#FOR LEGAL REASONS I WOULD LIKE TO SAY THAT THE SECOND PART IS A JOKE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

envy-of-the-apple · 10 months ago

Text

Sun Eats Moon

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Word count: 9.1k

Part two: Earth Kills Moon

Part three: Moon Starves Sun

Synopsis: Your boss takes on Gojo Satoru as his newest client. Much to your relief, he doesn't seem to recognize you.

(Warnings: noncon, dubcon, rough sex, oral sex, bullying, harassment, one mention of choking, penetrative sex, afab!reader, coercion, forced relationships, implied baby trapping attempt, hint of pregnancy kink)

You wanted to quit the second you read the name.

You should have. It would have been so easy to hand in your two weeks, tell your boss that you just couldn't. Or maybe you could have convinced one of the other paralegals to take your place.

It's pathetic. Almost a decade had passed and you still felt yourself slink into the girl you once were, rolling under his thumb, utterly helpless. You should be better than that. You worked so hard to reach where you are now.

You were different now, you told yourself over and over again. You were older, smarter. Besides, it'd been a decade, would he even remember you?

It's Higuruma who notices your restless fingers. You shouldn't have underestimated him, despite how exhausted he looks, nothing goes past your boss. He asks about it when you two are seated in a beige room, waiting for the client.

"Is everything alright?"

You're still staring out the window. How high were you? 16 stories, maybe even higher. Resentment, you can feel it rise up your throat, build throughout your body. Of course, he has fancy cars, pretty buildings, and limitless money. Men like him will never know what it's like to have nothing. All men were born equal. What a fucking joke.

Higuruma shifts, and you jolt out of your thoughts. "Yes," you console, "apologies, I'm just tired."

The lawyer hums, and you're not sure if he believes you or not. Before he can say anything, the frosted doors open. The rest of the legal team comes in, sitting at the long table you and Higuruma inhabited.

He comes in last. He'd always had a liking for theatrics.

Not much had changed within a decade. He was taller, bigger. He'd switched out of his high school uniform, opting for something more business-friendly. He still made heads turn. Became the center of attention.

It's his smile that throws you. Sincere, real. Lingering on his face like extravagant jewelry. Hard not to notice.

You react better than you anticipated. You don't shake or tremble or cry when he passes you. You just squeeze your fists, bunching your skirt in your palm. It helps.

He sits down, right at the end, so everyone can see him. One foot elegantly crossed over the other. When he tilts his head, his soft white hair threatens to shift over brilliant blue eyes.

"Well, I'm sure you don't need me to explain why we're all here." A few chuckles resonate from the small group. "Let's just do our best and hope nothing gets too out of hand."

His eyes slide over to meet yours, and you steel yourself for his eyes to widen. For something wicked and cruel and nasty to sink into his face.

Nothing.

Gojo Satoru maintains that same smile. The blaring sun. Painfully innocent. His gaze lasts barely a second before moving to the next face, and the next, and the next.

"I look forward to working with all of you."

𖤓

If you could describe Gojo Satoru in one word, it would be: celestial.

He's like a shining star. Brighter than the sun. Everywhere he went, he was bound to attract attention. Much like how the Earth is drawn towards the sun, people are drawn towards Gojo Satoru. It's the natural order.

But, if an insignificant planet resists the Sun's gravitational force, it'll get crushed. You learned this the hard way.

Gojo had always been in your class for years. The third year was no different. Despite the commonality, you two never talked to each other. You had no reason to. Until the vending machine gave you two cartons, and you suddenly remembered from an overheard conversation that Gojo liked chocolate milk too.

"Want it?" You hold it out to him during lunch break. He was in the middle of a boisterous conversation with his friend. They did intimidate you, but you had no reason to be scared. It's not like they were bullies.

Gojo's sunglasses dip down. He eyes what you're holding in your hand, before his gaze drifts back up to you.

"The machine gave me extra," you supply, "do you want it?"

"Oh, sure," he says after a moment. Your hands brush. "Thanks."

You nod, and then you walk back to the cafeteria. It was meaningless. A favor between acquaintances. He was helping you more than you helped him. You didn't want to carry chocolate milk around in your backpack. You forgot about the interaction within a few hours.

𖤓

The meeting ends hours later. When you stumble home, it's barely evening but you can still feel the stress creeping through your legs and arms.

You go straight to your laptop. Fumbling through the keyboard, desperate, searching.

He's famous. Of course, he is. In his mid-twenties, but already a multi-millionaire. The head of an extremely elite family. Your eyes scan picture after picture after picture. Photos of him drinking with models in skimpy bikinis. Fancy cars. Huge houses. Private jets. Gojo Satoru: the man behind Gojo Co., Gojo Satoru and supermodel Menza hinted at relationship, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru, Gojo Satoru.

You pull away when it starts to burn, when the rage and sorrow become too much. He has everything. Everything he could want. He made you go through hell for months, and yet he never got punished for it. The universe rewards him with lavishness you'd never be able to touch.

It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fucking fair.

Through your blinds, the sun happily shines.

𖤓

You don't notice it until it becomes painfully unbearing.

Gojo calls you by your name now (until that day you bet he didn't even know you existed). He's like a ghost, constantly appearing out of nowhere to sling an arm around your shoulder, eager to chase off any of your friends to talk to you about things that don't matter.

He constantly offers to walk you home (and then Gojo ignores your refusals and does it anyway). It stays like that for a few days, never bordering beyond friendliness. You think he's harmless. Maybe he just hasn't had someone genuinely do a nice favor for him. Besides, you're flattered by the attention. Even you can be swayed by the pull of Gojo Satoru. It feels nice to be wanted.

You reason it'll just be for another week. A week later, you two will be nothing but acquaintances, sometimes exchanging quick smiles during class.

It doesn't truly dawn on you as to what he's doing until he comes out and says it.

"What?" Because you must have misheard him.

"We should," he says, not even bothering to repeat himself, "I mean, we're practically dating already. Let's just make it official."

You stare at him. As always, he's utterly beautiful. The light of the setting sun makes his skin glow gold. Whenever he's walking you home is one of the rare times he removes those sunglasses. His eyes are like jewels, pretty things that you wish were yours.

You laugh. It's high and panicky because you still think he's joking. He doesn't laugh with you. You stop.

"Oh-oh, I'm sorry Gojo-I wasn't-I didn't think. I'm just not...interested in dating anyone right now. It's not you! I think-I think you're great, but it's just the wrong time, and school is getting so much busier and-" you keep rambling, coming up with excuse after excuse because you're convinced Gojo would cut you off with an awkward laugh, tell you it's fine.

He doesn't do either, letting your flounderings get more and more pathetic. His smile had dropped. You can't read his expression anymore.

Eventually, you grow quiet, standing with him in that silence. When that gets too much, you timidly tell him to have a goodnight and walk home. He doesn't follow, staying rooted to the sidewalk where you left him. You're not running away, you tell yourself over and over again. And yet, you can't help but feel relief as soon as you can't feel his eyes.

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.

𖤓

It was something minuscule.

Barely considered legal work. The case would most likely be finished in a couple of weeks. The defendant had nothing on Gojo Satoru, at least from what you and the other paralegals could see. You highly doubted it would even go to court. Higuruma always had a knack for bringing anyone to the table. Gojo would be let off from whatever he did without a hitch. No punishment. Just like always.

"Word of advice, don't think about what happens in the private sector," Higuruma says, over whiskey.

The firm was celebrating another victory at a fancy bar. You were still stewing over the face of that young woman's face when the judge ruled in your client's favor. She looked heartbroken. You can still remember the sleazy smile your client had given her.

"It's a job," he says, "do it. Boost your resume, and get out."

He takes another dainty sip of his glass. Tonight, the circles underneath his eyes seem even darker. "You're a young kid. Do something else with your life."

When he offers to buy you a round, you accept. You think about that night sometimes, and you wonder if Higuruma wished someone else would have given him that advice when he was younger.

Do the job, and get out. Easier said than done. Especially when the job involved Gojo Satoru.

Associating with him was dangerous, you knew that firsthand, especially when he was interested in something you had. You'd left, but that wouldn't save you. The space of decades would not help.

Burn Gojo once, he won't forgive you. Burn Gojo twice? You don't think there's anyone alive who did that.

Over the coming days, you expect something from him. It's a nagging feeling in your stomach. The delayed response to a gunshot. Dread. You expect him to snap. Push. Break.

He never does. Gojo remains pliant, the same to you as he remains to your boss. There's no additional touching, no disgusting nicknames, no scathing looks. Nothing.

You don't get the confirmation until a week later, when Gojo stops you near the elevator.

"Higuruma's...assistant, right? Sorry, never got your name," he says, and you steel yourself because the two of you are alone and here it comes but if you yell loudly enough maybe-

"He asked for some paperwork, and I finally found it for him." Gojo hands you a stack of sheets with a cheery smile. "You won't mind giving that to him, will ya? Thanks!"

Just as quickly as he arrives, he leaves, shoes clicking down the hall as he goes. You can only stare at his rescinding back, the palpable feeling of relief nearly making your knees buckle.

The best news you could have possibly received. Gojo Satoru had completely forgotten about you.

When you got home later that evening, the rain was heavy, and the sun was nowhere to be seen.

𖤓

You don't have proof it was him.

It's unjust to accuse people of things they didn't do. You lack any evidence. It could have easily started by itself. You'd always been meek and timid. People were bound to take advantage of that.

But the timing was just too perfect for it to not be caused by him.

In the weeks following the incident with Gojo, school went from tolerant to hell. It started small, at first. Tiny. Unoticable. Insignificant. Some people (Gojo's lackeys, you'd later realize), would nudge you as they passed you by the halls. They apologized, mid-laugh, and in the beginning, you truly thought they were sincere. Then, the nudges turned into pushes, then shoves. That's when you knew you had a target on your back.

At first, you found it kind of hard to believe. Bullying? It sounded so childish. Something reserved for petty middle schoolers. You were in your final year of high school. You were already an adult. You laughed it off, for a bit. Mostly because it was so ridiculous. Only when it starts becoming more severe, more apparent that you were his target, do you start taking things more seriously.

There was no proof, but everyone knew it was Gojo. And being on Gojo's bad side wasn't something people were willing to risk. One by one, your friends started to disappear, reducing their involvement by sending strained smiles during passing period. The more stubborn ones who were more adamant about staying by your side were chased away too. They'd skip school for a few days, before coming back and completely ignoring you.

Teachers and staff were no help either. Why would they? Gojo's family held them in the palm of their hand. The most your homeroom teacher would do was avert his eyes whenever something was thrown at you for the third time in class, and quietly remind students to settle down.

You fell on the ground with an embarrassing thump. A chorus of laughter, and a mocking 'sorry' is all you hear from the crowd. Other students step over your scattered papers, giving you looks of sympathy but never bothering to help. You'd call them cowards, but you know you'd do the same.

Instead, you focus on collecting your papers. You avoid the lump in your throat. The tears that threaten to break over your waterline. It's humiliating, being stuck on the floor like this. It's only Wednesday, but you already feel like breaking.

Hands, scarred, move past you, collecting the rest of the sheets. His face is carefully blank as Geto Suguru neatly tucks his share all in one piece before handing it to you. You give your thanks. He ignores it.

“Are you hurt?” Geto asks, his voice barely loud enough to hear.

You think you scrapped your knee during the fall, but other than your pride, you're fine. You shake your head. Geto sighs. It's not out of relief.

“That's good,” he says anyway.

You found it ironic that Gojo's best friend is the only one who bothers to help you these days. It makes sense, in a way. It's not like he'll send his goons to Geto, instead. In this solar system, Geto Suguru is the only person unaffected by Gojo's solar flares.

You work in relative silence, collecting the mess that fell out of your bag. Geto hands you the last of the supplies, idly watching as you tuck them away.

“Take my advice,” he says just before he leaves, “give in.”

He stands up. Geto Suguru has always been taller than you, but now the difference feels even worse. When he looks down at you, a flicker of pity lingers in his eyes. It's gone before it can mean anything.

“It'll only get worse from here if you don't.”

Worse, he had said. God, what could be worse? You were already at rock bottom. All you have left is your dignity. Something you intend on gritting your teeth to keep.

You quickly learned something about Geto Suguru: he knew his best friend.

Friday. The end of the worst week of your life has finally arrived. The week after is break, and then maybe Gojo will move onto some other hyperfixation, and finally leave you alone.

Classes were out. You were done, free to run home and cry the entire week away. And then, you noticed, your locker was open.

Smashed in, was a better term. Completely, irrevocably, destroyed. It looked like someone had taken a wooden bat to repeatedly smash in the metal until it cracked open like an egg.

You don't want to look, but you have to. The busted door is barely hanging on its hinges when you push it open.

It's worse than anything you could think of.

Your books, textbooks, journals, are all torn apart and written on. All the contents of your bag have been thrown around. Your assignments, your notes, your pens and pencils. But it's your laptop that makes your throat stop. Smashed, broken without any hope of being salvageable. Your everything was in there. Why why why would he do this to you?

This wasn't bullying.

This was abuse.

Fuck pride. Fuck dignity.

You were so tired.

Despite the hell his lackeys put you through. Gojo Satoru himself never bothered you. In fact, you hadn't seen him all week. He doesn't make himself impossible to find. You know where his group hangs out after school. You're barely holding yourself together when you hear his voice. His pretty laugh. You don't care about how you look, close to breaking, your voice high-pitched and shaky.

"Why?"

Your voice catches his attention. He falls into silence, just like the rest of the group. Gojo surveys you for a moment. There's a scoff, a hint of amusement before he waves off the rest of the group.

"Get lost."

They comply, dispersing in multiple directions. For the first time, in a long while, you and Gojo are left alone. You and Gojo are left, alone.

"Well?" he tilts his head, completely bored.

"What do I have to do?" You ask desperately, "What-what do I have to do to make this all stop? Please I'll-I'll do anything, just-just make it-"

It's all too much. You can't hold your sobs in, bursting into tears as you fumble through your words. He tuts in mock pity. You flinch when you feel his hand against your cheek, but he doesn't let you shy away.

"Anything?" He asks when your sobs simmer into hushed whimpers, "Really? Anything?"

You blink, looking up at him with rough teary eyes. He's grinning, wide and manic. Your heart drops when he lowers himself to whisper in your ear.

"Anything, right?"

You nod once. He sighs in pure delight. His breath tickles your cheek.

"Get on your knees."

You jerk back, but Gojo doesn't let you go far, a hand on your shoulder, keeping you rooted on the spot. At your look of pure panic, he only laughs a little.

"I-I-Gojo you-"

"And call me Satoru now. Since we're gonna get to know each other a lot better," he interrupts with a chiding grin, ignoring your wide eyes. "What? I thought you said anything, right?"

He's asking, but it's clear you don't get a choice anymore. His grip on your shoulder is tight, close to crushing skin and bone. You're trapped. No, you were trapped the moment you talked to Gojo Satoru.

To think this all started because of two cartons of chocolate milk.

You relent when his grip gets too painful, sinking down to your knees. The grass is cool, and you know it will leave damp spots on your skirt, letting everyone know what you did for him.

"Good girl," he coos, and you shudder at his hand petting your hair. Like you're some precious pet. To him, maybe you are. How could anyone think of treating a human like this? You should be grateful he does it for you, instead of demanding you to pull him out. Still, the jiggle of his belt makes you wince. You turn away, not being able to bring yourself to look. Only when the tip of his cock reaches your peripheral, do you look back. It's big. You should have expected it, considering his height. It's already leaking, a bead of precum that makes you shudder. He moves forward and you instinctively grip his thigh.

"Gojo I-"

"Nuh-uh. Satoru," he ununciates, "Satoru. You gotta' start listening to me baby, or else we're gonna have problems."

You look down at the grass. Green, soft.

"Satoru."

His eyes flash in satisfaction.

"Open up, pretty girl."

The last of your fight disappears, sinks into the soft grass. You swallow, once, before you take him. It's a slow, torturous process. He's too big, your jaw is already starting to ache. Satoru barely notices your discomfort, sighing in contentment when you start to gag on his cock, reaching down to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear.

You make a muffled gurgle and he tilts his head down. His sunglasses fall forward, two pretty eyes stare at you.

"What? Don't act like this is your first time-" he stops himself, mid-thought.

"Wait...this can't be your first time, right?"

If you weren't humiliated enough. You can't even lie, averting your eyes to avoid any further shame.

"Poor baby," Satoru says, all too delighted, "lemme' walk you through it. Gotta' suck on it, just like a lollipop-that's it-use your tongue," he encourages, still gripping his cock in his hand, like he was feeding it to you.

You can feel your mouth open wider. Tears stream down your face, not just from your pride, but also from pain. Satoru lets you take him in like this for a few more moments, just enjoying your warm mouth.

"There we go," he breathes, "take-fuck-take all of me."

But Satoru isn't known for his patience. You've barely taken all of him in yet before he grabs your hair to fuck your throat properly. You choke, sputtering all over his cock. He barely pays you any mind, his head thrown back as he rams himself down your mouth without a care in the world.

"Y'know, our first time together could-could have been nicer," he says through gritted teeth, the heat was starting to get to him, "but you just had to go and mess it up, huh?"

If you were stronger. If you were braver. You would have rejected it. Screamed. Fought. At the very least, you would have denied his delusions. But you weren't strong. You weren't brave. You were weak. Stupid. This was all your fault. Had you just given in the moment he asked, this wouldn't be happening to you. Or maybe, he'd be a bit nicer about it.

He hisses, gripping the back of your head before something warm and disgusting fills your mouth. Above you, Satoru lets out a shameless groan, a mix of your name as well as a curse. He releases you then, finally letting you sink to the floor. You fall forward, resting on your hands and knees, panting, trying to regain your breath, some semblance of sanity. You can still taste him. It's salty, a sickly tang. You spit as much as you can on the grass. It doesn't help.

He kneels, getting down to your level. With the way he's silently watching you, you know he's waiting for the right answer this time.

Don't resist the Sun. It'll crush you.

So, you drop your gaze down. You take in a deep long stilted breath.

"Yes, Satoru," you say, voice quiet, pliant, "I'll go out with you."

His demeanor drops in just a second. He smiles, painfully innocent, like you hadn't spent the last few moments choking on his cock. He cups your face with both hands and you wonder how he could look at you like that, gently, as though you weren't covered in tears and his cum.

(You still feel it drip down your mouth. Tonight, when he finally lets you go home you'll cry for hours in the shower, hoping the water will wash away all the shame you feel. It won't.)

"Finally!" He exclaims, laughing, light, happy, elated, "I'm so glad you finally came around. I was starting to think I was ugly or something."

You stay like that for a while. Underneath him. You let his hands run up and down your body, like he's feeling the space that makes up you. Soon, you'd realize Gojo Satoru liked to touch things that were beneath him. A thought muddles it's way through your numb brain. You bring yourself to look at him.

"Satoru?" you ask. He sighs in satisfaction, stroking your hair.

"My laptop...it's broken."

You didn't know what else to say. It sounded accusatory, even to your ears. Righteous. You wondered if he heard it too, if he'd do something about it.

Satoru only scoffs.

“that old thing?” You flinch. It was a gift from your aunt, you highly doubted he cared enough about the sentimental. He hugs you closer, almost like a snake, constricting you within its scales before it devours you.

(You think the worst part is that he didn't even deny it.)

“I'll just get you a new one, baby.”

He walks you home later that evening. When he demands a kiss, you comply, numbly pressing your aching lips to his.

The sunset is pretty today.

𖤓

It's not a particularly hard case, but Gojo has a knack for keeping those who work for him busy. Higuruma had asked you to stay behind, once again. The two of you were stuck alone in the office building, a room that Gojo had graciously supplied.

You were milling through a stack of papers when someone new walked in. You didn't recognize her. She was tall, pretty, sparkling jewelry littered her neck and wrists. Your eyes drifted up and down her outfit, something that definitely wasn't business-appropriate. A part of you wants to ask where she got that lipgloss from.

"Oh," she tilts her head, surveying the two of you with pretty eyes, "is Sato not here?"

You inwardly cringe at the nickname, but choose not to show it. Higuruma is the one who saves you, in the end. He speaks on both of your behalf.

"Mr. Gojo isn't here at the moment," he says, "feel free to wait."

She does as she's told, plopping down on a seat right next to her. Higuruma goes back to ignoring her, dutiful in everything like he always is. You, on the other hand, don't like the way some of the other associates eye her legs. When you wordlessly hand her your jacket, she gratefully accepts.

"Thanks. I love your bag, by the way," she cheerily says and a part of you feels bad for her.

Minutes pass. She crosses her legs and then uncrosses them. When she crosses them again, you have to look up from your paperwork and ask if she's feeling alright.

"Just nervous," she admits, "I-I haven't seen Sato since our...last meeting."

