his chest as his hands rest against your back. He smiles at the sound of you giggling against him.

Jay takes a step back to take one look at you and realizes, in this moment, that change can be good. And he's willing to undergo this change. As long as it's with you.

⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺ ⸺

The next morning, you bounce down the steps of your dorm building's entrance to meet the wide, bright smile of your ex-childhood-bestfriend-turned-fake-boyfriend-turned-real-boyfriend waiting for you in front of his car, small pastry bag in hand. You smile back at him.

Jay drives you to class that day.

And everyday after that.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ :

✰ let me know what you think! if u made it til the end, mwah :') <3

[alexlwrites]

𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒌𝒐𝒐𝒌'𝒔 𝑱𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒍

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: Jungkook x Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚:  The one where Jungkook, a second year student in the Auror Academy, keeps a journal to vent about his unsuccessful attempts at wooing you. 

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔: crack, humor, romance, Harry Potter Au

𝑨/𝑵: This is a Harry Potter AU but you don’t have to read Harry Potter to understand it. If you have any questions just let me know!

°•. ✿ .•°

November 4th, 10am

There’s this girl in my antidotes class - Y/N - that I swear to Merlin must have done this fucking class at least twice, because she has the answer to every question on the tip of her tongue. No one even gets the chance to speak before her hand is up in the air waiting to show just how much smarter than all of us she is. And when she gets it right, she gives the professor the brightest, most annoying smile, like he just handed her one million galleons or something. 

I mean, this is an antidotes class, not the Wizard Nobel Prize. She needs to calm down.

Ugh, anyway. Back to what I was saying: There’s this girl in my antidotes class - Y/N - and I kind of want her to have my babies.

November 4th, 12pm

“Dude, you’re drooling” Taehyung says to me in the cafeteria later, when we’re sitting down for lunch “You gotta do something about this Y/N crush, it’s driving all of us insane” 

“Yeah, man” Jimin agrees, but that’s just because he agrees with everything Taehyung says and that’s why they had matching puffskein tattoos on their asses “Either ask her out or let us Obliviate you so you can move on”

See, this is all Taehyung and Jimin’s fault really. Before them, Y/N was really just the girl that I copied the answers off of in Advanced Herbology who I had only ever seen the back of her head. But then they started talking to her- like we even needed a fourth friend! -and before I knew it, she started casually greeting us when she walked into class and I finally got to see her face and BAM! I have chosen our children’s name and Hogwarts Houses (one Gryffindor boy and a Slytherin girl, because Y/N was a Slytherin and she would probably fight me if I tried to get both our kids in Gryffindor and, let’s be honest here, she would win).

Now, I’m not necessarily the most romantic wizard in the world. I don’t think I even qualify in the top five thousand. But, back in my school days, Professor Trelawney had told me I would eventually find the love of my life and  stay with her for the rest of my days. Granted, I was pretty sure that woman was just a crackhead posing as a witch to buy drugs and she also told me I would get electrocuted and die in a month, but still. She got 1 out of 2 and six years later I am in love and terrified of microwaves. 

“I’m gonna ask her out” I defend myself from my nosy friends “I’m just waiting for the right time.” 

The right time would be whenever I could get my hands in some Liquid Luck, but due to that being a highly complicated potion and that my last few attempts of brewing it ended in bleached brows and violent diarrhea, that specific day was looking further and further away.

November 4th, 12:30

One of the things I love the most about Y/N was how kind she was. Was she an annoying know-it-all? Absolutely. Did she also make sure to share her knowledge with the entire class and help everyone out? She sure did.

I still remember when I was failing my Demons and Beasts class and she sat with me for hours and carefully went over the entire subject of the semester with a gentle tone and the patience of a saint. 

Sure, I did still fail the test and had to redo it, but that was not her fault. She was not to be blamed for my inability to listen to her go on about wraiths when her perfume was all over me and her shirt was cut just low enough that I could look down her blouse and catch just the slightest peeks of her bra that would haunt me and cause me to almost fail 2 other classes.

I wished I could gather the courage to tell her that. Not the bra part, the part about her kindness. 

November 4th, 1pm

I take it fucking back. How can she just be nice to everyone?