Everyone in the vicinity knows this wasn't a casual business meeting, you don't get why she's avoiding the elephant like that. Probably to save face. It's clear from her behavior that she wasn't expecting so many visitors, so perhaps this situation is new for her. You found it strange that a booty call would be called up to an office building, especially when people were clearly watching, but you doubted Mr. Gojo cared about that. He was always shameless in that regard, uncaring about anyone's reputation, even his own. That's why he's in this legal mess in the first place. Besides, you were part of Gojo's Satoru's legal team. Part of your job is to be discreet about his extracurricular affairs.

Gojo Satoru hadn't changed at all since high school. Why would he? His personality has gotten him this far, after all. The Sun would never change, it's a constant sphere of fire. You wouldn't want him to change. You were banking on his stagnant nature to slip by. You couldn't imagine if he did change, improve himself, and realize how horrible he'd been to you. How would you be able to keep yourself together if he pulled you aside one day and tried to apologize? You'd break. Things are better the way they are now. Let Gojo Satoru indulge himself in all this lavishness, forgetting about the people he's tortured. It's better this way.

You glance over at the girl. She's young, maybe a couple of years younger than you. You can see the flush on her cheeks. The clear swooning. A part of you wonders what she'd think about that man if you ever told her what he did to you. What a monster he is-

"There you are!" Mr. Gojo strides in, just as silent as always, making himself known when he wants to.

The girl jumps up, her eyes lighting up in pure excitement as she practically drags herself into Mr. Gojo's arms. He places an arm on the small of her back, scarily close to touching somewhere inappropriate as she chatters away. They disappear off to wherever rich men like him go.

It's so quick. You must have imagined it because, for a second, you were sure he'd glanced back at you.

𖤓

By now, everyone knows you're Satoru's. That means, like him, you're untouchable.

You're not celestial. If Satoru was a star, then you were a stray meteor he'd found hurtling through space, and he couldn't resist forcing it to revolve around him. In exchange for suffering through his solar flares and radiation, he protects you from bigger planets that are all too eager to smash into you. The one relief is that no one seems to bother you anymore. You haven't been shoved around, pushed, or prodded. Sometimes, you receive glares from Satoru's old ex's, but it's more tolerable than burnt homework.

Satoru has officially chased away all your friends, but he's more than happy to keep you company. You sit next to him in lunch now, quietly listening as he prattles on to the rest of his friends (you recognize some of them, the ones who messed with you, they never seem to hold your gaze for long). You used to study on campus alone, right after school let out. Now, you still do it, but with Satoru watching. It's hard to concentrate with his wandering fingers and wet lips.

He takes all of your firsts. You don't give them to him, much less, he demanded it of you. The first time he fully takes you is far less romantic than you'd ever hoped. It was on his bed after he'd practically dragged you over to his house that night. You went home the next day covered in marks that took nearly a week to heal. A little while after that, Geto came to talk to you again. For the second time ever.

"Here." He offers you a packet. Pills. You're confused for a moment until you realize Satoru didn't wear a condom.

"Thank-"

"Don't," he cuts you off, "Don't thank me."

He says it with so much hate that you think it's directed at you. It isn't until years later that you realize the disgust was towards himself.

There are theories that the Moon once had color.

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The sun didn't help. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.

When the moon was out, you often stared at it, reveling in its beauty. Now, trapped in between Satoru's arms, you find its skeleton a bit too haunting to look at.

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.

Graduation is coming up soon. You already had your college picked out, far far away from this backward town. From his conversations, Satoru was planning on going to some high-end college in Tokyo. With the way he kept looking back at you, you had a feeling he was planning on dragging you there too.

You were intelligent enough to keep your mouth shut about your plans. Satoru never asked, so you guessed he assumed you would let him bully you into whatever he wanted. He was right, so far. It's not like you'd ever argued with him.

Your parents were the only people who knew about your plan. They were excited, albeit for the wrong reasons.

"I'm so glad to see you're this interested in higher education," your mother beamed, "why the sudden change?"

You look at your mother's face. People have told you that you share the same smile. You wonder if she'd keep smiling if you ever told her about what Satoru's been doing to you, the bullying, the harassment.

You can't. You won't, because you can't bear to see her give you the same pitiful look your classmates give-the one Geto gives. You don't want her to see you as something broken.

"I'm just starting to think I might go into law," you finally say, "definitely need college for that."

On Thursdays, you have to sit inside the gym during Satoru's basketball practice. You wait on the bleachers, reviewing notes, and listening to the squeaking of sneakers. Satoru's good at the sport. You know last year they won a few tournaments. Whenever he scores a point, he gives a cheer, turning back to see if you saw it too. In those moments, you remember he's just a kid. He's your age. You can feel the envy. There, but too insignificant to do anything. He pleasantly lives his childhood, even after he stole yours.

Practice ends, always a little later than it's officially supposed to. Coach gives the final whistle and then Satoru is jogging back to you. Your things are already neatly packed into your bag. His breath is barely ragged, you can smell the hint of sweat as he kisses you on the lips. You can feel eyes on you, same as always. It's getting easier to ignore the gawking. After all, you're Satoru's now.

"Miss me?" he asks when he pulls away. He grabs your stuff before you can, hauling your backpack away. To others, it may look like he's being a sweet boyfriend. To you, it's another leash, tugging you to where he wants to go. You're not sure how Satoru sees the action.

You clamber out of the bleachers, following him without a word. Usually, Satoru would walk you home. You'd share a kiss with him on the front porch. And for the rest of the day, he'd finally leave you alone.

He grabs your hand, shooting you a wink when you lightly jostle into his body. Instead of heading out the door, Satoru turns his gaze towards the empty locker rooms. The light's automated. It flickers an unsettling white, casting a sick glow along the tiles. You are barely through the door before Satoru's pinning you against the lockers, kissing you as aggressively as he can.

Your hands immediately find their way to his shoulders, squeezing. It's not enough to hurt him, but it grabs his attention anyway. He lets up a little, relaxing into your touch.

"Sorry, baby," he says not sounding apologetic at all, "just be good f'me, okay? Need you."

He's pent up, you realize and you look at the door. School's out. The campus is nearly empty. But people are still around. And the door he just shoved you through doesn't have a lock-

Oh, wait. Would it even matter if someone came in and saw you? Everyone knew you were Satoru's.

Three more weeks. Just three more weeks.

He's trailing down, dropping to his knees. He flips up your skirt, pushing aside your panties, and attaches his hot mouth to your pussy. He's ravenous, today. Sucking on your clit like he can't bear to do anything else. You gasp, immediately assaulted by the shocks of pleasure running up and down your back.

You press against the wall, arching your back, giving him even more to suck on. He hums in approval, his voice getting lost in your wet folds. You're practically dripping now, and Satoru, with all his debauchery, gladly licks it all up as you writhe and whimper above him. Your thighs grow tighter around him, threatening to crush his skull if both his hands weren't carved into the fat of your thighs, squeezing.

Your initial panic is washed away, crumbled by his insistent tongue and fingers. You whimper out his name again as his tongue circles your clit and two fingers continue to move in and out of your sopping pussy. You're crying now, tears of pleasure and brokenness floating down your cheeks. Despite how blurry your vision is, you can see Satoru looking up at you.

"Getting close?" he's breathless, but there's still a hint of playfulness in his voice, "gonna sing, pretty girl?"

He gives a particularly hard suck on your clit and you're gone. You seize, throwing your head back as your legs shake from the force of your orgasm. It's a scream, so loud and shameless. Satoru gives a groaned pant, lapping up your aftertaste, making you jolt from the overstimulation before he finally gets to his feet. You watch as he haphazardly wipes the remnants of you with his sleeve before he's kissing you again.

"Always so sweet f'me," he purrs, biting at your lips before he fumbles with his belt. His cock is already red and strained. He pants, head shifting to fall at the crook of your neck as he lines himself up and sinks into you with one full thrust.

You whine a mix of a sob and a hissed moan. He hushes you with a stilted breath, barely keeping himself together as he pumps himself into you. Both of you are sweating now. You can feel the beads draw down your neck. He licks at your clavicle, biting when he starts to get more aggressive. When it's too less, he hikes your thigh over his waist, keeping it there so he can go even deeper.

"Fuck, I'm crazy for you," he slurs against your skin. You can barely pay attention to his words, barely keeping your own voice in check, "’would do anything for you, pretty girl."

He raises his head, looking you in the eye. His sunglasses have been tossed on the floor. You can his beautiful eyes, two cosmic galaxies of blue. You could stare at them for hours, discovering each variant of cerulean, naming each one. You bet each day you look, you'll find another shade. They're so pretty.

You wonder how pretty those eyes would look floating in a jar.

"'Toru-!" you gasp when Satoru rocks himself into again, even faster. The name you accidentally gave him when you're too fucked out to comprehend language makes him laugh in pure delight, his smile uncontrolled, delirious.

"Right here, baby," he moans into your sweaty skin, hand reaching down to rub your clit, "your ‘Toru's right here. Just where you need him."

His fingers move under your shirt, squeezing at your tits, exploring, roughly grabbing at your chest. The sensation makes you wince. Your walls draw even tighter, choking his cock.

"Too-too much, 'Toru, p-please." He growls at your begging, burying his face in your neck again. He nips at your damp skin, you flinch.

"I gotcha' baby," he breathes, "just-just lemme-" He presses on your clit. It's all you need.

You come with a sob, your pussy squeezing, milking Satoru for all he's worth. He's not too far behind, hips stuttering before he whines in your ear. Something warm fills your cunt.

You flounder, sagging against the wall. Satoru's the only thing that keeps you upright as you fight to catch your breath. He isn't in any better shape, panting just as hard as you are. He lifts his head, pressing his damp forehead onto yours. There's a dreamy smile on his lips. A look of absolute adoration.

"I love you."

You look at him. There's nowhere else to look.

"I love you," he repeats, leaning forward to kiss the corner of your lips. His lips trail down, caressing your cheek, your jaw, your neck. It would almost feel nice, but you can only stare straight ahead. You can see the dull green lockers in the distance. You can smell the mold in the damp locker room. You can feel Satoru's cum slowly seep out of you, trailing down your thigh.

Fuck three weeks.

You needed to get out, now.

𖤓

The only reason you went is because you were told Gojo Satoru wouldn't be there.

His assistant had off-handily mentioned that he had a meeting on the other side of town. Very last minute. The building as a whole would be empty, just a skeleton crew and a couple of security guards to keep the place running. It made sense, it was 8 pm- long past any proper business hours.

Higuruma could have easily gone, but it's clear the sleepless nights have been getting to him, or the stress. His paralegal is more than qualified to act like a middleman between him and Mr.Gojo's associates. It's an easy mission. Just grab a few things, and get out.

Gojo Satoru wasn't supposed to be there.

And yet, there he was, leaning against the door, blocking you into the room.

His assistant had always been a mousey thing. Tonight, however, he'd been extra ansty, looking around the room. Babbling out excuses as to what was taking him so long. Now, when he can barely even look at you, you realize he was just a distraction.

"You're off the clock, Ijichi," Gojo finally breaks the silence, "take tomorrow off too, okay?"

His assistant quickly nods, keeping his head down to flit out the door. You can't even bring yourself to be mad at him. Gojo always had a habit of singling out the weakest, crushing them within his fist, unless they bent or broke.

The door shuts with a click.

"You know, I didn't even recognize you at first," he starts. He takes a small step forward.

You take one back. He puts his hands up.

"Okay, don't be like that," he sighs, exasperated, "It's been what, 10 years? How you've been?"

He steps around you, barely brushing against your shoulder to get to his desk. He reaches down, grabbing a wine bottle and two glasses from a cabinet, setting both down on mahogany wood.

"Wanna drink? Technically, it's against company policy to serve alcohol in the building but I won't tell if you don't." He grins. It looks bloody.

He looks so casual, the man who's haunted your nightmares, leaning against a desk in a building he owns. Your heart's beating in your chest. It's so loud. You wonder if he can hear it too.

When you don't respond, he rolls his eyes.

"Figures." He pops the cork. "You were always such a stickler for the rules."

"What do you want?" You ask, your tone weaker than you'd liked.

"What? Don't you wanna catch up? I missed you." You flinch at his words, looking away. "A paralegal, huh? Gotta' say, wasn't what I expected, but it fits you." It sounds condescending, but you don't poke the bear, opting to stay silent.

He seems to take an issue with that, regardless.

"Are you mad? If anything, I should be the one upset at how you just ran off like that. After all that time we spent together too. I didn't even get a breakup text."

His last words, send a chill up your spine. A warning. Staying here any longer would be a mistake.

You go to move.

Satoru's faster.

Your head slams against the wall. Hard. Enough to hurt. You struggle anyway, clawing at the hand that's gripping your throat, the body pinning you down. Above you (he's gotten so much taller now), Gojo tuts in disappointment.

"I tried to be nice and look where that got me. You tried to run again," he muses, like he's disappointed, "I shouldn't be surprised. You've always needed something with a bit more teeth." At his threat, his hand on your throat tightens. You freeze.

It's barely choking you, but it's enough of a warning. His other hand is playing with the end of your blouse, feeling the fabric. You can feel the tears start. They're a familiar taste. Only this time, they're twinged with bitterness.

"Don't do this," you whisper, "Don't-don't-"

"Yeah, I don't think you're in any position to make demands right now." He's grinning, but when you look into his eyes, you can see the anger. A fire that has burned for a decade. At that moment, you realized Gojo Satoru had changed. Now, he was better at hiding how he truly felt.

You should have quit the moment Higurama got him as a client.

Gojo's dragging you over to the desk, haphazardly pushing away the stuff already on it. The computer, the bottle, the wine glasses all fall to the floor with a deafening crash as he shoves you down, splaying you across the table. He follows you down, leaning to meet your lips in a frenzied kiss. It's different than all the other times he'd kissed you. He'd lost all the inexperience, more keen on making you stay put and bleed. When you try to turn your face, pushing at his chest, he only growls. A large hand grabs your chin, keeping you in place for him.

When he pulls away, there's a hint of blood on his plush lips. It's not his. He licks it up regardless.

You're full-on sobbing now; barely in sucking air as your body shudders and jolts. You don't expect comfort, least of all from him, but he's cooing, wiping away your tears.

"Missed this," he purrs, ignoring the way you weakly push at him, "'guess that was my mistake. I was expecting you to be different. Nah, you'll be the same crybaby you always were. That's how you managed to slip under my radar."

He buries his face into your hair, sighing in contentment as you shiver underneath him. His lips graze the crown of your head, a complete juxtaposition to his words.

"Scream all you want. No one's here, baby." No one's gonna save you from me.

Still, you try anyway. Your hands grip his broad shoulders, digging in your nails until he hisses.

"Fuck maybe you have changed." He rasps, fiddling with his belt. "You're bitchier now."

"Gojo-Gojo what are you-" He bites on your bare clavicle. You squeal, stilling underneath him again.

"Satoru," he insists. You slump over the desk as he takes both your hands, wrapping his leather belt around your delicate wrists. You wince when he twists it into a knot. The leather bites into your skin. The fight dissolves just as rapidly as it arrived. He hadn't even lifted a finger against you. You were just that pathetic.

"Satoru," you breathe, waving your flag of defeat. He hums, licking at the bitemark. You can feel the heat bloom on your skin. They'll be a mark tomorrow, and much like Satoru, it would go away so easily.

"There's my good girl," he groans, cold hands fiddling with the buttons on your blouse, opening it up until your bra pops out, "I know I should be more mad, but I've always had a soft spot for you. Guess things will never change, hm?"

His mouth dips down, tracing your collarbone to your breasts. He wiggles down your bra, letting your tits spill out and into his hands. He squeezes one while taking another in his mouth, swirling the bud with his tongue before devouring. His moan is barely muffled by your tits. Yours is clear, high-pitched and breathy. Satoru always had no problem being shameless. And he often dragged it out of you too.

He's mouthing something against your skin, but you're too distracted by his other hand, slinking down your waist, pushing up your pencil skirt, letting it bunch around your hips. In the moment, you chastised yourself for wearing something so easy to get rid of, but it wasn't like you were expecting for him to be here, to bring you down just like he did when you were in high school. It's not like you were expecting to fall.

Satoru feels around your pantyhose, running up and down your thigh, searching. He squeezes the sheer fabric, before he rips a hole into it. You gasp, jerking at the action.

"That's-"

"I'll buy you new ones," he says, voice muffled by your tits. The conversation feels familiar.

He bypasses your panties immediately, finding your pussy with practiced ease. You're already soaking. At this, he raises to look at you. You can't keep eye contact, timidly looking away. He laughs. It sounds sickenly affectionate.

"You're so cute." He purrs just as he leaves another mark on your chest. Your tits bounce under his attention as he pushes two fingers into your tight sopping hole. Your back curls, arching off the desk as he starts pumping his fingers in and out of you. Disgust grows within you, not at him, but at yourself, for letting yourself get this low. This desperate.

It doesn't stay for long. He's cruel like that, moving in a way that makes you forget your humanity. His fingers get even faster, digging into your cunt and curling somewhere deep inside, hitting a spot that makes you gasp. You're reduced to whimpering moans by the time he finally stops, fingers exiting your pussy with a wet noise. He brings them to his mouth, sucking on his fingers, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your taste.

"Fuckin' sweet," he moans, taking his fingers out with a sickening pop before wiping the drool on your heaving tits.

Your eyes float to the window. The moon is out, you blearily realize. It's a blood moon, a rusty red. Once every 3 months, it'll lose its heavenly glow. The innocent milky white will get shadowed by the Earth's rusty atmosphere. It'll regain its color eventually. The Sun doesn't like to be overshadowed.

Something hard and blunt slides between your legs. You're barely given a second to comprehend it before Satoru grabs you by the hips, filling you up with one thrust. You yelp, a semblance of his name on your lips, but it's shrouded by the moan you give out.

He stays like that for a bit. You should be grateful he is letting you adjust to him. His cock is sickenly familiar to your walls. Satoru's hair brushes your cheek as he leans up to whisper in your ear.

"How many?" he sounds like he's gritting his teeth, barely in control, "how many guys have you let fuck you since you ran?"

You blink, wondering if he's seriously asking, but you can hear the seriousness in his tone. Even now, he's concerned with the wrong things. He's always been petty like that.

"You," you say because there's no point in lying, "it's only ever been you."

You say it like it's a curse, because to you, Satoru had cursed you. He'd stolen something you'd never be able to enjoy, devouring it, keeping it for himself. A part of you will always hate yourself for letting him do that, just like a part of you will always be his.

Satoru deflates, as if he's relieved, easing his face into the crook of your neck, placing an almost loving kiss on your shoulder. He starts slow, slowly drawing his cock out, just until his tip is barely still in, before he pushes himself back into your hole. His pace is slow, controlled. It's different than when he was younger, more eager to get himself off more than anything. Now, it's like he's enjoying the intimacy, the feeling of your walls squeezing him. The wet noises. He's barely affected. Unlike you, writhing underneath him, close to falling apart. It's his length that gets you, forcing your pussy to stretch just to fit him. His cock hits everywhere, all at once, an endless torture of pleasure.

It takes you a while to get your brain back together, to collect the mush, and realize that Gojo isn't wearing a condom.

"S-Sato-" You try, just when he spreads your thighs apart, pushing them close to your chest so he can get deeper and kiss you at the same time. His hand slips down to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles and you feel yourself getting even closer. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught.

"Try again," Satoru huffs, "What's my name? I know you know it, pretty girl."

"'Toru," you beg because it's all you have left. Your breathless gasps make you sound even more unconvincing but you still manage to stutter out, "I'm-I'm not on anything, so-so please-"

"That's okay," he mutters, though it's clear he's half-listening, "I'll take care of you and the baby."

"No-I-I-can't-"

He drops his leisure pace in exchange of shorter, faster thrusts. His cock barely leaves your pussy, grinding in your hole as his breathing starts to get a little less controlled.

"I'll make sure it takes this time too."

Your eyes open, and you forget your panic to stare at him. You think back to the pills 18-year-old Geto had handed you. Always discreet. You'd...you'd always thought they were Satoru's idea.

He hits something inside you, right then. You implode, crashing and burning as you gush around his dick. He's not kind enough to ease you through it, ramming his cock even harder inside your battered pussy until he's hunching over you with a shudder. You can feel his cum settle deep inside your womb.

You stay like that for a few moments, not saying anything. It feels like hours before Satoru is moving again, drawing his softened cock out of your overstimulated pussy. You can feel the cum drip out of you too, spilling onto the desk, but you don't think Satoru's too mad about that. He flicks your clit a few times, watching your hips jerk and you give an exhausted whine.

He kisses your breasts. He kisses up your jaw, before finding your lips. Dazed, you find yourself kissing back in reluctant acceptance, your body aching for any semblance of gentleness.

"I love you."

You look into his eyes, and you realize he's right. Gojo Satoru loves you, and this is how a man like him loves. He meant it, all those years ago, just like how he does now.

Satoru loves like the Sun. Too bright. With enough heat to burn your soul away. It's why you ran.

"I love you," he repeats like the phrase doesn't kill you each time he says it, "so you're never leaving me."

"Not ever again."

There are theories that the Moon once had color.

It wasn't just white. It was green and blue, and red. 70 million years ago, it could have been much like the Earth. It didn't have a strong atmosphere, however. The gaseous layer was slowly stripped away. The Sun had eaten it. With no atmosphere, the unfiltered solar radiation slowly began to bleach the once colorful celestial body a dull white. Before long, the sun had created the moon to be its image. Now, the only color the moon has to offer is the sun's reflection.

If Satoru was the Sun, then perhaps, you were the Moon. Stripped of your color. Unable to create light of your own. Reflecting only what you're given.

How foolish of you to think you could ever escape his radiation.

#yandere jjk #yandere #yandere gojo satoru #dark content #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #x reader #gojo satoru #reader insert #afab reader #bullying #harassment #forced relationship #tw: dubcon #tw:noncon

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5sospenguinqueen · 8 months ago

Text

Post Tension | Charles Leclerc x McLaren! Reader

Summary: Back in the same country, Charles realises that the most important thing isn't winning; it's that he was wrong.

Warnings: Swearing, female reader, Verstappen! Reader. Tooth-rotting fluff.

This is the final part!

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by arthur_leclerc, kellypiquet and others

YourUserName something in the orange tells me we're not done

7,956 comments

User 1 excuse me, miss thing?!?!

User 2 not miss verstappen posting this on media day when charles and her were spotted in the background of each other's interviews

francisca.cgomes that silhoutte pic is serving 🔥

User 3 just me or does that bear have a ferrari hoodie on

User 4 he is not the love of your life. he is literally just a guy. hit him with your car

→ User 1 nah 'cause does anyone else think charles would run her off the track if she got ahead of him again

→ User 5 wtf that's his girlfriend? he wouldn't try and hurt her

→ User 6 he did push max in a puddle once

lilymhe @ alex_albon why don't you buy me this stuff

→ alex_albon because you don't support McLaren

→ YourUserName excuse me?!?! what is this betrayal

→ lilymhe @ YourUserName i can explain

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User 7 mum and dad putting those cheating rumours to rest

User 8 y/n a stronger woman than me because i would've keyed his car for implying i was sleeping with my teammate

→ User 9 actually it was arthur who implied that

→ User 10 don't drag baby leclerc into this. he was fighting in the trenches alongside us for his otp

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scuderiaferrari just posted

liked by pierregasly, carlossainz55 and others

scuderiaferrari P4 and P8. A strong weekend for the tifosi 💪

tagged: charles_leclerc, carlossainz55

6,459 comments

User 9 i can't decide what i want to ride more

User 10 scoring some points in azerbaijan. well done, team

charles_leclerc why are you not posting the photos of me being #1 wag

→ YourUserName because this account doesn't post papaya, liefje

→ charles_leclerc no excuse

→ lilymhe because you are not #1 wag, clearly i am the only wag for @ YourUserName

→ charles_leclerc defamation

→ YourUserName @ lilymhe you tell 'em, bby

→ alex_albon i leave you alone for two seconds and you're stealing my girlfriend again

User 11 be still my beating heart

mclaren just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, georgerussell63 and others

mclaren P3 and P5. roll on the points for team papaya (ft mclaren's #1 wag)

tagged: YourUserName

7,321 comments

mclaren we apologise for interrupting your regularly scheduled papaya posts with a splash of red but you'll never guess who this racer was looking at to make him smile like that

→ maxverstappen1 sickening

→ charles_leclerc i am honoured to be awarded such a prestigious title by team mclaren

→ landonorris does this mean i can stop pretending to like y/n now?

→ charles_ leclerc @ landonorris no

→ YourUserName @ landonorris no. you're my emotional support pookie

User 11 so proud of our papayas. they did so good this weekend

User 12 i'd let y/n hit me with her car

liked by charles_leclerc

victoriaverstappen couldn't be prouder of you! 💕

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by victoriaverstappen, kellypiquet and others

maxverstappen1 a disappointing dnf but very pleased for the less-famous verstappen 🧡

8,066 comments

redbullracing still made us proud. we'll come back stronger in france

kellypiquet well done y/n. p was cheering you on

→ YourUserName tell her i'm coming over for a pizza party soon! 🥰

YourUserName i swear he loves me really, guys

→ charles_leclerc well he threatened to run me off the track if i didn't fix things so i'd say he does

→ maxverstappen1 for legal reasons, this is a joke

→ YourUserName ah, so that's why you apologised. not because of your undying love for me

landonorris feel like that should say the more talented verstappen

liked by YourUserName, charles_leclerc

danielricciardo don't let this fool you. the man was close to tears when y/n was p1 with just one lap to go

→ danielricciardo and then cried when her tire burst

→ danielricciardo and then cried when she finished p3

→ maxverstappen1 i'll sue you for defemation

→ User13 the Grid seemed to have learned a new word this week

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YourUserName just posted

liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and others

YourUserName ik houd van je

tagged: charles_leclerc

6,124 comments

charles_lecerlc je sais

→ YourUserName never going to let me forget that one, are you

→ charles_leclerc no

→ maxverstappen1 no

→ danielricciardo no

→ landonorris no

→ arthur_leclerc no

→ pierregasly no

→ victoriaverstappen no

→ lilymhe no

YourUserName how about everybody get off my dick

→ YourUserName my only friends here are the lovely ladies thirsting over my hot boyfriend with me

→ User 14 you tell 'em, honey

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

charles_lecerlc as the people on twitter say, i would let y/n hit me with her car

8,593 comments

maxverstappen1 my eyes 🤮

→ charles_leclerc look away! i was going to block you for this

→ maxverstappen1 block me forever

YourUserName wow, not even a tag.

→ charles_leclerc everyone knows who you belong to, mon amour

→ YourUserName yeah, the guy who invented ice cream

→ landonorris @ charles_leclerc at least you know what to do if the racing thing doesn't work out

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Thank you for all the support shown on this series. I never expected such a response when I posted my silly little fic.

I've had so much fun making these. I have a few more ideas coming up but not loads so if you have any, please do request and I'll try my best to do them justice! <3

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Tag list: @mehrmonga @luvsforme @lemon-lav @missenclod @halleest @formula1mount @k4marina @evie-119 @letmeseeyougotowork @sleepybrokenmelle @eiaaasamantha @tinyhrry @janeholt3 @allywthsr @callsignwidow @raizelchrysanderoctavius @prudyhoo @valentinanappipage @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @delululeclerc @e-nonsense @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @butterfliesflyaroundmymind @bloodyymaryyy @kqliie @lifeless-firefly @woozarts @silverxxs-world @personwhoisther @eugene-emt-roe @anthonykatebridgerton @qualitygiantshoepsychic @entr4p3 @carpediem241108 @forevercaffeinated-lee @xyzstar @theendofthematerialgworl @geniusalpaca @chfiosr

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lvis44 · 4 months ago

Text

Sweet Escape - Wedding Pt. 2 // LH44

Lewis Hamilton x Y/N

Warnings: Language, Alcohol Consumption, Angst, Anxiety

Word Count: 5.4k

Summary: Paradise is supposed to be fun and relaxing... a Sweet Escape, but when unspoken feelings and jealousy rise to the surface, everything can be turned upside down in the blink of an eye.

Notes: The second part of our wedding... I was reading my doc and figured this part was solid enough to be put into the universe lol. More to come but, once again, I do not know the timeline. I hope this holds you guys enjoy and this holds you over in the meantime! *insert Lil Wayne - Sorry 4 The Wait - here*. I've said it a million times and I will say it a million more, I cannot get my brain to stay in one tense while writing so ignore it the best you can lol. I LOVE YOU GUYS!

I am not a professional writer and all of this is a work of fiction and is strictly for fun. Enjoy! xxx

Previous Sections: Prologue - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Epilogue - The Wedding Pt.1

You’re not sure how long you’ve been staring at the dark ceiling when you hear your phone start to vibrate on the side table, causing you to groan. Just because your nerves are keeping you awake doesn’t mean you want to talk to anyone. When you see his name flash across your screen your first reaction is to laugh at his insistence but quickly anxiety washes over you. Every possible thing that could be wrong flashing through your mind as you answer his call.

“Lew?” You croak out, your voice dry in your throat.

“Hey. Shit, I didn’t wake you did I? Just needed to hear your voice and this can’t possibly count as me seeing you before the wedding.” He’s quiet on the other end, probably trying not to wake Miles in the other room.

“No, can’t sleep.” You admit. You’ve thought a few times throughout the night that you should have given in and let him hold you tonight, knowing you more than likely already would have fallen asleep.

“Neither can I, my nerves are going crazy.” He sounds vulnerable and you can’t help but worry.

“Not backing out on me, are you?” You attempt to joke, even though the anxiety is real.

“What? No, baby, never.” He laughs at the absurdity of your question, making you feel that much better, “No, I’m just stressing over the whole thing. Thinking maybe we should have just run away and eloped.”

“We still can.” You giggle, knowing he’s joking but understanding the feeling.

He joins you in your laughter before falling silent. You know he’s too deep in his own thoughts so you let him settle on what he wants to say.

“I’m just worried something will go wrong like the catering will be shit or the decorations won’t be right. I don’t know, I just need it to be perfect for you. Perfect for us.” He finally shares, his voice is tired.

“Lew, the only thing that could possibly ruin tomorrow is if for some reason we legally can’t get married. Even if we end up in a courthouse, I’m ending the day as your wife. Everything else is just an excuse for us to throw a kick ass party.” You try your best to assure him.

His laugh comes through the phone before he lets out a sigh, “You’re right, nothing else matters. This is why I’m marrying you ya’ know.”

“Why? Because I would have said yes even if you proposed with a ring pop?” You tease him, your smile spreading across your face.

“Well that,” He laughs, “but also because with two sentences from you, I’ve felt calmer than I’ve felt since the second I got here to the hotel. You always manage to make everything seem okay and truth be told as long as I have you, it is.”

His words hit you deep, knowing how much he means them.

“You know you’re supposed to save the vows for later, right?” You joke, trying not to choke up, knowing if you’re too sincere with him right now you will end up in tears.

“I love you Y/N.” He says simply, aware you're trying not to get too emotional.

“I love you Lewis. You wanna stay on the phone?” It’s something you’ve done many times while he’s been away and the distance has gotten to be too much. You barely talk, just content in the sound of each other's breathing and the rustle of the others sheets.

“If you don’t mind?” He sounds nervous again, like he feels like he’s asking too much of you.

“Always. Good night Lew, I love you.” You say quietly, settling back into your bed.

“I love you baby.”

You don’t say another word, both falling asleep quickly after your chat. The comfort of each other being all you needed to truly relax.

* * *

Charlotte's soft voice ringing through the room is the first thing you hear as you try to adjust to being awake. The second you start to come into yourself, the nerves come flooding in.

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” Charlotte is laughing as you sit up in bed. Your phone is still sitting on top of the comforter next to you, the call now having ended. You can only assume Lewis is already awake and getting ready or his phone died. You can’t help but smile at the memory of your conversation last night, both of you needing a moment of solace within the other.

“What?” You ask groggily, attempting to wipe the sleep from your eyes.

“Well, to start I said Good Morning Ms. Soon to be Hamilton,” She started, her voice much too loud before realizing and quieting right down, “then I told you that hair and makeup are on their way to the venue and the car will be here in about an hour.”

You raised your eyebrows at her as she sat down on the bed.

“I know, I should have woken you up earlier but I heard you talking in here at almost three in the morning, I assume with Lewis, and I wanted you to get some sleep,” She explains softly, putting her hand up to stop you as you go to respond, “there’s a light breakfast here if you want some, but you have plenty of time to shower and grab some food. If you don’t eat now, I’ve already scheduled some food for you at the venue that you can eat while they're doing your hair before you get your makeup done.”

You let out a sigh, thankful that she has thought ahead, you go to thank her but she starts again.

“I’ve already confirmed with four different people at the venue that your dress is there, hair and makeup has a place to set up, your room is on the other side of the building from Lewis so you won’t run into him, and all of the decorations have arrived and are being set up. The only thing you have to do today is let us take care of you, know that Miles and I have everything under control, and get married!” She finishes her spiel with a smirk, knowing that everything she just covered were concerns running through your mind, always proving even further why she was your Maid of Honor.

“Thank you, you are an absolute angel.” You say as you grab her hand.

“I do have to ask, just being nosy,” She starts, laughing gently, “was it Lewis on the phone last night?”

You feel yourself blushing unnecessarily, there being no reason to be embarrassed for talking to the man you are about to marry.

“Yeah, neither of us could sleep, just needed to talk to each other for a second.” You say sheepishly.

“And that right there is why you two are getting married today baby!” She says enthusiastically, once again much louder than you would prefer for the time of day.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” You tell her as you push yourself out of bed, feeling your stomach growl, “food will be there for me?”

She laughs at your need to double check before nodding, “Yes there will, I heard that, you need some food.”

“Leave me alone.” You grumble, laughing softly to yourself too as you stumble to the bathroom.

“You’ve got an hour, let me know if you need anything.” You hear her yell as she makes her way out of your bedroom to let you shower in peace.

It feels like you’ve entered an alternate universe once you are out of the shower. You ended up taking longer than anticipated and were being rushed to get dressed before ushered downstairs and into the back of another town car. Charlotte had a small bag packed for you and said she would take care of your luggage that was still in the room after the wedding, keeping the suite for the bridal party to stay in after the event.

Your jaw almost dropped when the car finally pulled into the venue. You had been there before, a few times actually, over the last two summer breaks with Lewis, trying to finally decide. But now… now it was snowing, a winter wonderland surrounding the manor that had been deemed a castle by almost everyone around you and you couldn’t help but agree. A castle had been a dream of yours as a kid but never something you found realistic as an adult, safe to say realistic wasn’t in Lewis’ vocabulary when it came to your wedding. You had been watching Downton Abbey for the third time one night and made an offhand joke to Lewis about how you should get married at Highclere Castle, from then on he had made it his mission to find something that fit the bill. His first thought had been the castle itself but it hadn’t been an option, instead he found a place just outside of London that you had never heard of, something your wedding planner had never even seen, it was perfect. It was large and regal but still fit with both of your styles, allowing it to be decorated with a fine line of modernity and tradition.

When you pulled up to the front door it looked as though you had stepped into a movie, the snow painting the perfect backdrop despite your hesitance. You hadn’t been sure about a winter wedding but Lewis was impatient and winter was his favorite season. He had done so much of what you had dreamed of that you couldn’t help but agree, knowing it didn’t matter when or where you got married, as long as it ended with him.

Charlotte was quickly ushering you and your mother inside and out of the cold. The entrance was bustling with people moving flower arrangements, chairs, tables, everything you had asked for being set up right in front of your eyes. Charlotte was pulling you down the hallway to your left before you had a chance to even take it all in.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m rushing around but you can relax the second we get you into the bridal suite. I promise.” She was apologizing from in front of you while you tried to keep up with her brisk pace, your mom close behind you.

“Are we late?” You couldn’t help but ask, feeling nervous all over again.

“No , we’re perfectly on time, but the damn men are early and I will be damned if Lewis wins and sees you before you’re at the altar.” Her voice is serious and you can’t help but laugh out loud. It truly isn’t that big of a deal to you but the moment you mentioned it being part of the plan Charlotte and Miles made it their top priority for the day of the wedding.

“It’s really not that big of a deal.” You continue to laugh at Charlotte as she slows down once you’ve reached the doors of the suite. Secretly you wouldn’t mind a quick hello, or even just a glimpse at his beautiful face, but she was determined.

“It’s part of the plan therefore we will be sticking to it, everything will be exactly how you want it today.” Her voice is stern before she opens the door to the suite and welcomes you in.

You’re immediately welcomed by the crew you had hired to take care of everyones hair and makeup. You had spent a while choosing the perfect team and had been in touch with them frequently over the last few months and the familiar faces made you excited. Charlotte tells you to take a seat on the plush couch off to the side and makes her way over to talk with the crew, making sure everything is taken care of for you. Your mom comes to join you on the couch, mimosas in hand with a shocked look on her face, acting as if she doesn’t know where they came from. You giggle as you happily take one from her hand while someone sets food on the small table in front of you, immediately reminding you of how hungry you were back at the hotel.

“You should have something to eat, even if it’s just a nibble. You have some time before you need to start getting ready.” Your mom tells you softly, gesturing towards the spread sitting in front of you.

You nod, leaning forward to grab a pastry as you watch Charlotte in amusement, animated as ever while she gets everyone and everything organized. You take a moment to sit in silence, well as silent as it can be with people bustling about, letting yourself take it all in. You continue to eat as much as you feel you can keep down before someone is suggesting you get in your robe. When you come back from the changing room there are many more people in the room, everyone finally arrived and ready to get ready. You had decided to keep the wedding parties small on both sides. You had Charlotte as your maid of honor, your cousin who had become a sister to you over the years, and your childhood best friend. Miles was Lewis’ best man, Nicolas, and Daniel. Your mom was getting ready with you as well as Linda, Carmen and Lewis’ sisters.

As you sat in the chair watching your hair transform, joking and laughing with your stylist Javier, you took in the sight around you through the mirror. Both families and friends blending into one big happy group, laughing together and sharing mimosas. You were thrilled at the thought of everyone becoming one large family, beyond excited for the next chapter of your life.

“Ladies! I need to say something before everyone starts with their makeup,” Charlottes voice commanded the room getting everyone's attention, “thank you! Okay, I just need to start by saying Y/N, I love you so much and I am so beyond thrilled that you are marrying my second best friend,” she sends you a wink as you both laugh with Lewis not even in the room to defend his decade long friendship, “he is like a brother to me and you very quickly became my little sister. That being said, I want to stress to every one that today is supposed to be perfect and WE are going to make sure it is,” her words are firm as she gestures around the room to your bridesmaids, “these two mean the absolute world to me and after everything it took to get them to this point I will not settle for ‘okay’, we’re looking for perfection.”

“Char, it’s-” You try to stop her, feeling like she’s making far too big a deal out of your day.

“Nope, Y/N, let me say this, you deserve it.” She shushes you before continuing, “I want everyone to have an absolute blast but most importantly I NEED Y/N and Lewis to have the best day of their lives. Annoying guest? Figure it out. Issue with the rings? Find me or Miles. Trouble with your dress? Suck it up, today isn’t about us.” Her voice is that of a strict teacher as she lectures your family and friends and you can’t help but roll your eyes and laugh before the comment about the rings latches on to your brain, “Y/N, babe, I love you so much and I am so happy for you. You are marrying the best human I know, well second to you of course, and I cannot wait to see the life that you two create together, I know it will be magical. Cheers everybody!”

You barely even register the sweet words she directs at you as she finishes her speech, your body working on auto pilot to raise you mimosa for her toast. The moment she sees the look on your face she’s rushing over to you.

“Hon, what’s wrong? You look worried.”

“What’s wrong with the rings? They’re here, right? They look correct? Nothing’s broken? You said there’s a problem with the rings, what's the problem?” You rush out your new concerns, not taking a moment to think once she’s in front of you.

“What? No, no, everything’s fine. Why would there be a problem with the rings?” She asks you confused for a moment before the realization dawns on her face, “Oh sweetie that was just an example, everything is totally fine. It’s exactly like we talked about, I have your band and Miles has Lewis’, I even texted him when we got here to make sure he had it. Do you want to see yours? I have it in my bag, I can go grab it.” Her words of reassurance are rushed as she tries to calm the new anxiety fluttering through your mind.

“No, oh my god, sorry, I just…” You shake your head, wanting to laugh at yourself for becoming so panicked so quickly, “I think my brain just blacked out after I heard ‘issue with the rings’, I don’t know why I let that freak me out so much.”

“It’s okay, you have a lot going on and this is a big deal, don’t worry about it, it’s what I’m here for.” Charlotte calms you, rubbing your forearm as she squats in front of your chair.

“Alright beautiful bride! Ready to make that gorgeous face even better?” Javier’s voice comes excitedly from behind you, rubbing your shoulders as he tries to coax you to turn around so he can start on your makeup.

You take a deep breath, the reality of the day settling into the pit of your stomach, before turning around, ready to be transformed. You’ve had him do this look on you numerous times, wanting to make sure it was exactly what you wanted and you trust his skills, but still the underlying anxiety refuses to leave you. You had opted for a more natural look, similar to what you would do on the day to day but elevated, you wanted to look like yourself, like the you that Lewis fell in love with. As you sat in the chair being pampered, listening to people bustle around behind you, a billion new scary thoughts and anxieties swarmed through your head.

You know you’re making the right choice, there is no one in the universe better made for you than Lewis and no one who you could love or love you more than him. You know everything is taken care of and planned to your liking, but you didn’t place each flower or taste every dish prepared today. You know all of the most important people in your life RSVP’d yes, but you haven’t laid eyes on them today, you don’t know if they’ve arrived on time. Every single detail that has been a stress in the back of your mind for the last year has now become the only thing you can think about. You’re trying so hard to let them slip to the background, to stay in the moment, enjoy the laughter of your bridal party and the random chatter from Javier, but it doesn’t work.