Like that dude Namjoon. I know he doesn’t need help with his paper on counter-curses because I know he used to tutor that class. He’s just pretending to suck so she would help him and as a person who actually sucked I find that very offensive to my culture. 

He’s sitting next to her all the way across the cafeteria and even I, who probably burned off my retinas with my attempt to brew Felix Felices in my guest bathroom, could tell that he was staring down her blouse. Was he not aware of the unspoken rule that whatever was hiding down there was only for my eyes? Had I not made myself clear enough by… I don’t know, sending positive energies to the universe? Did Trelawney not write our love in the stars?

We are fated, Kim. Meant to be. The only thing you are meant to be is big and clumsy and probably like a model, because you are real jacked and I respect that.

Whatever. I don’t care. I’m sure Y/N will shake him off soon. Maybe slap him. I don’t really have to step in. She can take care of herself.

November 4th, 1:05pm

I jinxed him. 

November 4th, 1:07pm

Namjoon is being taken to the hospital wing. That will teach him a lesson.

 November 4th, 1:10pm

Y/N is going with him. She’s holding his hand.

Bugger. 

November 4th, 1:11pm

He winked at me on his way out. The absolute disrespect, the gall of this dude.

November 4th, 1:12pm

I jinxed him again. Got caught and now I have to help train the freshmen in hand in hand combat. 

Bugger it all to hell.

(Part two>>>)

°•. ✿ .•°

[Permanent taglist: @imknewattis ; @dreamamubarak ; @onlythebest-106 ; @betysotelo18 ; @havetaeminforbreakfast ; @uno7 ]

[flowers-of-io]

Dunno if you read my tags on that recent Light v Dark post yet BUT… I think the idea of Savathûn becoming a Lightbearer as the (current) penultimate example of the Traveler / the Light favouring complexity-change-growth-expansion would be very interesting to you. Of Savathûn literally rejecting simplicity by ridding herself of her worm in favour of choosing complexity / the Light and the Light in turn choosing her. 👀

I'm!!!!! You're SO right about the whole thing but these tags especially smacked me in the face because. ouGH.

I'm terminally sick about the fact that the Light is all about choice. The Winnower says about the Gardener:

That wandering refugee chose to make a stand, spend their power to say: "Here I prove myself right. Here I wager that, given power over physics and the trust of absolute freedom, people will choose to build and protect a gentle kingdom ringed in spears. And not fall to temptation. And not surrender to division. And never yield to the cynicism that says, everyone else is so good that I can afford to be a little evil."

It's all about giving you a gift and letting you choose what to do with it--all by yourself, out of your free will. All this talk about the Traveler choosing Guardians, the Young Wolf being "Traveler's Chosen", and yet you must first choose to be chosen! Light is a reckless gift because the Gardener wagers you will use it well, even (and maybe especially) if you don't remember making the choice to accept it. Nokris says in Arrivals, "Give and be given. Take and be Taken.", and this--this is exactly what is required, only this: devotion that births bravery that births sacrifice--this ultimate offering of giving yourself up for someone else...

And yes, yes, this is exactly why Immaru chose Savathûn!!!!! I'm INSANE over the fact the Traveler showed her the vision of her death--"I saw the end before it happened"--when she was still in the crystal. It knew her so well!!! It knew her nature had always been cunning and insight and--quoting Savathûn herself here--"ignorance keeps, knowledge usurps". Savathûn, who after millennia of serving the Deep had still been wary of the Logic, because she had not found that strict, eternal proof it was right. Savathûn who fed on people's failed guesses about her, who flipped the absolute shit when we dared assume we knew her.

And what the Traveler did was smack the ultimate lesson about trust into her and tell her she would never know!!!! She would never be sure!!!!! If there's an answer, I don't hear it!!!!!!! BECAUSE NOW THE WORLD BEGINS TO FADE!!!!! And it fucks me up so much because then in the Altar of Reflection Savathûn says, "I didn't want to die, you know. I had always wanted to live." One of the first things we learn about her, back when she was Sathona, is her mortifying fear of death. She says about the forst year of sailing with her sisters, "these are the happiest years of my life", and RIGHT AFTER THAT writes: "I want to be a mother not because I want to spawn but because I want a long life. Long enough to make a difference. We have been at sea a year and I am afraid, afraid we will die out here." This is what prompted her to dive, that they were running out of time and she was almost too old to eat the mother jelly. More time. More life.......