Your mom is the first to notice, seeing you with a furrowed brow and your eyes shut tight as Javier steps away to grab something.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” She asks quietly, her hand resting on your shoulder, giving it a tight squeeze.

The sound of her voice almost brings you to tears and you can’t quite explain why. You look at her through the mirror, noticing the deep concern on her face.

“Everyone wants it to be so perfect, what if it isn’t? I asked everyone to travel so far and what if it lets them down. The Hamilton wedding is supposed to be THE event, what if it’s not right or something goes wrong or it isn’t what people were expecting?” You ramble so quietly you’re worried she won’t be able to hear you.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” She says through a pout, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and meeting you cheek to cheek, “not an ounce of what you just said matters, I know you’re nervous but don’t stress yourself. Today is supposed to be one of the best days of your life, not because of how fancy it is or what caterer you hired, but because you are marrying a man that will love you, protect you, and take care of you for the rest of your life. I know that it feels like it’s all about the party and the flair, but today you are taking a step for you and Lewis and that is all that matters, you are building your life with an amazing man who would move mountains for you and that is all that matters. All you have to worry about is making it to the end of the aisle, saying I Do, and kissing your husband. We’re all just lucky that we get to witness it.”

“Fuck,” you breathe out with a dry laugh, “you’re right. It’s just so much.”

“Just keep reminding yourself that that beautiful man is going to be legally yours till death do you part.” She laughs before kissing your cheek, lightening your mood as you picture his perfect face. While her words do ease your nerves a new very important thought pops into your head, a new non-negotiable.

“Charlotte.” You call out urgently, aware of your time crunch.

“I’m here, what do you need?” She asks quickly, rushing to your side like a lady in wait.

“Lewis,” You start, watching as her eyebrows shoot up in a disapproving look, “no I know, I won’t look at him or let him look at me, I just need to squeeze his hand and hear his voice, I promise.”

She still doesn’t look quite convinced as you plead with her, “Y/N, no seeing Lewis was a very hard rule from day one of wedding planning. Are you sure?”

“Char, please, figure out a way so I don’t see him, we’ll stick to the rules but he’s been there to calm me down and make sure I’m okay for every major thing in my life for a more than half a decade and I don’t know about you but I’d say this is a pretty major thing! It won’t be any worse than me talking to him last night, I swear.” You plead with her, grabbing her hands, suddenly very set on needing to at least speak to Lewis before walking down the aisle.

“Okay, okay, yes, I will make it happen, but before you get into your dress, just in case, gimme a sec.” She agrees as her face softens, seeing your desperation, realizing that she too would need Lewis for a moment before something this big. He may be your lover, your fiance, the man you are about to spend the rest of your life with, but at the core he is your best friend, the man that has been there for you since you showed up at game night years ago, your other half.

Charlotte quickly leaves the room after squeezing your hand and telling Javier he can start working again. You assume she’s headed to find Miles, or she’s gone straight to Lewis. You start to get anxious yet again that you may be causing Lewis anxiety, you should have told her to tell him that you’re fine and just being selfish, remembering the moment of fear you had last night when he had called you.

You’re not sure how long it takes her but once your makeup is finished she has returned and is requesting for you to follow her. You feel silly walking out of the suite with pinned hair and your robe on but all you can think about is talking to Lewis, eager to hear his voice as if you’ve just started dating. Charlotte ushers you down a hallway to an empty room with a door on the other side. You’re far enough away from everyone that the noise has quieted and you can subsequently feel your brain calming down, realizing just how overstimulated you’ve been for the last few hours. Charlotte guides you to the far wall of the room, next to the door frame, turning you to back up against it before gently knocking on the door. It takes only a second for the door to open, Miles’ smiling face appearing next to you.

“Well hello beauty, you look fucking incredible.” He says before leaning in to kiss your cheek.

“It’s not fair that I don’t get to see her.” You hear your fiance whine from the other side of the wall, making you giggle and your cheeks warm.

“All in due time brother, you’re the lucky one though, you get to see her at the altar.” Miles says teasingly, leaning back through the door to look at Lewis before coming back to you, “So I have your fiance here as requested. Char and I will give you guys some privacy.”

“Thank you Miles, I’m sorry if this is a pain, I just needed a minute.” You tell him, reaching out to squeeze his arm.

Before he can respond, Miles is bursting out into a laugh, “Love, this was a help on my end, mans has been so annoyed that he hasn’t been allowed to see you all day, he hasn’t shut up about you once. Enjoy, you evidently both need it.” He says as his laughter begins to die down, sending a disapproving look into the room behind you where you assume Lewis is giving him the same back. “You guys have five minutes, and absolutely no peeking.”

“We won’t.” You and Lewis both promise in unison, making both of you giggle as Charlotte and Miles walk away to another room to give you your privacy.

“I mean it!” Miles turns around to yell, still walking backwards as he points his finger at you, “ I will know just by the look on bruvs face if he caught a glimpse of you, don’t you dare.”

“We’ll be good, I promise. Thank you guys!” You yell back at him as they disappear through a nearby door.

“Hey you.” You hear Lewis’ soft voice after a moment, your heart swelling just upon hearing the recognizable timbre.

“Hi.” You squeak, forgetting everything you had wanted to say when you asked Charlotte to make this happen.

“Are you okay?” He asks you, his voice filled with concern and care.

“Yes, oh my god yes,” You start, your anxiety of concerning him coming back tenfold, “I’m so sorry, I just, I don’t know, I was getting really anxious and then I realized that I haven’t had a big moment in life without you either being right there or calling me for like more than five years and then I got worried that I wouldn’t make it through something like this without talking to you first, which is silly because I know I’m literally preparing myself to marry you, like I’m going to see you at the altar in like an hour but I don’t know, my mom said all this stuff about how amazing you are trying to calm my nerves and then I realized I absolutely had to at least talk to you and I’m sorry if you were busy, I’m not trying to be needy, you just calm me and this day is so much and there's so much going on and it has to be perfect and-” Your words are rushed, not thinking them through as you ramble to him, not stopping to even take a breath.

“Y/N,” Lewis cuts you off, his voice firm but gentle, “it’s okay, please take a breath.”

You drop your head, almost embarrassed by how calm he sounds with the emotions swirling around in your head at the moment. You listen to his request and take a deep breath, trying to calm your breathing and your mind.

“Good, now another.” He instructs you calmly as you feel his hand sneak around the door frame and brush your hip.

The moment you see his skin you reach down and grasp his hand firmly, needing him to ground you as you take yet another deep breath.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you squeeze his hand, trying to breathe like he wants you to.

“Baby, you have nothing to be sorry for,” He starts softly, squeezing your hand just as firmly, “I know this whole thing is a lot and there’s so much going on, but none of that is important. I don’t give a fuck how anything goes as long as I get to end the night married to you, that’s all that matters today,” His voice is soft as he assures you, washing over you like a warm blanket before it turns cheeky as he adds, “well I also want to see you in that dress and obviously whatever you have underneath it.”

You want to laugh and cry at the same time, amused by how easily a stupid (yet serious) comment could lift your spirits, simply because it came from him. Amazed that the same sentiment that has been spoken to you by everyone around you with no avail, could take a burden off your chest simply because they came from his mouth.

“I love you so much Lew.” You reply, squeezing his hand so hard you’re worried you’ll hurt him, trying to fight back tears as you do.

“I love you so much my sweet girl and I will tell you just how much when you meet me at the altar. You’ve changed my life, you’ve made me a better man, a better human, you’ve made me happier than I knew was even possible and I want nothing more than to marry you today. I don’t care how that happens, if you want to run away right now and head to vegas we can, at the end of the day I just want you. You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me and nothing matters besides us. This whole castle could burn down right now and as long as I still had you I truly would not care. I love you so much and today is going to be incredible no matter what happens, but I bet you nothing will go wrong because we planned it and we’re pretty amazing.” He sealed his words with a kiss to the back of your hand, chuckling as he finished. His lips on your skin gave you a whole new sense of confidence and ignited a fire in the pit of your stomach.

You wished so badly that you could see him, that you could properly kiss him, but you reminded yourself that you were close to the finish line, that he would be all yours soon.

“I love you too, so so much, thank you for this, I’m sorry if I interrupted, I just needed to hear your voice and be close to you.” You admit to him with a sigh as you lean back against the wall.

“You’re never an interruption, whenever you need me I’m here, always. Besides, Miles wasn’t lying, I’ve been going crazy since we left the rehearsal dinner wanting to see you, touch you, kiss you, talk to you, literally anything. I know we’ve gone weeks apart from each other but everything feels different right now.” He tells you, making you smile, that you're not completely alone in your desperation. You take a moment, leaning against the wall in silence as you hold his hand, letting your nerves wash away.

“Alright, love birds! Time to go get fancy and hit the altar!” Miles’ voice cuts through your moment as he hollers and claps, returning to the room.

You let out a sigh, wishing your moment with Lewis could continue but reluctantly begin to move away from the wall. Before you can get too far, he is gripping your hand and pulling you back to place a kiss on your hand before leaving a lingering kiss on your pulse point.

“I love you Y/N, just come meet me at the altar. Nothing else matters.” His words are muttered into the skin of your wrist before he finally lets you go and Charlotte is ushering you away back to your suite as Miles stands guard making sure Lewis doesn’t cheat and sneak a peek at you.

“Feeling better?” Char asks as you make your way down the hall.

“So much better, I feel perfect.” You say through a smile, meaning it wholeheartedly, “ I’M GETTING MARRIED!”

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going-to-ikea-for-the-fries · 8 months ago

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Bait and Switch. || Scammer!Reader x Victim!Ghost

Rating: M Words: 2.6K~ Pairing: scammer!Reader x victim(but not really)!Ghost CW: phone scams/conning (reader never actually cons him), financial issues?, threats (Simon threatens to find reader), degradation?. other tags: crack, OOC Simon., you/your pronouns (gn!reader but uses a female fake name), obviously fake names (pun/funny), lying, joking, the weirdest meet cute? a/n: this started out as a joke/crack and turned serious/dark at the end? idk how i did this.

Simon Riley would say that being legally dead is the best thing to have happened to him and that's because it allowed him to escape a bunch of responsibilities that regular men have to uphold.

He gets paid covertly, in full, and does not have to pay taxes on his income.

He rented a flat from a sweet ol' lady, who didn't run a background check or ask for a copy of his birth certificate (terrible choice on her part), and he pays her by dropping an envelope of cash in her mailbox on the 1st of every of the month.

He not only is old enough to drink but also sounds and looks old enough as well, which means he doesn't need I.D. to buy alcohol (not that any shops or bars really care enough to check).

He doesn't have a credit card. Or a debit card for that matter. Hell, he doesn't even have a bank account, so he doesn't have to pay maintenance fees.

He doesn't have a smartphone. And up until recently he only had a pager. In fact, the only reason he doesn't have a pager anymore is because it got shot in the crossfire during a mission... so Price forced him to get a jitterbug.

In short... Simon Riley can escape a lot of things (death, taxes, Philip Graves...). But telemarketers and phone scammers are not one of those things.

That's how, on a boring Wednesday afternoon, his new phone ends up ringing, like it had been doing multiple times a week for the last four weeks.

Telemarketers.

He never got telemarketers on his pager.

He hated telemarketers.

But that didn't mean he blocked them-

"What?" He answered as soon as he picked up the phone.

An automated voice came over the call, one of those typical Siri-esque robot voices, delivering a prepared speech: "Congratulations! You've won a free cruise to the Bahamas! To claim your prize, press 1."

Oh, now, this was different. He didn't need to hear more to know it was a scam call. But that didn't mean he was going to hang up.

So Simon pressed key 1, which caused a beep to sound over the call.

"Thank you!" The automated voice continued. "We are now connecting you to a live operator to claim your prize!"

Barely a millisecond went by before you took over the call. "Good afternoon, this is Stella Gormoni with Blissful Blessings Inc.! Who am I speaking with?"

As stereotypical as it is, Simon had expected a different voice on the other end of the line... maybe from a scammer in a foreign country who'd speak heavily-accented English...

But instead, he got a sweet and professional sounding person... It almost made him second-guess the scam that was being pulled on him.

His mind moved quick at coming up with a fake name. Not just a fake one, but a pun one too. "Wanh'a, first name Aiden." He replied, his gruff voice reverberating on the call.

"And how do you spell that?" You asked him politely, and, through your headset, he could hear your keyboard keys clacking in the background.

"That's A-I-D-E-N." He replied as he entered his kitchen, spelling his first, as if that was somehow what was causing you difficulty.

"Uh-huh!" You acknowledged in a peppy tone. "And... your surname?" You asked him.

"W-A-N-H-'-A." He continued spelling as he crossed the small kitchen, hearing your fingers tapping away at your keyboard in his ear.

For a moment, you didn't talk, as if stunned into silence. Had you just picked up on the fact he was trolling you by giving you a name that, phonetically, sounded like 'I Don't Wanna'? Probably. But you hadn't hung up yet.

"Well, congratulations, Mr. Wanh'a, you just won an all-inclusive, two-week long cruise to the Bahamas!" Your peppy tone made him bite his lip to contain a laugh. Well, at least you were dedicated in continuing the scam. "How are you feeling?"

"Very well, and yourself?" Simon asked casually as he leaned himself against the door of his refrigerator, leaning down to look inside and find a snack.

"I'm doing very well, thank you, sir." You replied in a cheerful tone. "So, let's process the information so we can get you your prize, shall we?" You announced in a polite tone.

"Go right on ahead, sweet'eart." He murmured as he grabbed a yogurt and closed the fridge with his hip, sitting at the table and peeling open the lid.

"Well, for us to start, I'm going to need your-"

"Actually, I have a question, before we start." Simon interrupted your speech, cutting off your silver-tongued lies.

You went silent for just a moment before you replied with a sweet little: "Of course, what can I help you with, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"I want to know how exactly I signed up to receive this prize." Simon replied before he placed a spoonful of yogurt in his mouth.

He was trying to accomplish two things by doing this: 1) throw you off your game and make you stammer and stutter, and 2) see how long it took for you to get annoyed, and hang up on him.

"Well, that's what I was going to explain, you see-" You replied, a smile behind your voice, but his trained ears could pick up the slight frustration. It made Simon smile.

"Oh, then, I'm sorry for interrupting you, sweet'art, please go ahead." He replied and gestured with his spoon, as if giving you the stage, unnecessarily so, because you were not there to watch it.

"As I was saying... You were entered automatically into the draw by buying a cereal box of any Kellog's cereal at Tesco. I'm sure you saw a 'Win a free cruise!' sticker on yours?" You asked in a professional and sickly-sweet tone.

He could see right through your scam, he had already done that. You name a famous brand, one people trust, to trick naive or impressionable ones into believing you...

Normal people would tell you they no longer have the cereal box, many of them naive enough to believe your scam despite the fact they hadn't even bought one of those boxes in the first place...

Next, you'd ask for the card used to make the purchase, and some people were dumb enough to read their number aloud to you...

Oh, how he hated scammers. Even more than telemarketers.

"I do remember seeing something like that..." He murmured, his voice deepening, before he popped another spoonful of yogurt past his lips, loudly smacking them right against the receiver of his jitterbug.

"Well, all I need is for you to get the box and read me the code that's imprinted on the inside of the flap!" You announced.

"Well, you see, I would, sweet'art... But my sight isn't so good anymore..." Simon replied. "I'm getting up there in age, you know?" He continued eating his yogurt.

"I understand, sir." You replied. "I'm sorry to hear that. One of my cousins also started losing his vision pretty early." You announced.

Huh.

There was no hint of forced sympathy in your voice.

No, you were being genuine. That was a real story of your life you were telling him...

But you had picked up on the fact he was trolling you, right? So why were you-

"Good thing though, about this system of ours, is that you can just confirm your credit card details so we can double check them and get you that prize!" You had, your tone right back to the scamming silver-tongue you had held until now.

Secretly, Simon had to admit that he admired your commitment to the bit. He couldn't help but smile a bit, amused.

"Oh, of course. Let me just set you down while I get my card." Simon replied and got up, finishing his yogurt and tossing out the plastic container, popping the spoon into the sink, and, after setting down his phone, he walked out of the room.

Simon glanced down at his wrist watch, noting the time on it, then, approached his bedroom door, grabbing his over-the-door pull-up bars, and began doing a quick set, leaving you to 'wait' for him in the kitchen.

After a few sets, he waltzed back into the kitchen and grabbed his phone again. "You still there, da'lin'?" He beckoned in a gruff tone.

You sighed, your politeness sounding slightly more forced. He had kept you waiting for over ten minutes after all. "Yes, sir, I am. Did you get your card, Mr. Wanh'a?"

"Oh, please, enough of this 'sir' thing, Mr. Wanh'a was my mother." He replied, then went silent for just a beat, almost like he could hear your frustration sizzling on he other end.

He was being more and more obvious with his trolling... And it pleased him immensely to imagine a parasite like you seething on the other end of the line, reaching your wits' end.

"You can just call me 'Ai', it's what my friends call me." Simon continued, a smirk forming on his lips. "And we're friends now, right? You're giving me a cruise and everythin'." He added, his tone just as charismatic and peppy as his had been.

"I guess we are!" You replied, returning the overly cheery tone. "So, 'Ai Wanh'a', then?" You asked, but he could hear the mix of frustration and amusement behind your voice.

"Yeah? What d'you want, babygirl?" Simon asked, unable to resist making a more impish remark. And, unfortunately, it had the desired result. It genuinely caused your brain to blue-screen for a moment.

Sure, you'd experienced plenty of people getting angry at you when you attempt to scam them, or even trolling you the same way this bloke was doing but...

It was definitely a first, to have someone flirt with you, even if it was still part of his trolling attempt.

"Your... credit card details?" You ended up adding, your voice still showing the surprise and light meekness that came from him catching you off-guard.

"Oh, of course. Are you ready? It's a very complex number." He replied.

"Ready when you are." You added as you steeled yourself for another smartass response or run around from him.

"Here it is: 1234-5678-9987-6543." He replied, reciting the numbers 1-9 in order and then backward. "And the three digits on the back are: 210."

Oh, he was so fucking annoying! He didn't get to troll you, even if it was pretty amusing of him to do so, then flirt with you, then go back to trolling.

"Sir, if you're not interested in the cruise, just say so. There's no need for this mockery." You replied, your tone serious and professional though you were definitely seething on the inside.

Simon could tell. And he reveled in it. "Oh, but I am interested!" He replied with a smirk behind his voice. "In fact, I want to know more. Will my cabin in the cruise have an ocean view?"

Simon heard you inhale aggressively on the other side of the line, steeling yourself not to hang up on him, or down right berating him on the phone. "Yes, Ai, of course!" He heard your fake cheeriness through your clenched teeth. "It'll be a luxury cabin, actually. Isn't that great?"

"No, it's not that great, actually. I get very seasick, you see?" Simon murmured. "Not to mention, ever since my pet goldfish died, I've just never been able to look at the ocean the same..." He added in a forced pitiful tone.

You went quiet again on the other side and Simon knew he had finally worn you out. He waited to hear the clicking sound of the call falling, but, instead, he just heard you let out a sigh.

"You're very frustrating." You murmured.

"Oh, my, is this how you speak to all your prize winners?" Simon gasped dramatically.

"Shut up... You didn't have to be a smartass, you know?!" You scolded him, as if you had any ground to stand on.

"No, I fear I did, sweet'art." Simon replied as he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. "You called me, interrupted my day, and wasted my time with a scam, of all things. I have every right to be a smartass and have some fun with it." He added, a smug tone obvious in the dulcets of his deep voice.

"Okay? You could've just hung up on me?" You were truly grasping at straws to justify your behaviour. It was comical.

Simon laughed dryly. "And waste an opportunity to annoy a parasitic leech like you?" He quipped.

That stunned you into silence for a moment and you couldn't help but pout a bit.

"Not to mention, what you're doing is illegal, you know that righ'? And I'm military, I could get you arrested for this." He added.

"For that, you'd need to know where I am." You retorted, maybe a bit bratilly. "Besides, I knew you were a soldier."

"And how did you know that?"

"You used the NATO phonetic alphabet while spelling 'your' name'." You replied directly. "Nobody spells 'Aiden' as 'Alpha-India-Delta-Echo-November'."

"So you knew I was military and you still went ahead with your little scam attempt? You're not that bright, are you?" He defied you, which earned him a scoff from your end.

"No, I already knew you were trolling me."

"Oh, so you just wanted to waste my time?"

"That's exactly it, Aiden."

"Sounds to me like you're just looking for trouble, da'lin'." He quipped, his voice having lowered to a gruffer tone.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed. "Am not. I'm just enjoying myself. You're not the only one that can make jokes at people's expenses."

"No, you really are..." He tutted his tongue and shook his head. "Need I remind you you were trying to scam me, and other people?" He added in a tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I know what I was doing."

"Yeah? And are you proud of that? Proud of being a conniving little cunt who tries to take people's hard-earned money?" He taunted you.

You didn't reply. Of course you weren't proud. You still had a conscience! But you wouldn't tell him that. He wouldn't get the satisfaction of hearing you apologise.

"I see. You don't like what I'm saying, so you give me the silent treatment, is that it, sweet'art?" He teased. You could hear the smirk behind his words.

"I wonder if you'd still act like this if you had to face me and had to answer for yourself."

Closing your fists tight, you steel yourself again to gain some edge and reply to him. "I guess you're going to keep wondering then. Because it's not happening."

"You know, it's a shame your little computer spat out my phone number for you to call..." He trailed off.

"And why's that?"

"Because instead of anyone else, you got me... And that's just... really bad luck for you. Any other service member, you would've been fine..." He trailed off.

"What, are you some sort of General-Major-Chief thing, super high up the ladder?" You taunted.

Simon simply chuckled dryly on the other side of the line. "No. But I'm definitely the worst person you could've tried to play with."

"Oh, big scary man, what are you gonna do? Gonna come teach me a lesson?" You added, taunting him some more, clearly feeling comfortable behind your laptop, with your smartphone, sitting at home, comfortable and warm, with your pet at your feet. "Oh, I'm so scared!" You added, feigning fear in a dramatic tone.

"Is that a challenge I'm hearing, sweet'art? Inviting me to come pay you a visit?" Simon asked you, his brow cocking, despite the fact you couldn't see it.

You don't know what it was about the way he spoke. The way he said that. The way his voice sounded.

It sent a shiver down your spine, a cold sweat, like he was, for the first time, not joking around anymore.

"No...?" You murmured in reply, feeling your shoulders tensing in an unpleasant way.

"Yeah... That's an invite I'm hearing..." He disregarded what you said and chuckled. "Maybe I'll come pay you a visit then, hey? How does that sound, little leech?"

#ikea writes 💚#tw phone scam #cod mw2 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #cod fanfic #masterlist #ghost x reader #phone scammer #crack fic #ddne #dead dove do not eat

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ladytauria · 5 months ago

Note

actually, I'll give you something cute

Jason and Tim gotta pretend to be a married couple in a suburb or smth, specifically thinking they adopt like a dog/or cat while there (and then keep them obv)

but yeah playing happy married couple while totally not pining after each other

this is so messy i’m sorry lmao

mutual pining is one of my absolute favorite tropes <3 & you know i love a good undercover + identity shenanigans fic

I don’t have a lot of clear, defined ideas for the set up (I find casefics so hard to conceptualize for some reason???? Sigh.) But. I have a few thoughts— first, I don’t want them going undercover together to have been the original plan. Second, I kind of want to have originally been Jason’s case? Bc I kind of want there to be an opening thread of like. Jason’s such a planner that having his plans over turned is always upsetting for him—he’s adaptable, it rarely ever affects his actual work, but he still gets grumpy about it :/ So him reaching out for Tim’s help isn’t like. A Big Deal but it isn’t Not a Deal at all, you know? Like it means something that he’s asking Tim to come in for… SO many reasons.

Alternatively I suppose it could be something they were assigned to do by Bruce or Babs or asked to do by Steph, even, ‘cause it’s someone else’s case & they need intel but also more freedom to do stuff?? I dunnoooo. ALSO thinking that maybe Tim & Jason are the obv choice for such an assignment bc Jason is still legally dead & doesn’t have much of a civilian life that anyone knows about, and Tim is no longer involved with WE or doesn’t have to do much with the company so his free time is also… very open.

I’m also torn on like. WHERE I would want them to be. In a Gotham suburb? Or outside of Gotham completely? Like, say, Metropolis? There’s something appealing about the latter bc like. They’re already undercover, posing as different people, but NOW they’re also someWHERE else so it feels even more like this is a distant dream they can never have. However, if it’s in Gotham you could have that underlying “we could have been this if life had been different.” (You can kind of get that with the former too, but.)

Also thinking that as much as I love the gendefuckery of crossdressing / going undercover as a woman, AND as much as I love the idea of genderqueer/fluid/trans Tim, I want them to be going undercover as an MM couple? (Although, now I’m thinking about a similar situation where Tim, who doesn’t oft explore the femme side of himself in depth, actually would get to… hm.) ANYWAY. But yeah for this one, they’re going undercover as husband & husband.

Tim’s undercover persona… I’m split between something with tech or working as a mechanic. (Hush.) Jason… hmm. College TA or going for a college degree, so he’s mostly the stay at home/house husband type. Or maybe one or both of them should have a career that calls for traveling a lot?? Hm.

Both of them expect themselves and/or the other to kind of struggle with it. For multiple reasons! The first being that they have feelings for the other—there’s a part of me that actually wants to make one of them (probably Tim) oblivious to their own feelings until a week or so into the charade & have a sudden realization? But also I like the idea of both of them going into it knowing that they like each other and resolving not to let it affect things. They both also expect to miss vigilante work, because while they’re able to go out occasionally it’s not like either of them are used to.

And while it’s definitely difficult to find things to occupy their time with at first… it’s not as hard as they expect.

Thinking they adopt an animal fairly early on (thinking it should be a stray they start feeding & fall in love w). I’m leaning hard on the idea of a cat but a dog could be fun too lmao. There’s a lot of joking arguments about post-case custody but then those peter off as they start letting their roles bleed over into their lives.

And then. The case ends. They get the intel they needed, bust the operation, and it’s time for Tim & Jason to quietly pack up and leave.

Thinking the last couple of days they spend as their fake identities are awkward. They can’t find the ease they had before because they know they’re about to leave, so when they’re not actively performing for their neighbors… they’re more withdrawn.

And then they both go to their separate homes. Thinking Jason got primary custody of their dog or cat? But I could be convinced for Tim as well. Anyway. Both of them feel a little hollow; like they’re missing something. They cant stop thinking about their life together, how *real* it felt & how much they miss waking up to the other. How much they miss even the idiosyncrasies they used to argue over. (Even if at least half of those idiosyncrasies were made up for the persona. They still know each other well enough to know which ones were real and which were fake… & they find themselves wondering which parts of their private lives they left out, good and bad, what living together would *really* be like.)

Eventually one of them makes an excuse to go see the other—to check in on the cat/dog, obviously. And maybe there’s an awkward invitation to keep visiting, and a sort of. Ambiguous/open ending with an obvious/hopeful slant for them to be a couple in the future.

And then maybe an epilogue / one shot sequel set a few months in the future with a look at their established life <3333

[ send me an AU & i’ll give you at least 5 things i would include in it ]

#lmao this is more than 5 again but at this point idc #also no links / not great formatting bc i’m both on mobile and in a car #so.#jaytim #tauriawritesfanfic #asks and answers #deepwithintheabyss #dcu #whole time i was writing this i kept thinking of that snippet azol shared in MWSE #and also of a jaytim fic i read a while back

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telekinetic-electronica · 7 months ago

Text

Theft King is Wrong about Indigo Park and Here's Why

Theft King is an infamous YouTuber mainly known for the Kane Carter drama and not always having the best takes. He mainly covers Five Nights at Freddy's, and recently seems to be covering a lot more of Poppy Playtime, due to chapter 3. Recently, Theft King made a video critiquing the newest indie mascot horror game, Indigo Park.

Suffice to say, it is not good. This post will be going over why it is not good, and debunking Theft King's own points.

"Indigo Park is the least original mascot horror game ever made. Between the tired, cliched premise of returning to an abandoned children's establishment, the enemy designs, the unnervingly cute, mascot character, and multiple sequences that appear to be directly lifted from Poppy Playtime. You'd just think this was another Garten of Banban-eqsue cash in. In a lot of ways, it kind of is. But it's more complicated than that."

Through your introduction to this video, it is quite obvious that you are biased. For starters, to call Indigo Park the LEAST original mascot horror game ever made is a big claim to make. Like, seriously, out of ALL the games out there, Indigo Park is? While, yes, the concept of finding out what happened to an abandoned children's establishment isn't original, it has a unique twist to it. We have Rambley to accompany us through out the park. It actually FEELS like a place that could exist in real life. It's also obvious Geese is a fan of mascot horror and got inspired from Five Nights at Freddy's and Poppy Playtime.

Also to compare Indigo Park to Garten of Banban is literally insane to me. You are comparing the dedicated, passion, and willingly to learn with Indigo with GARTEN OF BANBAN? The POSTER child of what NOT to do with mascot horror? Also, Theft King through out the entire video compares Indigo Park to Poppy Playtime, specifically chapter 3. When Indigo Park was in production BEFORE chapter 3 came out.

Before the recent Rambley plush, Indigo Park was for free and the money came of Geese's own pocket to fund this game. To say this a "cash grab" is very dismissing the hard work and passion Geese and the Indigo Park team put into the game.

"The game begins with a really slick cinematic depicting the establishment of Indigo Park. Alongside it's founder, Isaac Indigo. Isaac Indigo?! Hold on. That's not a name that humans have. This guy's definitely a space alien. I'm calling that now"

While the last part is definitely a joke on his end, there's a lot of reasons to explain why Indigo is Isaac's last name. For one, Indigo is a REAL last name. It's just uncommon. Second, there is thing called suspension of disbelief. It is when something fantastical happens that can't happen in real life, but you suspend your disbelief because it is a work of fiction. If you can suspend your disbelief to a murderous lion and parrot, I'm pretty sure you can suspend your disbelief to this old guy's name being Indigo. And third, there is such a thing called legally changing your name. Besides, why is this even here? This is just a nitpick.

"As the game begins we find the park's main gates sealed. And upon heading into the service station next door, we encounter Rambley. The single best part of Indigo Park. Rambley is an AI, raccoon mascot that serves as our guide. Appearing on countless, conveniently placed televisions through out the game. He's fantastic. His dialogue is well written, his voice actor is great and his animation is expressive and charming. He's the single best part of the game, but, Rambley is a crutch that Indigo Park leans far too heavily on. Though, we'll get there later."

While he does say he'll get to it later, I would like to still address this point right now. Rambley is a core part of the game. Rambley is the second protagonist, and is obviously going to be very important to the plot. He's going to be accompanying us through out however many chapters there are. Chapter 1, like many introductions, are we are getting to know the characters. Rambley is in a big chunk of chapter 1 is because besides, Ed, he's our secondary protagonist, and knows the in's-and-out's of the park, and knows crucial information. This will be expanded more when Theft King gets to this part. Rambley isn't a "crutch". The game is literally setting up the characters and scene. Like, y'know, how many first chapters do.

"And enter the doors to the park and enter the Critter Corner, where we're given a Fazwatch from FNAF: Security Breach. It's useless. It's just a plot device to justify why some doors don't open until they need to."

Theft King, have you ever been to an amusement park before? Many amusement parks have bands on to indicate you are someone entering, and not sneaking in. If you did an ounce of research, the Critter Cuff is a reference to Disney's Magic Bands. Do you only get your information from indie mascot horror? Do you not think stuff like this doesn't exist in real life? While, yes it can be a reason why some doors won't open. But you clearly weren't even paying attention to the own game you are playing.

(Disney Magic Band)

(Indigo Park Critter Cuff)

(FNAF Fazwatch) The Critter Cuff looks NOTHING like a Fazwatch and has difference uses. Gregory can use the Fazwatch to see the map of the Pizzaplex, get emails, communicate with Glamrock Freddy, among other things. All the Critter Cuff can do is be a pedometer, heart monitor, and mood ring. The Fazwatch and Critter Cuff doesn't even have the same functions.

The Critter Cuff also just doesn't acts like this. It's hinted the Critter Cuff can keep away the mascots. When Lloyd was about to attack Ed, it let out a frequency that made Lloyd back off. Pay attention to what's happening on the screen and story, Theft King.

"Proceeding through an awkwardly placed loading zone, we find ourselves in some sort of subway, tunnel movie theater? I don't know the area's design wasn't very coherent. Look at that Poppy Playtime ass floor. Although, something is going on with the resolution or something. I don't know."

...As he says when the ride for this area is a train. Trains are often located underground. Also, apparently, according to Theft King any colorful, floor patterns is a rip off of Poppy Playtime when the ride is a reference to Mickey and Minnie's Railway. As for the "movie posters", Theft King the ride is clearly meant to introduce the park goers to the characters and other rides to this world. Please, pay attention and think before assuming something.

"After the train ride, Rambley gives us cart blanche to go wherever we want. Though, it's at this point, I noticed the game scaling. You know, the size of everything relative to your character? It's really weird. We are very short, I have to be perfectly honest. [...] When was the last time you walked up to a kiosk, a stand and your chin was like touching the table?"

This is just a nitpick. While, yes, it can look a little jarring, but out of all of things you're critiquing is the fucking counter "being too big"? Theft King, do you have spatial awareness? The counter is at Ed's chest, not eye level. Besides, you're not even fully looking up.

Also, for some reason, he genders nail polish for some reason? Either saying it was nail polish or a bad "fingernail texture"? Which. Okay? Men can wear nail polish too, Theft King. It isn't a gendered thing.

"The next area is probably the most visually striking in the game. A large fountain square with a strange clock tower and Ferris wheel in the distance. It's pretty cool. But there's a lot of empty sky box visible and it's fairly obvious that there's absolutely nothing beyond these buildings that we can see the illusion that this is actually outside is completely broken. And as a result, this area feels more like a sound stage or movie set than an actual place. It just needed a lot more low resolution buildings and rides and stuff in the distance. Because it's obvious behind this clock tower, is just an endless void."

Theft King, once again, have you ever been to a theme park? It's the entrance to the ACTUAL park. You don't get to see everything right off the bat, it's just a taste of the actual theme park. If Geese and co. added more buildings and rides, it would look VERY cluttered and jankily put in together. It would also be way overstimulating, and ruin the atmosphere of the decayed, left-to-rot theme park with all of these lights and colors. It is a horror game, Theft King. Atmosphere, setting, and lighting are important here. It just seems like if you aren't being entertained for more than 2 seconds you're crying out it's "boring and just looks like a set piece."

Besides, do you think all of the budget is going to be spent on the buildings, just so it be can be aesthetically pleasing? A problem Theft King (and the majority of the indie mascot horror critics I see) really need to stop expecting brand new, horror indie games to be AAA quality. Geese funded chapter one from his own pocket money. Geese is the only programmer. Geese is still a beginner and still in college. The fact he is still a beginner, and pulled this off shows that he's a fast learner, willingly to learn, and talented. Give him some slack.

"[...] But we find that the door [Jetstream Junction's] is locked. This fountain square station is huge, but there's really only one destination. Lloyd's Mane Stage Theater. [...] Check out the LOD's on this box. There's no bar code, bard code. No bar code, bar code. Indigo Park is made in Unreal Engine 5, and it's really pretty at times. Though, certain effects are obviously pretty janky. Yeah, the flashlight looks kind of like ass. The flashlight looming shadows are pretty janky. You can see them kind of wobbling and flickering around. I turned on all of the fancy features and while the game looks really moody and atmospheric when lights aren't moving, the flashlight doesn't really look well with it. The shadows flicker and jiggle all over the place and it just looks really bad."

Okay, if it certain effects are janky, how are they janky? What could they improve on to not make it less janky? For the flashlight bit, you are holding a flashlight and how it's meant to be done is suppose to be more realistic, according to Geese. Also, this is just really nitpicky. If anything, it's a a subtle thing and you get used to the flashlight feature pretty quickly. It kind of just sounds like you're picking this game apart, if it was an AAA game. The game is not perfect, by any means. But tearing and shredding to bit little, tiny, things when this project has ONE coder, who spent all of us OWN money, is still a beginner, and IS STILL in college.

When someone is a beginner and showing a willingly to learn, you have to take a different approach. It'd be one thing if Geese was doing programming for years, but he's not. You have to redirect your criticism and maybe, I don't know, give suggestions? You haven't really gone into what he could do to improve, and give examples to help him out. This is like treating someone who's a beginner drawer and expecting Michelangelo perfect details. They're drawing is still good, there's noticeable mistakes, but there's room to improve and grow. Also, Theft King, you literally have your settings maxed out. Maybe trying lowering them.

"Earlier, Rambley asked us where we wanted to go first. Implying, that we had a choice. [...] We don't. We go where exactly where Rambley says, always. That's the name of the game. Rambley tells you to go somewhere and you do it. Honestly, until the theater just now, every area in this game has been walk in, talk to Rambley, and walk out."

Theft King, asking a small, indie team to program a BUNCH of stuff you can do within an entire SECTION of an area is... a lot to ask, don't you think? Like, yes. I will admit I will agree there should be a lot more interactable with the items around that Ed can explore, I think that's a good point to bring up. But those would just be side things to do. You still have to progress the main story of chapter one. You can be patient for one minute. They are clearly building up to something. Besides, it's an abandoned theme park, I doubt any of the items inside would work. It's "walk in and walk out" to set the atmosphere of what's about to come, and let your guard down. It's not that hard to put two and two together.

Also, as I said before, to put pressure on one programmer to program so many things all at once is just not a cool thing to do. It sounds like you have to be entertained 24/7. Be patient, and wait. They're building up to something. Just wait.

"[...] Like I said before, the whole game is just kind of just walking into an area, having Rambley talk to you for a bit, and tell you where to go next. We find ourselves in Mollie's Landing Pad, which is a play pen highly reminiscent of DogDays from Poppy Playtime Chapter 3 or The Daycare from FNAF: Security Breach. This section presents itself as a puzzle, but it's really not. It's another fetch quest. Embedded in the walls, are five-colored that each can be set to one of four symbols. And throughout the area, we find paintings of shapes that correspond to the code. Again, it's not really a puzzle. It's just a slightly, contrived justification to make you wonder through this area and experience all of the scripted sequences." Rambley "tells you where to go" is because it is establishing how his game mechanic works, expanding on his personality, and him finding out the horrors of the park and what happened to everything. It's setting up how things are going to go down. Rambley is an AI park, GUIDE. Rambley is LITERALLY doing his job, GUIDING us around the park. Pay attention to what's going on.

Last time I checked, play pins are a big part of children's entertainment. Your local Chuck E. Cheese has this exact same, ball pit. Poppy Playtime and FNAF doesn't owe the rights to a colorful, play pit. See, through out his review Theft King calls Indigo Park a rip off of Poppy Playtime Chapter 3, and of Security Breach. But never goes into detail as to WHY and HOW it is. Sure, he shows via visuals, but never expands fully on his point on itself. Also, "fetch quest"? Fetch quests are something you get and return to an NPC. This, by definition is a puzzle. What are we exactly fetching, here? We're solving a puzzle to open the door. Also, wow! Scripted horror events in tight closed spaces! What a twist! Sarcasm.

"Unfortunately, by this point, the game had all but telegraphed that I wasn't in any danger and thus, I wasn't really scared."

...You literally have shown insistences of being scared? Through out when you were walking through Lloyd's maze thing, and when Mollie was peeking around the corners in the slides. You HAVE shown you were scared, or at least startled. Thus, it did it's job of being a horror game. Theft King, something doesn't need to be happening 24/7 to do it's job. Sometimes horror works better in subtle ways than just blaring red, warning signs all over the place, or having a scary chase scene.

"After pressing a button, with no visible indication of what it does."

...Look down. The fact that you couldn't even pay attention to something as something simple as this, tells me you weren't even doing a fraction or even cared to actually pay attention to what was happening, gameplay or lore wise. That's how much care was put into "reviewing" this game.

"As the leader of the FNAF community and for the former, top five greatest FNAF player in the world, I shouldn't have died to that."

Why are you running directly towards Mollie? You only died because you ran straight into the obvious "RUN NOW" part of the game.

"Yeah, it's literally the DogDays sequence from Poppy Playtime. It's literally the same thing. I criticized the DogDays chase in Chapter 3 for being boring, so, naturally, this cheap, knockoff is... even more boring. Normally, in my videos, the chase sequence is like a free 30 to 60 seconds of watch time. I just let it play because it's exciting. However, as I edit this video, I realized I have to cut this chase down, it's so boring. And I think that says a lot. [...] Then we see ourselves being chased through vents, just like Poppy Playtime Chapter 1."

Theft King, being chased down closed, liminal spaces isn't something Poppy Playtime owns. There are MANY differences. For one, in the DogsDays chase, you have to avoid the smaller creatures trying to get you, on top of the possessed DogDays chasing you, which is quite fast in the decrepit area. In Indigo Park, you're still the Landing Pad, going down slides, and jumping on things to get away from Mollie. Which leads into the Ranglers' room area. The areas look ENTIRELY different, and so do the vents in Chapter 1 of Poppy Playtime and here.

Also, you're not suppose to wait 30-60 seconds. You're suppose to be actively running away from the monsters. Y'know, the whole point of a chase sequence, and y'know, playing the game. It's "boring" because Indigo Park lets your guard down, when the chase is STILL happening until you see Rambley again.