AND SHE STILL CHOSE TO GO THROUGH WITH IT. DESPITE NOT BEING SURE. DESPITE RISKING EVERYTHING.

My feelings about Sav outright asking the Traveler to save her, submitting to it, calling herself a supplicant, are a whole 'nother can of worms entirely, but--again--CHOICE.

I love your notion that she gave it all up to have a choice--not only to side with the Light, but also in the broader sense, to be free to make her own fate.

And we should mention too how insane a wager the Traveler was making here. This woman had stalked it for billions of years! This woman who cannot be trusted, who feeds on deceit, who had once stood for everything the Traveler is genuinely afraid of. This had all the right to go so horrendously, spectacularly wrong!!! And to some extent it did, and that's even more insane, because the Traveler did this immense act of trust, and she did an immense act or trust, and then she just went and immediately broke it. Proving the Winnower right, unwittingly as it were.

AND WHAT'S EVEN MORE INSANE is that the Traveler DOESN'T PUNISH HER FOR IT. ALRIGHT? LET THAT SINK IN. She doesn't get laserbeamed to death, the Traveler doesn't remove her Light, Ghost cries about why the Traveler isn't doing anything--even after we free it from the cobwebs! It is still just there, silently watching. And the last thing it does when Sav finally dies is blinding us with a flash of light right as Immaru escapes, so that we won't catch him.

There's this play I had to read in high school, The Undivine Comedy (the one by Z. Krasiński, not the one by T. Barolini), I absolutely hated the story but loved the tropes. I should probably dissect it in a separate post on my main, especially the point it makes regarding the romanticisation of an artist's lifestyle, but that's for another day. But here I wanted to talk about the ending, when Pancras (essentially the epitome of evil) screams, "Galilaee, victis" in all caps and gets laserbeamed to death by the light of God's glory. And I remember being like holy shit when I read that, because I'm always like holy shit when the cornered antagonist realises the Force Of Good was actually right, like when Savathûn (SAVATHÛN, with her plans upon plans!!!) admits she miscalculated. But put in a (roughly) the same situation, in the general orbit of the same trope, Pancras gets obliterated and (dead, vulnerable) Savathûn has her Ghost saved from certain death by the very entity whom trust she has just broken.

Because redemption is not a single grand decision!!! It's a decision. And then it's a decision. And then it's a decision. It's making this choice over and over to build and protect, not to fall to temptation, not to surrender to division. It's not a pact, like with the worms, a single choice you can never back up from. No, there is always a way out, always the choice to stop choosing the Light. THIS is forgiveness!!! THIS is a redemption arc!!! And it's still far from being done, and I'm so here to see it unfold, and I'm in tears.

Anyway. Yeah. I, um, I'm sorry if you expected a more hinged reply to that...

[hotxcheeto]

Hey could you do the Lis ppl with a bimbo s/o?

━ 𝐁𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐎 𝐒/𝐎

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙨 - Chloe, Rachel, Victoria, Nathan, Kate 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 - Cursing, Mentions of mean people, drug use, alcohol, sexual themes 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙤𝙛𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 ? - Yeah/Nope

𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧'𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - Sorry this took so long lovely! I live for Bimbo!Reader though holy shit I would write full fics on this once requests open

☆ 𝐂𝐡𝐥𝐨𝐞 - You guys were friends before dating, and she always hated yet love how oblivious and outright dumb you could be sometimes. You had a pretty face but when it came to brains, you weren't the brightest. But she loved it because it was so sweet half the time. You just didn't care and that little smile you got when she corrected you was always adorable.

You tried, its what counted. But Chloe definetely laughs at some of the shit you say especially while high. You remind her of that girl from mean girls. Definitely follows you around the mall like a lost puppy when you're buying clothes but when it comes to paying, you're not so good with money. But she loves it, makes her feel needed.