"That was when it hit me. Despite Indigo Park being the definition of a shallow, walking simulator that that is in many ways, even less original than Garten of BanBan, I was still enjoying it. But, only thanks to Rambley. Rambley carries this game. Without him and his great dialogue and acting, Indigio Park would be entirely forgettable. For all of BanBan's faults, the game has this at least has this unique, bizarre, liminal style to it. Even if it's completely incoherent. Indigo Park's environments are generic. They're boring. There are some cool rooms and set pieces, but this doesn't really feel like an abandoned theme park. Like I said before, it feels like a sound stage. This is the video game equivalent to those haunted house rides that shepherd you through a series of rooms as scripted sequences play predictably each time. Rambley is the only thing keeps you playing because he's great. But, the longer Indigo Park goes on, the more and more obvious it becomes that he's a massive crutch that it leans on to mask the lack of any real subsite gameplay, interesting environments, or even compelling narrative.

We know that something bad happened here and it caused the park to be evacuated and closed down but once we get inside, we just see that place is trashed. There isn't much in the environment that hints at what actually happened. And without those breadcrumbs of mystery, the only real reason to keep moving forward is because Rambley tells us to. And HE IS, quite entertaining. However, I am skeptical, that this trick will work twice. Rambley kept me going for the roughly 1 hour it takes to beat Indigo Park Chapter 1, but it had started getting old. Fellow YouTuber, UniqueGeese is crowdfunding for chapter 2 right now and I think that's awesome. But they're going have to do more to have to do more for the follow up game and because chapter 1 has ZERO gameplay with which to build on, it's not really clear what a more ambitious sequel would even look like. Poppy ran into the same problem. Prior to chapter 3, the gameplay was just like... puzzles, scripted sequences and freaking Simon Says. With the latest entry, they added real gameplay mechanics and some would argue that Poppy suffered as a result. By failing to establish any actual, gameplay in chapter 1, Indigo Park either needs to introduce something totally new in chapter 2 or continue with the shallow scripted, walking simulator approach but just turn up the spectacle and fidelity." Out of all the points in this video, this one made me sigh the most.

To even COMPARE Indigo Park to Garten of BanBan is a huge insult. Garten of BanBan pumps out game after game, merch after merch, to make a quick buck and splash because right now indie, mascot horror is still popular. This game took over a YEAR to make, and had love and time, and passion, and giving a fresh, twist on it and to even say BanBan offered something better is just... really gross, in my opinion.

For the environments bit, you can see clearly where nature takes it's course through out the land with bushes and grass, and the decay of food in one of the cafes taking place. It's setting up the atmosphere of being decayed, left to rot, and feels like something's in the shadows. It's to make you unnerved that happiness used to be here, but now it's gone.

And YES! The lore IS there! You actively have to PAY ATTENTION as to what's going on. The problem with this point is that Theft King expects the game to paint the entire picture of what happened. When part of Indigo Park is it's mystery. Mollie repeats words of the workers abusing her, or the fact that Lloyd used to be the face of the brand, or the hidden cage within the arcade game, and Mollie saying "Get back in your cage, bird." Something Salem says within game. Or showing us the mascots got corrupted by something, and implying this isn't their original selves, but the actual cartoony mascots. You just have to wait, it's giving intrigue, but not painting the entire picture because it's just chapter 1. You'll probably see more of what happened later on. Be patient. A big part of Indigo Park's horror is how TERRIBLE the mascots were treated, and the abuse they suffered via the workers and people attending the park. That is interlinked with what happened to the park, 8 years ago.

With this point, it just seems like if nothing is happening 24/7, you're just bored. The phrase "walking simulator" has been done to death. We're being introduced to the basic game mechanics. Of course chapter 2 is going to be better than chapter 1. Literally all I have to say for this entire nothing burger of critique is "pay attention and let the devs cook".

"We encounter another information kiosk. Which lets us hear the dialogue for the remaining secret items we found. The mask during the chase sequence reveals a secret audio tape with objectively worse voice acting within the entire game."

How are you a FNAFTuber and not know what Dayshift at Freddy's is? It's one of the most popular parody FNAF games out there. The voice acting is bad on purpose because a.) it's mocking the text-to-voice speech the game uses b.) it's a joke.

Then near the end he says how his critiques were fair, and then states he likes the game, and says it's fun? Even though he spent the entirety of the game saying it's a boring, cheap knock off of Poppy Playtime and FNAF? I'm getting mixed signals here. All of this review was not expanding on any of his points, or if he did, it was something already within the game, and he clearly wasn't paying attention and actually looking around for secrets. You're suppose to be looking for clues, not getting handed to you.

This review was just "meh it's bad", and doesn't give any helpful criticism on how said game can improve, and even just downright insults the game multiple times. For the majority of the review, he just narrates what's going on, with spliced clips of him playing this on a stream. If anything, this just pads out the entire review, and waiting to get to an actual part of where he has a point. It, frankly, gets annoying after awhile, until he basically just sums up what he thought about the game just all at the end. It seems like Theft King really only made this video was to get clicks and views.

Now, everyone on YouTube wants this, obviously. But he really just seems likes poking the bear and making fun of people getting mad at him. Even if his critiques were not good. At all. Indigo Park isn't the best game ever or even the best indie mascot game made ever. It was entirely made out of bad faith, just to get a quick buck. A big problem I have with the video is the only harping on the "lack of gameplay."

I think people forget the games "feels sameish to Poppy Playtime and FNAF" is because they are horror games, who are first person and exploration games. Yes, you can tell there is inspiration but it does NOT copy the games at all, and just does homages to them and pays respects to them. Geese is a fan of mascot horror, and clearly respects them. It's not a "walking simulator", it's doing it's job as an EXPLORATION horror game. People have been using "walking simulator" as a critique and just have beaten that horse to DEATH. Give an actual, substance criticism or move on. Not to mention, he literally says that "they copied Fnaf Jr's death screen" when it was made by the same artist.

Also, for the obvious gotcha,

For him claiming it's "unoriginal" and a "ripoff", is coming from the guy who's VTuber avatar is just a white recolor of CatNap.

Just wanna add:

Listen. I know it's Theft King and he just does this to piss people off at this point but to just shame, put down, and put baseless claims of Indigo Park being a rip off, when it's inspired, not a rip off, of a passion project from a team that put so much love and time into it, is just really gross and needs to be called out.

Thanks for reading!

#indigo park #indigo park analysis #indie horror #indie mascot horror #rambley raccoon #anti theft king #theft king rant #tl;dr this entire video sucked ass and it was so hard to keep it all like professional #i watched this shitty review so y'all didn't have to hate it here

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ghostingcrows · 1 year ago

Text

Okay because generally I’ve been seeing a lot of fighting a weirdness I wanted to talk about this for a second

Hobie Brown is not an adult

Please stop being weird about him!!

More explanations under the cut

I’ve been complaining about this a lot and for people that don’t understand this situation essentially in an interview one of the directors said that an early concept of Hobie design was that he was supposed to be like the cooler older kid and as the example used for this he stated the ages 19/20

Because of this many people took it as still being canon which has led to a large bit of debate in the community between people about his age

The people who have taken this reference to the early concept as canon have started bashing people who ship Hobie with others in the group (mainly Miles and Pav which is important and which I will come back to later) as well as used this as an excuse to sexualize Hobie because hes an adult

A barely legal one which even if this was true is its own separate issue

However the issue with this specific take is that its wrong

For a variety of reasons

1) For starters people say that since the director said he was 19/20 it must be true however another director/creator of the film has stated that Hobies age is up for interpretation meaning he doesn’t have a specific set age

However, it is very clear based off of everything else that Hobie was still meant to be in the teenager range in terms of age

For starters the actual movie

Throughout the first half of the movie Hobie is referred to a couple times by both Gwen and Pav and later Miles

Every time he is talked about in this context it is always with the undertoned implication of him and Gwen supposedly having a romantic relationship with both Pav and Gwen treating it as a sort of thing that could potentially cause friction or other issues in regards to Miles and Gwens relationship

If Hobie really were 19/20 this would be, cannot stress this enough, incredibly weird and creepy on the writers part

Unlike Hobie Gwen does have a confirmed age and she IS a minor and the movie imply that she had a relationship with Hobie whether she actual did or not and treating it as a joke would be weird and out of place if he was an adult

Not to mention that a lot of people referred to Gwen, Hobie and Miles dynamic as a love triangle which again weird and gross and uncalled for if Hobie was an adult

2) The art books both in the english and Japanese translation refer to Hobie in a way that either implies hes a kid or outright uses terms that mean hes a child

In the English translation of the book Hobie is referred to as the cool slightly older boy the girls want to date

Meanwhile the Japanese translation literally spells it out

3) I’ve heard a variety of different deflect in regards to all the above mentioned stuff

“Hobie doesn’t look like a kid” people age differently. I’ve met kids in high school who were the same age as or younger than me with full ass beards and mustaches as well as people who are well into there 20 who look like they’re still 15 he simply just has a structured face

“He was bit at 16 in the comics and said he was spider-man for 3 years in the movie” We aren’t in the comics universe though and in this iteration Miles was bit at like 13 and Gwen at like 14 meaning that in actuality the kids are usually bitten really damn early and the actual facts are that we don’t know how old he was when he was bitten and since we very clearly aren’t in the comic universe as these movies are significantly different from the comics you can’t just go off of that

“Just because it was a concept doesn’t mean it was changed it could still have been kept” While it is true that yes sometimes things from first draft concepts are kept a lot of times they aren’t such as Hobies best friend Pavitr who was supposed to be 13 in his concept but very clearly isn’t in the movie (I don’t actually have solid evidence for that claim I just think it would be weird that they make comments about Pavs body and show him shirtless if he was still 13 in the final-) both Pav and Hobie had a shit ton of changes done to them alongside basically all of the main 4 (Hobie, Pavitr, Gwen and Miles), except for maybe Miles but he was already an established character, so using his concept as hard and fast evidence when he very clearly was changed a lot and everything else points toward him being a kid just doesn’t work

“He mentions going to a pub so he has to be at least 21” first Hobie is British and the legal age in Britain is 18 also you don’t have to be of legal drinking age to go into a pub you just have to be old enough to actual order drinks which doesn’t even account for the fact that this is also Hobie we’re talking about who would not give the slightest fucks about the legal drinking age “But they show him with a beer in his montage and they wouldn’t encourage that in an underage character” Hobies montage is so fast paced and colorful that I genuinely don’t even know if thats true because you can barely comprehend the stuff that happens in that scene the first time you see it and not to mention that he also flips off the cops in that montage so I don’t really think they were too concerned about encouraging certain behaviors or not since half of Hobies speech in that scene was about overthrowing governments saying ACAB

So in conclusion

Hobie doesn’t have a confirmed age but based off off all the information we are given he is probably actually closer to 16/17 as his age

Now as a side tangent something else I want to address is the inherent homophobia and racism undertones that came with the initial spreading of his false age

Because when people initially heard that age they’re first instinct wasn’t to jump at the actual movie for imply a ship with Hobie and Gwen or even on the people make jokes about but was instead to jump on the people shipping Hobie with Pav and Miles

Both other male characters who are also characters of color

Odd that the first though was the (honestly at that time) relatively new and unpopular gay poc ships (Yes I know the ships are more popular now they had BARELY any content at the time of the interview)

Like genuinely the absolute giddy JOY I saw some people have at the idea that people who were minding their own business would have had a ship they liked ruined for them was insane and still is to me

#Imma be honest I'm fairly confident that age estimate is right and its gonna be really awkward if the next movie fucks me by saying hes old #spider-man across the spider-verse #ATSV #hobie brown #pavitr prabhakar #miles morales #gwen stacy #punkflower #chaipunk #this debate gives me a headache and I hate it

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emzii-hi · 1 year ago

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MY OPINION ON THE FOREVER SITUATION

I would like to start to say this hurts me as a fan of forever and that I would honestly want to stay neutral and keep out of this whole thing until its be clarified but will keep tabs on whats going on. I do not speak on behalf of forever this Soley my thoughts and opinions. I do not know the culture of Brazil and i speak only from experience when i make connections. And the whole reason I am righting this is that I want to just get it off my chest. THIS IS A VERY VERY LONG POST!!

First of all i have seen the tweets and have watched the whole stream that forever streamed talking about this. I would also like to say that I speak and can read portugués so I feel like I can confidently form a well informed opinion based on what is being put out there. And i will talk about each part separately and then give my final opinion

THE TWEETS

The tweets are in no other words gross and very concerning and that's honestly all you can say about them. He was very obviously over what we know is the legal age and was talking about/towards minors fan or not is gross. Concerning about every other ableist and sexist tweets again are gross and shows a lack of maturity that he had at that age.

IMFORMATION/PEOPLE ONLINE

The way people especially English speaker from what I can see is actually crazy that people and assume information then spread THEIR opinion as fact towards other people. Whether the information is correct your opinion is not fact. sharing and putting your opinion of the information is okay but don't go around spreading your information as fact because it can be more hurtful then helpful to both parties.

Also this is another language AND culture. I feel like people speaking online about his voice sounding this or the way he phrase this are mainly English/Spanish speaking and even if Spanish is similar we do not know all their tones and cultural cues

Also a big thank you to everyone who is translating the information about everything that is happening you are all doing gods work and me and everyone in the community appreciate you

STREAM

On stream today forever both talked about the drama and the way he is handling it.

LAWYER/LEGAL ISSUES

I see a lot of people complaining and saying he must be guilt if he is lawyering up. Now this has two faces. ONE is that yea okay of he is so innocent why does he have to lawyer up it makes no sense. And to an extent i can agree with as like if you have nothing to hide. Especial if maybe the same victim is not able to get a lawyer.

But on the second side think about this logically. If you were accused of a crime petty or not your first thought is clearing your name. He is lawyering up in a way that is able to clear his name is a legal sense. Why can't and wouldn't he be able to defend himself is he MIGHT of truly not done something.

Another people were hoping that he would at least say sorry about what he did to the victim. But i would like to put it out there that if he is taking the legal route and he is getting a lawyer and defense to help him, if he were to say anything at the moment that made him seem guilty like admitting to the allegations would be used against him. Obviously this is in thoughts that the victim/s are taking any action towards Forever other that just stating it on the internet.

HIS OLD TWEETS

First things that i want to say is that one we do not unless you are Brazil know the culture. I am part Mexican and I can say that you will find a lot of men (more like boys) that joke like this. I can say from experience like that one of my ex and his friends that would joke like this a lot and people in Valorant joke like this ALL OF THE TIME. Is it wrong yes, did it make me feel super uncomfy yes. Point is that people usually joke like this and it was way more common back in the earlier 2010s, even fucking racist jokes where consider super funny until like super crack woke era came. He in the stream was like did I say this yes and I was wrong and I am not the person I was back then. For me I am like okay that's valid. PEOPLE CAN CHANGE. People can grow and mature. A school bully can become a better person. The fanfics we read where the mean person becomes nicer is change. Character development, character growth, maturing, call it what you will it does happen and honestly I am shock that people will point at someone that wasn't always they way they are now go 'OMG YOUR THE DEVIL NOW WHY DID YOU DECIEVE MY EXPECTATIONS'. Again this is not me defending Forever for his past tweets but more of me saying that you cant judge a person sometimes because of their past. This man probably met people that slapped sense and knowledge into him that he was like wtf I was a shit person.

Him deleting his old post is him starting a new and trying to show the person he is now and not the person he was and no longer agrees with. I would do the same if I posted something and just not longer agreed with it cause people do change and learn and grow new opinion whether for better or worse.

HIS POPULARITY

He also talked about how its kind of ironic that this claim/s has come to light right after his popularity has hit an all time high especially after the QSMP. And how every claim/s has first started on Twitter when theirs not actual legal action be taken into consideration by the victims. (from what i can tell) THIS DEOS NOT MEAN FOREVER IS INNOCENT. This just means keep an open mind. If people are able to send raid officers, break into streamers house, dox them online I would not put it past people faking a very gross and traumatic experience that effects actual peoples lives and hurts ACTUAL VICTIMS.

THE PERSON THAT PASSED AWAY

There was this person named Choquel (trigger warning) committed suicide due to a gossip blog spreading around false information. This person was who had a life and family that are now in shambles just because people wanted to spread rumors. I hope that they rest in peace and are enjoying their after life. And I send prayers to their family and hope for the best for them. I honestly don't feel comfortable taking 100% on this mainly cause idk a lot and this is just what ik about this situation but full am sadden that the world lost a person that could of made a change in someone's life but ended up taking their own because of others and their words.

OTHER STREAMER UNFOLLOWING/BANNING FOREVER

I do not know much on this aspect put from what I can see and do know is that a lot of people are unfollowing forever and even people from close circles like: PHIL, & BIRIUM.

I think this has two sides one is the very obvious opinion. They unfollowed because they believe the claims/have actual information that has not been released. And if they do and that's is why they unfollowed him then GOOD FOR THEM. I am glad they are standing in solidarity with the victim.

BUT on the other hand, is just in my opinion is that they just don't want to drag into drama that might effect them as streamer/person just for following the person being accused even if they don't support that person. Then again I do not have the information to be able to fully understand this.

MY FINAL CONCLUSION

I am going to remove myself from the forever community but will keep my eye out for any update. This can go either way, and if the victim is an actual victim and not someone that is just hateful, then I hope you get your Justice and forever gets the punishment and karma that he deserves. If forever truly is innocent then I wish him Goodluck on clearing is name.

I am really sad that this has happened to us as a community especially right now in the new year. I am sorry and give my condolences to any victim in this situation which includes, his wife, the victims that brought this to light, any past victims in the past from his tweets, and his friends.

Overall this situation is a bad situation and if its like what the community believes to be which is true then keep boycotting forever, keep spreading information/translations, and supporting the victims. But please do not send hate to fans in the community who choose to continue to support and enjoy Forever. They are fans and entitled to their opinion and do not deserve any hate towards them.

Again this whole thing is my opinion and thoughts if you have questions or concerns or feel that I missed something please let me know. IF you had or are going through grooming/sa/domestic violence speak to someone please trust me you will find people in life that will treat you and support you in the way you need and want.

Stay safe and warm. Eat and drink water

-EMZII OUT-

#forever situation #qsmp forever #qsmp #talking #my opinion #I am out but will be keeping tabs #sad #veent

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froznwater · 1 year ago

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I love seeing all ur aus they’re so yummy :) ur fanfics r acc the reason I started to use Ao3 it very much scared me at first tho (I missed a tag once…)

But anyway, would assistant Noah like live in that house that the winners got in all stars? And it’d be like Ale would he more likely to win challenges bc of it since he gets softer during all stars

READ THE TAGS YOU GUYS OMG, very important(someone said they missed a tag on spanish translator im going to hope that wasnt you LMAO) but thank you!!!!! it's kinda crazy the amount of people that have told me i introduced them to ao3/alenoah. happy to do so tho <3

OKAY, now, when any of you ask about my AUs knows you are going to get a lengthy response because I use them as excuses to talk about AUs. I think it would be exciting if he was suppose to stay in the same sector as the interns, but either Noah sneaks out, because they are all fans and annoying/gross/etc and jut sleeps int he winners house when he can. OR Chris starts using him to stir drama (Chris has a great legal team that covers all bases. There's a reason he excluded the part about kissing contestants >:)) I think it would be super funny to do this early in the fic:

"He's evil." Noah whispers as he gently closes the bedroom door. There's cameras all around the house, they'll turn on at the slightest noise. Alejandro peaks at him through one open eye and slowly sits up, "What?"

"Mike. He's get some multiple personality thing and he's not Mike anymore, his name is Mal."

Alejandro stares at him like he's grown a second head. "What is this, an aLIEance?"

Noah deadpans, traveling carefully through the room. "That joke sucked." When he reaches the edge of the bed he continues, "I'm not lying."

He shoves Alejandro a CD.

AND TRHEN THEY VOTE OFF MAL AND THAT PLOT JUST IS LIEK SOOOO SILLY AND GONE!!! But mal would probably have to stick around for a while. But they could sneak off to the confessional, in the night to the woods, to the winners house, etc to exchange info. Noah really doesnt like any of the new guys, and doesnt want them to win at all. So he's helping the villians, through Alejandro. just saying, if they aren't enemies, they are friends. Friends who could get a lot of shit done.

#asks #assistant noah #au

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gutsfics · 11 months ago

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can you give specific examples of what happened to help people understand what happened

this is non-extensive, just the ones i think are the most egregious of what shes done and said

i'm not sure how much of this is stuff she's deleted, as these are all from screenshots i already had on hand, but i would like to say that deleting a post doesn't necessarily mean you no longer agree with what was said in it, especially if you double down on what was said when you're called out for it. which she has done Plenty of times

and for the record, this is not something i enjoy doing. part of the reason this took me a few days to post is because this is stressing me the fuck out and ive been trying to spend as little brainpower on this as possible

First point: queerphobia in the form of homophobic jokes, sharing panphobic rhetoric, and talking for transgender people on a topic she (as far as i am aware) has no

the pelicansexual "joke" was told at the expense of Ethan and Tobias during the "Ethan Bisexuality Canonity" argument she & i got into in June (which btw i would like to apologize for starting that up, i was frustrated w pb's coddling of the cishet part of the fandom & i was having difficulty phrasing it bc of how upset i was w it. i did not mean to attack the fandom specifically but intent doesn't cover for outcome)

the pelicansexual joke was a since-deleted tag on one of her posts which went something along the lines of "my Ethan and Tobias are now pelicansexuals, which means they have to break up with [her characters] as they are not pelicans". i dont have a screenshot of this unfortunately, but i do have a screenshot of her response to an anon calling her out on it.

in case you don't understand why her "joke" was homophobic, before gay marriage was legalized in the US in 2015, a common anti-homosexuality talking point was "homosexuality being legalized is a slippery slope to bestiality being legalized". while it is good she deleted her "joke", its frankly worrying to me that when called out on it she doubled down on how she was joking when she said it, instead of listening and learning. her bisexuality and queer activism do not mean that she is incapable of saying and doing homophobic things.

the panphobic rhetoric & her talking for transgender people are, if i remember correctly, both part of the same incident wherein she reblogged something panphobic and then, when called out for it, said something that something that most trans people consider transphobic isn't actually transphobic at all

screenshot 1: bisexuality and pansexuality are two very similar sexualities, with the main difference between the two coming down to personal preference for what term you feel like best. while bisexuality does mean "sexual attraction to two or more genders", some people prefer a term that focuses on the "or more" part. neither sexuality excludes transgender people. pitting queer people against each other because theyre not the "right" kind of queer does nothing but damage the queer community as a whole

screenshot 2: agreeing to delete the post, but doubling down on what she said and refusing to listen to anon simply because they're anonymous

screenshot 3: the highlighted part is what we're focusing on here. "We don't consider cis gay men who only date the same to be anti-trans". hi, I'm a trans gay man. Yes We Fucking Do. i don't understand why she thinks she has the authority to speak on this. what "we" is she referring to here?

Second point: lack of respect or understanding of boundaries in fandom spaces, including both blocks and simply not wanting to interact with someone

i'll be honest, i'm a bit unsure if the above paragraph is the right way of describing what i mean, but she has a bit of a history of being.... openly weird about people who have blocked her for "no reason", and not only that has stated she thinks that not wanting to take place in an event run by someone you are uncomfortable with is childish

i believe the first one is about my friend Jay, who has her blocked for similar reasons that i do. while it is perfectly fine for her to assume whatever she wants about the reasoning for a block, her phrasing of "all i ever did was be supportive" in a public post about it allows her to victimize herself over a boundary being placed. speaking of Jay, Elsa has, knowing full well that she's been blocked by xim on the "peonyblossom" blog- which, again, is a boundary that has been placed- decided to message xim on the choicespride blog xe runs

the second one is specifically about a tumblr user who i do not know personally and do not wish to drag them into this as they have left the open heart fandom. she was sent an anon about this user blocking her which, yeah, is really weird and suspicious. but this isn't about that, this is about her response to learning she's been blocked. she refers to herself as this users "biggest fan" and says that it "isn't normal" to block your biggest fan. once again she is victimizing herself over a boundary someone else has placed, only this time she has done it in a post talking about a person with their username in it. when you have a blog as big as hers, people are bound to go after someone in the name of defending the person they feel was slighted

& here's her essentially calling people childish bc they might not want to interact with someone who causes them harm. iirc this was either about certain event blogs in the fandom not disclosing who's running them bc they know full well that some people might not be comfortable interacting with them (hiding ur identity will not help with that) or about people choosing not to participate because they know that the person running the event is someone they don't want to interact with. this ones just bizarre to me. no one has to interact with anyone ever, and calling them childish for it is, frankly, childish

Third point: her callout post for Jeremy and her non-apology

to get it out of the way: i'm friends with Jeremy. i'll try to keep this as unbiased as possible, but i am deeply deeply upset and frustrated with everything thats happened to rain. also, just so yall know, Jeremy gave me permission to talk about this. i'm not just dredging up old drama for drama's sake here.

first- the callout post

the thing that started this was a post to the playchoicesconfessions blog where an anonymous user said- and i'm copy/pasting it here- "Ethan said he and Tobias were like brothers. Weird how many people in the fandom want to get with their brothers.’" essentially, this anonymous user accused people who ship Ethias as being into irl incest which..... we will not be getting into all the ways thats problematic here.

(as an aside, Elsa did at some point reblog and then delete this post, but her commentary was focused squarely on "ship and let ship" which is a sentiment i agree with but she completely ignored the blatant homophobia in this post. here's a version someone reblogged from her in case you're curious as to what she said)

Jeremy reblogged this confession post and added "i genuinely hope this person and others who think like this eat a fucking bullet holy shit" specifically in reference to the anon insinuating incest. in turn, anons on rain's blog assumed rai was referring to people who don't ship Ethais and sent rain nasty messages, which rai would respond to and get more anons who saw the latest response and again assume rai was talking about not shipping a ship they ship and not the actual genuine fucking homophobia from the original confession post.

one of these anons sent screenshots of rain's posts to Elsa, without the context, and told her rai was talking about her. rai was not. not until the post where rai (rightfully, ihmo) called both Elsa and another blogger (this one who also got a similar ask about being blocked by the user i mentioned earlier but who decided to put it in the open heart tags instead of keep it on their blog the way Elsa did. that's the only props i'll give to her in regards of that- yes it was shitty she posted it in the first place but at least she didn't tag it) for complaining about and villainizing someone who blocked them.

tldr version is- Jeremy was venting about anons that were being homophobic to rain, another anon sent screenshots of those posts to Elsa without the context who who rai was talking about and said they were about her, and Elsa, without bothering to verify in any way, decided the best course of action would be to publicly call rai out, painting rain as a bully who has been targeting her specifically and once again victimizing herself. on her blog with a bunch of followers. many of whom also chose not to verify, and instead just heaped more hatred onto Jeremy's blog.

this went on until September, when they talked to each other at first with a third party go-between, and eventually person-to-person. Jeremy explained the context of the vent posts, Elsa explained that she was getting the screenshots with no context from an anon and admitted she should have verified them herself instead of going full nuclear, and they both agreed to apologize publicly

all good, end of story, right?

no.

while in Jeremy's post, rai took accountability for their side of what happened in this awful game of telephone and apologized for rains part in the whole thing. if you want to read it, here is a version of it.

Elsa, on the other hand.... well she apologized, but to be honest I'm not quite sure what for.

she says there's been misunderstandings on both parts led on by one or more anonymous sources (no arguments here), says she understands that the posts that were sent to her were not actually about her (okay good) and says that its a tough world and that she's deleted her posts.

okay.... but that doesn't specify what she did at all to need the apology. which was publicly call out Jeremy on her blog with.... well, i'm not sure how many followers she has, but i do know that she's got the most well known blog in the choices fandom. by publicly calling out Jeremy in the way that she did, she (whether intentional or not) set her followers out to attack rains blog. she did not apologize for this. asking people to stop sending hate to rains blog is not the same as taking accountability for sending those people to rains blog in the first place

so. yeah.

again, non-extensive list, but i dont wanna mention things she's done without having screenshots or links to show proof that she did it, and i dont feel like finding more of her bullshit bc this just. really fucking stressed me out.

also this isn't me saying "shes a terrible person forever and i hate her and nobody should like her ever" this is me saying "hey, shes done/said some hurtful things in the past and it sure would be cool if she acknowledged any of it" but i think coolsville sucks or whatever.

also also most importantly: its possible for queer people to say and do things that are queerphobic. being queer yourself does not give you a shield from people calling you out for that. neither does real life activism. its great that she's done real life activism! but pointing back to things you've done in the past, or for a different group of people than the one youre in does not exempt you from the harm youre causing today, to the people you're interacting with.

i dont have a proper ending to this

thanks for reading i guess

#once again i am apologizing to my mutuals from my main blog who are following me here & not apart of this fandom #sorry yall have to witness me slowly tearing off my own face and eating it every few months

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ejzah · 6 months ago

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In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 33

***

Deeks wasn’t sure what to expect from Monica after he made his ultimatum. After the last few years, he knew he couldn’t put anything past her. He relaxed a little when she didn’t make any attempt to contact him that night or the next day. He didn’t know if that meant she’d taken his warning seriously or not, but he decided to reach out to a friend with experience in family law just in case.

He felt a hint of disquiet and guilt at turning to legal avenues. It felt vindictive, which was the reason he’d originally decided not to push for a contract of any kind. At the time, he wanted Caleb to have a relationship with Monica, if possible, while avoiding the pitfalls that typically accompanied the end of a relationship. Now he realized it had only created more problems and gave Monica power she couldn’t be trusted with.

It went against all his instincts, but Deeks forced himself to stop worrying about what she might do. So far she hadn’t attempted to visit again, and if she did, he intended to reiterate his conditions for said visits.

As confused as he might be, Caleb already seemed more himself, and that more than anything was proof that Deeks had made the right decision.

The next Monday, Kensi stopped by a little before dinner. He greeted her at the door with a surprised, but nonetheless delighted smile.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, leaning in to kiss her as he welcomed her inside.

“Hey. I can’t stay long, but I wanted to drop something off. I brought over Caleb’s end-of-year assessment results,” she explained, handing him an envelope with the school logo and address on the front. He lead her over to the couch and they both took a seat as he tapped the envelope against his hand.

“Ooh, I’m getting flashbacks to middle school,” he joked. “‘Martin is an energetic and outspoken child. At times he shares his opinions a little too freely.’”

“So what you’re telling me is little Marty Deeks was destined to be a lawyer?” Kensi guessed with a teasing smirk.

“Or a criminal. As Mrs. Latham told me so frequently.” He slipped his index finger under the seal, and pulled out two sheets of paper. The first showed his math score and the second, his reading. “Oh my god.”

“Don’t spread it around, but Caleb had the highest reading score for the whole grade,” Kensi shared, the excitement obvious in her voice. “He also showed a lot of growth in math as well. He’s excelling in both subjects.”

“Wow,” Deeks murmured, slightly shocked. “I know grades and test scores aren’t everything, but…”

“It’s ok to be proud of him. I know I am. He’s worked really hard and made so much progress in the short time he’s been in my class, and not just academically.” Kensi squeezed his shoulder. “And I know it hasn’t been the easiest year for either of you.”

“You’re right about that,” Deeks agreed softly. “There have been some definite lows, but it’s also had some of the best moments too. I wouldn’t change anything if it meant I wouldn’t meet you. Thank you for taking such good care of him.” Kensi tilted her head, and he sensed she was going to object, so he added, “I know that’s literally a part of your job, but not every teacher would have taken the time to make sure he felt comfortable and fit into a new environment. We both owe you a lot.”

Kensi dipped her chin, pressing her lips together. “Ok, you need to stop saying things like that, because I’m going to start crying.” He slid his arm around her back, drawing her into his chest.

“That’s the kind of thing a guy likes to hear,” he joked. Kensi’s fingers curled in his shirt, tugging him closer instead of pushing him away.

“You’ve been pretty life changing too, Marty Deeks.”

He shook his head, marveling at the ridiculous spectrum of emotions he’d felt this last week: shock, despair, anger, and now absolute happiness.

They stayed snuggled in one another’s arms for a few more minutes until Kensi sighed and stretched. “Mm, I better go. I have a bunch of data to enter and end of year letters to start.”

“Ugh. Give me a good old contract any day.”

“I don’t know, I think you’d make a pretty good teacher,” Kensi disagreed. “Data entry notwithstanding.”

“Oh so if the lawyer thing doesn’t work out, you’ll put in a good word for me at St. Bridget’s?” he asked. He smiled at the ridiculous notion. It felt good to be silly for a moment after the stress of the last week.

“I’m not sure Sam’s quite ready for that just yet.” She leaned in and kissed him, her tongue swiping over his bottom lip before she eased back. “I really do have to go. See you tomorrow?”

“It’s a date. I’ll make you lasagna,” he promised as he walked her to the door. They kissed one more time before she slipped out.

“Did I hear Kensi?” Caleb asked, making his usual running entrance into the room. He looked around expectantly.

“Yeah.” Deeks tucked the test results back into the envelope, figuring Caleb didn’t need to worry about scores right now. “She just left. Sorry, kiddo.”

“Aw.” Caleb stuck out his lower lip in disappointed. “I wanted to see her.”

“She had to get home and grade all your papers. You’ll see her tomorrow,” Deeks reminded him.

“Yeah, but that’s not the same. At school there’s all the other kids and I have to call her Miss Blye. Plus, I can’t talk about all the cool stuff she does with us,” Caleb explained seriously.

Deeks sighed; he couldn’t exactly argue with that.

“I know, buddy. But you know why it’s gotta be that way. I miss her too.”

“It’s not fair.” Crossing his arms, Caleb doubled down on the pouting.

“Ok, somebody needs some cheering up,” Deeks decided. He grabbed him under the arms, and spun him in a circle.

“Daddy, stop!” Caleb protested, even as he giggled. Within a few more spins, he was laughing in earnest and begging Deeks to go faster.

After a couple minutes, Deeks set him down with a groan. Caleb launched himself off the arm of the chair, any trace of his annoyance gone. Deeks knew it would always be so easy to solve his problems, and that the topic would likely come up again, but for now it had done the trick.

“Hey, you wanna help me make lasagna for Kensi tomorrow?” Deeks asked as Caleb wriggled on his back. He felt a lot heavier than he just a few months ago, his arms and legs longer too.

He jumped off, coming around to face Deeks, his eyes wide with excitement. “For real?”

“I do not tell stories about lasagna.”

“Daaaad.” Caleb made an exasperated sound, somehow looking simultaneously five and twelve.

Laughing, Deeks took pity on him. “Yes, Kensi is coming for dinner tomorrow. But only if you don’t mope around all day.” He reached out, tickling Caleb’s ribs before he danced away. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

“Awesome. Now come help me make biscuits, or else we’ll never eat tonight,” Deeks said, nudging Caleb towards the kitchen.

“Or, we could just order pizza!”

Deeks shook his head, listening to Caleb’s argument in favor of ordering dinner. He sure was lucky to have this funny, smart, stubborn, amazing little boy.

***

A/N: Yes, the fluff continues, but Monica lurks in the background.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #teacher kensi #lawyer Deeks #self indulgent writer #fluff #in miss Blye’s class #part 33 #au #ejzah fanfiction

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planetkiimchi · 1 year ago

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ten things i hate love about lee | l.t

pairing: ten x fem implied!reader, highschool au, non idol!au, academic rivals

warnings: pg13, used a few curse words (fuck once for emphasis)

word count: 5.9K

summary — ten lee is practically perfect in every way. good for him, because you don’t care. except that he’s outshining you in areas you’ve never been outdone in before, and you hate him for it. maybe the reason you hate him is not because he’s talented, but because of how you’re falling for him.

a/n: thank you @ssunnae for beta reading the last part <3 i accidentally deleted my work on tumblr editor, had to try and copy and paste from docs, realised my docs wasn't the latest updates version, tried to restore the last bullet point from tumblr (which i had just tried to delete thinking i’d just use the docs version) when making this. it was hell. however, i did have a lot of fun playing with the chinese parts! please enjoy.

New year, new you. The careful arrangement of your stationery in your pencil case and the neat stacks of books in your bag are all leading up to one thing really. This year, this year is going to be your academic comeback.

#1: His academic prowess.

Now the thing is, when you say "academic comeback" you're not really talking about going from failing to passing. You're actually already at the top of the class. It's just that there's a certain boy called Ten Lee who constantly puts you on edge.

You're constantly competing in everything that you do now. Last time, you couldn't really care less if you were second or third in class, because you could run circles around most of the people during physical education (PE) class, play the piano semi-proficiently, and carry a tune.

Then, the year that you turned fifteen, a new boy transferred to your school.

He was Thai and had a deceivingly cute smile, and at first you couldn't wait to be friends with him.

"Hi! I'm Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, but you can call me Ten. Because I'm a ten out of ten in everything I do!" was how he had introduced himself.

And honestly, it was a little cheesy, but you thought he was all the cuter for it. Especially because he had clarified the Thai system of nicknames and explained that it really was his name, not just a joke to boast about himself.

So that was fine, up till the point when everyone started comparing you to him.

When he got first in class for math, you were surprised but not disappointed. You had done your best, and since you hadn't studied that much anyway. you were proud of your solid understanding. Besides, you had seen how much he had studied and worked for his grades. It was understandable to you.

But not to everyone else.

Not when he could keep up with you during gym class. He said that he did martial arts, which obviously made a lot more sense, but his stamina was scarily good. It was insane how much he trained and the discipline he had, and your parents started calling you out for it.

"Why aren't you studying?" They would ask. "Didn't the new boy, whose first language isn't even English, do better than you in Literature? It's probably because you don't work hard enough." It was the first time in your not-very-long life that you realised you actually had to start studying and not just submit homework on time.

It was a realisation you could have done without, but it was starting to eat into you. Your friends would throw in teasing remarks from time to time about how "Ten Lee was so smart and hahaha Y/n you finally have a competitor!" without consideration for the fact that you didn't want a competitor. You were perfectly fine cruising through high school and you didn't need someone to put into perspective your talents.

You had been the prodigy for so long you couldn't comprehend someone threatening your status.

Getting used to it took a while. And by "a while", you meant three years. But this year, you were going to be eighteen. You were going to become legal, and you had new worries to think about.

Like adulting, and drinking, and several other things like when were you going to get a house or pay your parents back for your car? Trivial matters seemed to occupy your mind a lot, but it was all similarly linked to proving yourself in the eyes of your peers again.

Also, you missed being validated.

Speaking of which.... "Hey there. I'm... supposed to be sitting here?"

That voice sounded familiar, who was it? As you looked up from your phone, you caught sight of a very familiar, annoyingly handsome face. Ten Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul.

The universe must have been conspiring against you, because there was no way your luck was this bad. In a room with 20-odd teenagers, you still ended up with Ten, of all people? Seriously?

You gave him a stiff but polite smile (mostly to show him that you weren't above having manners either) and went back to fidgeting with your pen and trying your best to ignore his presence.

Sitting next to Ten was the worst experience of your life. When you previously a minimum of two seats away from him, how studious he was didn't bother you quite as much.

But it was a little more difficult to ignore the constant scribbling he was doing in his notebook (and they were good, neat notes; you peeked). His quiet confidence should have been contagious, but it was slightly disarming.

You were about to confidently explain why the work done against friction in your physics problem was 30.0 joules, when he lightly tapped your worksheet and said under his breath, "You missed one step. It's 27 joules."

Lo and behold, as soon as you looked at what he was pointing to, you realised he was right. Your skin coloured and you shook your head, lowering your hand as your teacher turned to look at you.

"Yes, Y/n? Would you like to answer the question?"

"It's alright," you mumbled softly. "I realised I missed something out."

The embarrassment seeped into your skin like poison, making you feel more and more terrible throughout the day. It wasn't the first mistake you had made, but that somehow made it worse. It made you wonder if previously Ten had noticed all your mistakes, and thought you were careless and silly.

You were still thinking about it at the end of the school day, as you collected your books and stashed it back into your bag, too tired to think about organising it.

"See you tomorrow," Ten smiled at you, waving as he left. Oh, how you hated the unreasonable way you disliked him.

#2: His chivalry.

"Good morning." Being greeted by Ten in the morning was one of those things you could do without. But it had been a good morning so far, and you weren't going to let him ruin that.

"Good morning," you replied, reaching for the door that both of you were standing in front of.

He beat you to it, opening the door before you could and gesturing for you to go first. You did, but with a slight huff, trying not to let it show how annoyed you were that you hadn't been faster.

It was a good morning though, he was right.

Firstly, your Chinese teacher was sick and not in school, meaning you had a free period. You and Yangyang decided to go to the library during your free period, happily speaking in Chinese all the way there.

Obviously, your teacher had assigned work, but the quiet confines of the library allowed you to be productive as you and Yangyang listened to music through your headphones (and his Airpods. Rich boy).

The hour passed uneventfully, and you headed back to class, refreshed from the cool air of the air-conditioned library.

Secondly, it was Literature period. You were currently on the topic of poetry, and though some of the poems made little to no sense to you, "Five ways to kill a man" was one of the most interestingly satirical poems you'd read.

Analysing poems was not your forte, but listening to people give their interpretations of poems and seeing the influence of their worldview on their interpretation was definitely intriguing.

Time flew by, and before you knew it, it was time for break.

You would gladly and easily have slid back into the rhythm of ignoring Ten completely, except he suddenly seemed determined to be everywhere in your life.

As you queued up for your food, he moved back, allowing you to order first. When you went back to class, he pulled your chair out for you to sit. When you dropped your pencil and bent down to pick it up, he covered the edge of the table so you wouldn't hurt your head.