But what she hates is how others (a lot of men) look at you, like a piece of bacon. You're so focused on Chloe you barely notice, especially their pickup lines you just skate right past them and go to your blue-haired now very pissed off girlfriend.

But you can always get her red in the face from what you say. You're flirty with no filter.

But you're an angel, that is one thing people say about you. You're one of the nicest people in the world. Until someone hates on you or anyone that you love.

You might be kinda dumb but nobody is gonna be mean to your friends or girlfriend. Chloe lives for when you argue with people, because you somehow always win despite not understanding half of what they called you.

You both are polar opposites, especially in style mostly. You look like a very unlikely duo but it works in it's own special way. Besides, she likes the looking after you and making sure you don't accidentally walk off a cliff. Makes her feel wanted and needed.

☆ 𝐑𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐥 - Rachel is very smart, the golden child to her parents, great at everything. And most that don't know you would say that you're good at looking good.

When you guys became friends it was pretty obvious to her that you weren't super bright but you were super sweet to her. Always her main hype-person even when you barely knew each other. You were everyone's main hype-person. So you guys of course became friends and came over each others houses literally everyday.

Her parents aren't the biggest fan of you since their very traditional and modest but you could give a shit honestly. You barely notice but Rachel does. You're so sweet to them but they're not the nicest to you and once you realize it you just laugh it off just everyone else that does that to you.

But Rachel loves you, and definetely is your tutor when doing homework together. But you love her cause she's so sweet to you. And you love to do her nails and makeup. Cuddling is a must, mostly because of how adorable you are. Rachel never fails to get you all blushy but you're the one person that can get her to that same state.

☆ 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚 - Before you guys were best friends, Victoria was lowkey passive aggressive as hell to you. Lowkey was mean to you and you just were very dumb to it and didn't care. You were a saint let me tell you. Fast forward you're dating! Surprise!... To absolutely no one!

She's down bad for you and how outright blunt you can be. You have zero filter when it comes to a lot of things and are absolutely oblivious to many, many things. You try and that's what counts.

You make her blush a lot, again, you have zero filter. So you get this girl bright red and blushy. Especially when you're drunk, you're the sweetest yet dirtiest person around. Literally cannot handle you sometimes its so sweet.

You're her main hypeman. Always and forever. Mostly cause you just so dumbly love her. Sharing clothes is pretty normal between you both or getting ready together. You guys are the IT couple that's for sure.

When you walk the halls, you turn heads.

☆ 𝐍𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 - Like Victoria he was very passive aggressive to you. Just because of how... 'not smart' you were. It pissed him off, until he actually talked to you. You were literally mother Tereasa bitch and you literally were so sweet to him. He felt like shit. But you didn't care, because when he started being nice to you, you were on top of the world.

You're one of the only people that see the good in him, you think he's amazing. You can also calm him down and one thing about you, you never judge him because you just can't judge anybody. It's literally your number one rule, you're a doll, but not the brightest but he doesn't mind.

You needing him to help you with things really validates him. Like that is what makes him happy is helping you and supporting you especially because half the time you don't know what the hell is happening.

He's very protective over you because of that though, the slight braindead nature you've got going on makes him nervous. Nate will not let anyone look at you wrong, and if anyone calls you dumb that it isn't prepare for the world to end.

Would buy the entire world for you to see that giggly little smile on your face that you get when you see him.

I LOVE NATHAN WITH A BIMBO GIRLFRIEND

☆ 𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐞 - You look completely different from her, and she honestly thought you were gonna be another popular mean person. You took Kate through a loop and around the corner because you were literally calling her every nice name in the book.

You just started hyping her up and the poor girl got so flustered and somehow you guys are dating now. You will beat anybody up that even comes close to her with mean intentions. Literally, will kill anybody in radius of her because you love her so much.

With the no filter thing, that really gets her. You will say anything to her and don't even bother with how it sounds. Mostly because it just comes out, and besides that shy face makes you giggle.

Will help you out, especially with work and things of that sort. You try, you really do, but she's your tutor and she's so patient with how dumb you can be sometimes.

You're so confident and bubbly it honestly really surprises Kate how much you like hanging around her. But you don't care, you love her.

A/n: Nate with a bimbo... my new favs