What was wrong with him? Why was he going out of his way to be so nice?

Ten was a nice guy, there was no denying that. Even when he was constantly overshadowing your achievements, he never bragged about it, especially not to your face. But never before had he gone out of his way three consecutive times to be nice to you.

Something had to have been up. Maybe he had had too much sugar in his coffee, and was channeling the energy rush through being nice. Maybe he had been dared to do so. Maybe-

"Earth to Y/n. Are you okay? You've been staring at the same math problem for five minutes now without lifting your pen."

You blinked rapidly and looked at Ten, then back down at your paper. He was right (again). It was an easy question, but you were so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn't even started it yet.

Hurriedly, you put your pen to paper and began writing, trying to forget how caught up you had been in your thoughts of Ten.

#3: His generosity.

After a week of sitting next to Ten, his mannerisms became quite commonplace. You got used to his greetings each morning, coming to enjoy the positive way they started your day.

His smile and the way he threw his head back when he laughed — you grew used to it, to like it, even. He brought cheesy humour and dad jokes to class sometimes, muttering them under his breath and being surprised when you replied.

Slowly, your dynamic with him shifted from tolerance to acceptance, and his prominent existence in your life grew more and more bearable.

Take the time you bumped into him at the coffee shop near school, for example. You had left home early, as per usual, and were on your way to grab a cup of coffee from your favourite place just next to the school.

The shop was a small little place along the road that experienced high traffic in the mornings and afternoons when school ended. Students and teachers alike frequented the place, and you were no exception.

Like clockwork, you made your way there for your usual cappuccino (you liked milk) in the wee hours of the morning as the sun groggily rose. As per your usual morning routine, you were about to order your drink when you stumbled and bumped into the person in front of you.

Cursing your clumsiness, you immediately apologised. The person turned around, and you came face to face with none other than Ten Lee. You had been coming to the shop every schoolday for one and a half years and not once, had you seen Ten order anything from the shop. You’d never seen him step foot in it, nor bring a cup of the fresh coffee into class to savour.

It was so out of the ordinary that you froze, not quite sure what to do. Thrown off by the lack of habitual routine, it was all you could to pull yourself together to deliver your order.

“So sorry about that. I’ll pay for your coffee,” Ten told you, and the cashier nodded before you could protest. You wanted to tell him that really, it was fine, and it was definitely your fault, and could he please stop being such a gentleman?

But the words got caught in your mouth, and you stared dumbfoundedly at him as he paid.

Feeling a bit guilty and slightly awkward, you moved along down the queue, reaching out to grab your order. Thankfully, Ten didn’t try to initiate any conversation, and slowed down his pace when you briskly walked away.

That was, well. Perhaps not the best example of an encounter with Ten that was bearable. But you did understand his well-meaning intentions and were starting to get that maybe that was just what he was like.

After all, Ten’s generosity did seem to come intrinsically. He never failed to offer a pen when someone needed to borrow one, or to buy someone a gift when it was their birthday. (That was actually another thing you’d noticed. He remembered things about people.)

Once, you overheard him talking to Xiaojun about the upcoming NCT 127 concert. Xiaojun's bias was Jaehyun, and when Ten was buying them tickets, he'd purposely selected the category of restricted view seats that would be nearer to Jaehyun.

At the time, you didn't really think much of it, but thinking back on it, Xiaojun must have felt so loved to know that someone noticed his preferences like that. Ten's thoughtfulness in his gifts (not just giving costly, expensive and useless items) was something else that made you like him, just a little.

#4: Him being multilingual.

February 22nd was probably the first day that you didn't get greeted by Ten at the door. It was funny how over the course of a month, you'd quickly become accustomed to saying good morning to him. Although it was only two words, they did help to start your day on the right foot.

You had read somewhere that it took 59-70 days to form a habit. It might only have been about 50, but you had come to form the habit of greeting Ten each morning.

So when Ten was busy on a phone call that morning, you couldn't help but to notice that he seemed to be speaking in Thai. You had to confess that even after three years of knowing Ten, you had never heard him speak in his native language before.

His English was extremely good, and the accent could not be associated with his Thai origins, so the way he sounded in Thai was quite foreign to you.

"Y/n, why do you look so out of it today?"

"Hm?" You shook your head, shaking yourself from your trance to say hello to your friend Kun. "Oh, nothing. I was just thinking."

"What about?"

Ten Lee? You couldn't possibly tell Kun that. You'd sound like a silly little highschooler with a crush on your classmate! Instead, you shrugged and gave as vague of an answer as you could. "Projectile motion..."

Kun nodded, unconvinced. But he didn't press you for details, instead choosing to switch to Chinese, suspecting that you wanted to talk about Ten without him realising.

“Zhe shi yin wei li yong qin ma？” Is this because of Ten Lee?

“Ng!” You replied unhappily. “Wo zen me mei gan jue dao zi ji wu yi zhong xi huan shang le ta ne?” How could I have not realised myself unconsciously falling for him?

"It happens," Kun replied, not unkindly. "After all-"

"Wo hen you mei li a," Ten interjected. I have a lot of charm. You half-flinched, half-gasped. Since when could Ten speak Chinese? Yes, you were well aware that he could speak Thai, English and Korean fluently, but nobody had told you that he could speak Chinese!

If you had known, you would have saved yourself so much embarrassment. Luckily, Kun was as surprised as you, meaning he hadn't deliberately tried to put you on the spot when switching languages.

Oh, his multilingual brain was too much for you to bear. How were you going to explain yourself? You had basically just indirectly confessed your undying love for Ten in the least subtle way possible.

You buried your face in your hands to hide the blush spreading over your cheeks, and Kun patted your back comfortingly, trying to tell you that it was okay (it wasn't).

Just then, Yangyang of all people had to walk past.

Of course, the nosy boy wanted to know what had just happened. Kun pulled him aside, gently explaining under his breath the absolutely mortifying situation you were in, while you tried to ignore the amused look you were sure was on Ten's face.

"Are you done sulking yet?" He asked, the light-heartedness in his tone somehow making things worse. He obviously didn't understand how humiliated you were feeling.

"... No." You pouted and turned over so that you didn't have to face him, drowning out the sounds of Yangyang's laughter.

"Zumindest kann er kein Deutsch," he offered.

"It doesn't matter if he can't speak German," you groaned. "Neither can I, really! Ahh zhen bu hao yi si!" You cry into your sweater. This is so embarrassing!

Wait a second... you don't own a sweater.

Reluctantly, you sat up and looked at the sweater, checking for a name of some sort. Written on the tag of the sweater, in cursive, was Ten's name.

Of-fucking-course. He probably just draped it over you while you were wallowing in your sorrow, and you didn't realise because you were too busy being embarrassed.

"You can keep it," Ten supplied helpfully. "I've got plenty anyway."

You didn’t know why, but you were glad it smelled like him.

#5: His arms.

It was late when you left school that evening. Your extracurriculars had dragged longer than they were supposed to, and the sun was already setting by the time you climbed into your car.

It wasn't the first time that you were leaving school late in the evening, but you still felt like there was someone watching you, or following you. Afraid to draw attention to yourself, you quickly started the engine and drove off towards your house.

You were maybe fifteen minutes away from home when you realised that a car behind you had been following you for the past fifteen minutes. Instead of going home by the usual route, you turned left instead. (You were probably going to get lost due to your terrible sense of direction, but it was fine.)

The car followed.

You took another left, hoping against hope that it would finally stop tailing you.

But it didn't.

Nervous and unsure what to do, you noticed with a start that the street you were on was oddly familiar. Where had you seen it before... Oh, that was right. Ten's street was on the left. You'd seen it on his Instagram and thought it was unfairly good for photo taking.

With one hand on the wheel and your fingers shaking, you dialed Ten's number and turned left.

"Hello?" His voice sounded warm and inviting, and you wished you could be next to him right at that moment.

"Are you home? Can- can you open the door, please?" You asked, voice trembling. Ten didn't reply for a moment, but you heard his footsteps over the call and breathed a sigh of relief. Surely he would say yes....

"What's going on, Y/n?" He asked, voice hardening. He sounded annoyed, angry, even. It was not an emotion you were used to attributing to Ten. He always seemed happy all the time, and if he were mad because you were calling him, you didn't know where else to go.

"I think someone's following me. And I'm on your street. If the lights in your house are on, I'll be able to spot you," you forced yourself to say.

"Okay." Without asking any more questions, you saw the side gate of a house open. You abruptly came to a halt, trying to ignore the screeching of brakes as the car behind you struggled to come to a stop as well. You threw open the door and shut it behind you, fingers shaking as you tried to lock it and ran into Ten's house, stumbling into his arms as he hurriedly locked the door behind you.

"Didn't know where else to go," you mumbled, your legs turning into jelly as you shook nervously in his arms.

#6: His art.

It took a while before you felt alright again. It came slowly, as Ten handed you a mug of hot chocolate and sat you down on the couch. Every one of his moves was slow, cautious, careful not to jar you and gently bring you back to your senses. You hugged the sweater tighter around yourself, curling up and wiggling your toes, glad he did not mention that the sweater you were wearing was his.

Neither of you spoke, and instead you let your gaze linger over the vastness of the inside of Ten's house. You'd never been in it before, but even though it didn't feel sprawlingly big, it felt open and spacious, with plenty of space for creation, and more importantly, creativity.

Art was everywhere into the house, imbued in the very spirit of it. The mug in your hand was glazed, and you could feel the untouched base of the mug had something etched into it. If you flipped it over, you would have seen Ten's Thai name engraved there, a mark of his own work.

The wall was covered in wallpaper, but the wallpaper was blank, and acted as a giant canvas. On some edges, there were doodles in bold black marker, something he must have done mindlessly when he was bored. On the other sides, there were impulsive brush strokes drawn in large arcs, some dry and opaque, some more translucent, and some that were just delightfully textured.

It drew you to it, making you feel at home even in the house with all its modern furniture. The rug beneath your feet felt like his work as well, with the cow pattern on it reminiscent of his unique art style.

"Are you alright?" Ten asked, breaking the silence.

You would have liked to stay quiet for a little longer, absorbing all the little pieces of Ten that had slowly been absorbed into the house, to learn everything that made him him. But perhaps it was the art itself and the way that it made you feel that caused the words to spill and heave out of you like a waterfall.

You couldn't tell if you hated or loved the way you felt vulnerable and willing to overshare in the atmosphere that he had created, but when Ten gently smiled at you to go on, you decided that things could most definitely be worse.

"This guy was following me, and I didn't know where to go, so I tried to shake him off and realised that I was near your house and then I got scared and tried to call you and you picked up and well. I didn't know where else to go." The words tumbled out of your mouth, and you couldn't stop yourself from rambling.

"Hey. Are you alright?" Ten inched closer towards you, setting his open palm facing upwards on his thigh, inviting you to hold his hand. As soon as you reached out towards him, he clasped your hand tightly and comfortingly and said nothing for a few moments.

When you spoke, his smile had dropped, and you knew he was trying to hide his shock at the man following you. It was creepy, yes, and you had been so afraid, but you had always kind of known that this was an experience you would go through at least once in your lifetime. However, for a man, this could well have been one of his worst nightmares.

"I think I'm okay now."

#7: His willingness to help.

"You know, I won't be there every time if you're getting chased. You've got to learn how to protect yourself. I can teach you martial arts, if you'd like."

The offer came from nowhere, so you were a little surprised, but also inclined to take him up on it. It really was going to be a problem, and even if it wasn't, it was always good to learn a new skill from someone who's proficient in it.

You nodded numbly.

"Want me to drive you home?" You shook your head, reaching into your pocket for your phone to let your parents know where you were. Knowing them, they were probably worried out of their minds because you hadn't reached home yet.

Sure enough, when your mother picked up the phone, she bombarded you with questions. They were all very well-meaning, like asking you where you were and why you weren't home, and are you okay? You told her that you were at Ten's house, a creepy guy was following you, and you had been deathly afraid but you were all good now.

"Can I stay over at Ten's place?"

Your mum sounded doubtful when she replied, asking about your clothes and your books and where you were going to sleep. She sounded inclined to say no, telling you that you shouldn't overstay your welcome. She made you thank Ten several times, insisting that you leave.

Thank goodness for Ten, who charmed your mother into listening to him and agreeing to let you stay overnight. He assured her that you could borrow his younger sister's clothes and that not to worry, she was overseas and wouldn't mind.

Your mother told you to thank him (again) tonight and the next morning when you left his place. You agreed, reminding her that you love her and she hung up.

"Your sister doesn't really live in this house, does she?"

Ten looked at you confusedly. "Where else would she live?"

"I don't know, it just seemed like I'd never seen her before." You shrugged, looking around at the house again. "And, well, it did seem like you lived here all alone, but I guess it's too big of a house for you to manage on your own."

"I assure you that I live with my family. My parents are upstairs right now, and my sister's on an exchange programme right now so she's not in town. The reason they haven't come here is probably because it's a big house and they're busy doing something together. The last activity they were doing was solving a 1000-piece jigsaw puzzle."

Ten's family seemed so chill and easygoing, a stark contrast to what you were used to. Ten brought you up to his sister's room to borrow her pajamas, and you took the chance to take a quick shower, wiping yourself down with a towel you had borrowed.

Afterwards, the manners your parents had ingrained in you caused you to insist that Ten introduce you to his parents, and you apologised for intruding and disturbing their evening.

However, they were absolute sweethearts. His father offered to make some food for you, if you were hungry, and his mother asked if you were quite alright after the ordeal. You insisted that you were fine, but they wouldn't stop worrying until Ten assured them that you're fine.

It was really all very endearing, because your parents fussed in a different way from them, and had never been so open to simply having people over. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last sleepover you had.

Ten brought you up, but his parents wouldn't let you sleep in his room. He brought you to his sister's room, and you fell asleep fitfully.

Image

#8: His proficiency in martial arts

You really misinterpreted what Ten meant by "teaching you martial arts". You thought he meant a chill session and some quick tips on defending yourself, maybe a few corrections. After which, you'd feel badass and ready to tackle any horny, screwed-up in their minds men.

You were dead wrong, because Ten had not meant any of those things.

You were only five minutes in and already drenched in sweat, your clothes sticking to your skin and droplets beading at your hairline. You lifted your arm to wipe the sweat away with your sleeve, and your biceps screamed out in pain, begging for mercy.

It turns out that the reason Ten was so physically fit was because his training routine was rigorous. Not pretentious rigorous, and not the type of rigorous that bodybuilders used to lose fat, either. It was the type of rigorous that strengthened your muscles and pushed them just shy of their breaking point.

If you had to do this every other day, you'd probably be in the best physical shape of your life, which was Ten's current situation.

Ten was determined to make you stronger, because according to him, you "can't defend yourself if you're weak." It was a really polite way of saying that you weren't strong enough to protect yourself, which was a humbling thought.

He told you that you were only going to be doing a warmup, since you were just starting and you had school the next day. ("I want you to be able to walk tomorrow" were his exact words. It was... encouraging to hear that. Not.)

10 minutes in, you were cursing Ten's proficiency in martial arts. And your own stupidity, for agreeing to it. Why had you thought you would be able to keep up with him? He was Ten, your archnemesis, your one and only competitor who could beat you if he tried just a little. Obviously, you never learned from your mistakes.

Ten decided that you should try to punch people first. But not the way that you wanted to.

Instead of cool punches and socking people in the jaw (you're sure Ten got to do that in training, but you weren't Ten), he made you hit your elbows upwards against his padded gloves until the muscles in your arms, shoulders and back that you didn't even realise existed throbbed.

Then, he simply moved on to the next exercise. You never got to throw him over your shoulder like a sack of rice, but you did get to practise almost breaking his arm. A hundred or so times, until you weren't even trying to hit him anymore. He would yell at you to try harder ("Where's your energy?") and then, when you gave him a tired look, lower his volume and say, "Let's try that again."

Again, he was not being unkind, but his focus and seriousness made him a very strict teacher indeed.

The most fun part was when he decided to teach you how to kick a man in the groin. (Not knee them. Because that would take away the advantage of distance, of course. Of course you knew that.)

He lifted his arms up, carefully moving himself out of the "line of fire" and positioning himself diagonally in front of you. Channeling all your rage, tiredness and desire to go home, you kicked your leg out as hard as you could-

And fell right on your butt.

Your butt hurt, but your ego hurt more. Especially when Ten failed to contain his laughter, gasping for air and even choking. Was he trying to be dramatic or was he always like that? It was a far cry from the stifled, polite laughter in class when you laughed at his jokes, but it was endearing all the same.

You couldn't fault him for finding it funny. You were, after all, on your butt on the ground and it was possibly due to your hubris. Maybe being overconfident while trying a new skill wasn't a good idea, especially when you were trying it out with your expert classmate (who maybe wasn’t really your rival anymore).

Ten knelt down, arms wrapping around you from behind as he pulled you to your feet, his warm embrace making you want to fall asleep in his arms.

#9: His back.

Wait... what?

Okay, this definitely wasn't a good idea. Thinking about falling asleep in Ten's arms, in Ten's house, after spending a night over? Yeah, this was a recipe for trouble.

Ten seemed oblivious to how you were feeling, since all he did was continue teaching you a new skill.

“So what if he tries to grab you from behind? Well obviously, if it’s someone you know, you might hug him back. But if it’s a creepy guy? You’ll want to be able to attack him regardless of how he’s holding you.”

To demonstrate, Ten tightly grabbed you from behind. You would have liked to protest, but he grabbed you so suddenly that you lost your balance, falling forwards. Reacting quickly, Ten rolled over and you landed on top of him, hyperaware of his arms and his body heat and the feel of his breath on you.

Your faces were so close to each other that if you moved too quickly, you might just kiss him. Which, honestly, didn’t sound like a bad idea at this point. Your locked arms were the only thing keeping your lips from his. And they were trembling from your exhaustion and the desire to give in to the tired pleas of your muscles.

Ten tried to lift your arm off of him, trying to stand up—which was a terrible mistake. Your elbow immediately gave way, and you crashed onto him, your chest falling onto his. Your heart was racing, and with the proximity, you couldn’t tell if the thumping sound was coming from your heart, or his.

Just before you thought things couldn’t get any worse, Ten angled his face up and whispered in your ear, “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded dumbly and he gently kissed you, so quickly you couldn’t tell for sure if it was intentional. It was the slightest brush of his lips on yours, the brief contact making you yearn for more.

Before you could advance on him any further, he stood up abruptly, one hand carelessly pulling you up.

#10: His pretty face.

Ten’s face was flushed red and you were sure yours was too. He looked away quickly, composed himself, and turned back to you. “Shall we continue?”

Except you didn’t hear him, because you were too busy pressing your fingers to your lips in shock and staring into his eyes.

He waved his hand in front of your face and you jerked back to reality. “Yeah- Actually, no. Let’s discuss this.” You gestured meaninglessly, realised how dumb you looked, and dropped your hand lamely.

Ten looked at you expectantly, clearly waiting for a greater revelation than that.

“Like, me sleeping in your sister’s clothes and you buying me coffee? And—goodness forbid—you flirting with me? And now this? Ten, I thought we weren’t even on speaking terms!”

It was only until the last sentence that Ten’s confusion dissipated, and you realised with a start that the pressure he put on you was very much one sided. To him, it was a friendly rivalry. To you, it was a threat to your pride.

“Y/n, we were always on speaking-”

“Actually, you know what? It’s fine. I’m just confused, but I’ll be fine. Please, continue.”

Ten’s hand reached out and grabbed your chin, tilting your head and forcing you to look at him. “You’re so dense! Is kissing you not obvious enough? Y/n, I like you!”

“I- I don’t understand,” you fumbled, desperately grasping for straws.

“I like you,” he deadpanned. “I don’t know how much more obvious I can make it. Is this not straightforward enough? What more do you want me to do?”

“Kiss me again,” was out of your lips before you could stop yourself, and Ten’s lips were on yours before you could process what you had just said.

“I blame it on that pretty face of yours,” you said as soon as he pulled away.

“Oh yeah?” He tipped his face upwards and laughed, the sound of his laughter as light as a feather. You couldn’t help but to stare at him, the curve of his chin and the tilt of his jaw, his scoff and the way he rolled his eyes at the same time. His cheeks were dusted pink and his eyes fixed themselves on you again.

He flexed his hand, adjusting the wrap around his wrist and you felt the sudden urge to give him a hug.

“I love you, Ten Lee,” you whispered in his ear, and although you couldn’t see it, he smiled, just a little.

glossary:

*这是因为李永钦吗？ (is this because of ten lee?)

**嗯! 我怎么没感觉到自己无意中喜欢上了他呢？ (yes! how could i have unconsciously fallen for him?)

***我很有魅力啊。(i have a lot of charm)

****真不好意思！(how embarrassing!)

#k-labels #ten #kpop fics #xiaojun #wayv #jaehyun #nct #🪁 — my works #fic: ten things i love about lee

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