#and truly. would i ever be fine to have romance again
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
3416 · 11 months ago
Text
"Ah, there it is again. You know, [Marner and Matthews'] what? Third shift together? Reunited. They find each other, just like they do in warmups. They pass all the time the last four or five minutes just constantly back and forth. Know exactly where they're gonna be."
21 notes · View notes
gatun-gatunesco · 2 years ago
Text
...
#that post about meeting people in the wild reminds me what my therapist said#“you should meet another person. after some healing of course” and at that time i did not thought so much about it#i was crying and sobbing so bad for me to process that information#but now that i remembered. how the hell will i do that without using a dating app?#imagining that i am already healed without trauma and willing to open my heart again for someone else#how would i: an asexual neurodivergent introvert. would find a compatible person in the wild? that is kind of impossible!#using a dating app? ugh. that is very wack. i do not know a single person who had a good experience using one of those#and truly. would i ever be fine to have romance again? the remaining romantic love i have is dying#the trauma changed me from greysexual to fully asexual. after years of self hate i was comfortable with my naked body#now that i am sex repulsed. i can not tolerate see my body. even in this hellish heat of summer i must have clothes. showering is a torture#would not be better to be Aroace and that is it? being free of all that partner stuff? just having more friends would not do the trick?#i can try to find a way to change and not want to have physical affection nor physical love. It always brought me trouble#but i doubt my therapist agrees. she was kind of serious about having another person with me#why i am not strong enough to do everything alone? why do i have to be prone to sickness? why the hell do i need physical love?!#is so gross and awful. i hate my body so much. why do you need that fucker? we can hug ourselfs! settle for that
2 notes · View notes
elikajinnie · 2 months ago
Text
Was I Just A Bet? - P.J
Tumblr media
P: Gryffindor!Jay X Fem!Reader
Warnings: Angst, Misunderstandings, Hurt/Comfort, Feelings Realization.
Synopsis: At Hogwarts, you built a reputation for rejecting every romantic advance. Jay, a popular Gryffindor, asks you out on a dare.
masterlist
--
Ever since you were a child, you watched people fall in love—the way their eyes lit up around each other, the way they cared deeply, selflessly, doing anything to make the other happy. It was something you had always longed to feel for yourself. You wanted to experience love, to be someone's first thought in the morning and last before they drifted off to sleep. But as you grew older, no one ever stirred that feeling in you. You waited, hoped, but there was never anyone who made you feel truly seen, let alone loved. And with each passing year, the frustration built.
Eventually, you had enough.
You decided to renounce love, at least from any guy. "It’ll be better this way," you told yourself, over and over again, a mantra each time you passed a couple in the streets or saw friends paired off, hand in hand. Love wasn’t for you, and that was fine. There were other things to focus on, more important things.
Then, the day your Hogwarts acceptance letter arrived, you had allowed yourself to hope. Maybe here, in this world of magic, you could find your place. You could study, make a few friends, and graduate without the complications of love, without boys breaking your heart. It seemed like a simple enough plan.
But life had other plans for you.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
During your first few years at Hogwarts, you built yourself a reputation without even meaning to. Word spread quickly that you were untouchable when it came to romance. Your focus was on magic, your friends, and your studies—nothing else. You rejected every boy who tried to ask you out, and there were more than a few. Some asked you shyly, others with confidence, but your answer was always the same.
“No, I’m not interested.”
At first, your friends teased you about it, telling you to loosen up, to have some fun. But they didn’t understand. You weren’t interested in getting hurt, in wasting time on something that, in your eyes, had become trivial. You had seen enough of your classmates go through the highs and lows of relationships, and none of it appealed to you.
The rejections continued throughout your years. Some boys were persistent, believing they could be the one to change your mind.
They weren’t. Over time, people began to accept it. The offers stopped coming, and with them, the whispers about who might try next.
Your reputation solidified. You were the girl who didn’t date. The girl who couldn’t be won over. To some, that made you a mystery, an unattainable challenge. To others, it made you intimidating. Either way, it didn’t bother you. In fact, it gave you the freedom you’d always wanted. No more awkward conversations, no more rejecting people’s advances. You could focus on what really mattered: honing your magic, learning every spell and potion with a precision that set you apart.
But even as the castle echoed with rumors of your romantic disinterest, you couldn’t escape the moments that gnawed at the edges of your resolve. The fleeting glances in the Great Hall, the flutter in your chest when someone smiled at you just the right way—moments you forced yourself to bury.
By fifth year, no one bothered asking you out anymore.
And yet, despite the peace that should have brought, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing. That even though you’d built this wall around yourself, there was a part of you that wondered what it would be like to let someone in.
It crept in late at night when the castle was quiet, and the fire in the common room flickered softly in the hearth. You’d sit by the window, watching the stars, your friends laughing in the background, and you’d wonder. Wonder what it would feel like to hold someone’s hand, to have someone look at you like you were their whole world, to be vulnerable with someone and not feel like you were losing control.
You always pushed the thoughts away, focusing on your studies or your friends, but the feeling lingered like a shadow. The life you'd crafted for yourself was solid, predictable, but there were cracks. You could feel them. And with every passing day, that nagging voice in the back of your mind grew louder, asking the same question over and over again:
What if you were wrong?
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You were sitting in the Great Hall, laughing with your friends about something silly that happened in class earlier. The chatter of students filled the air, the clinking of cutlery and the low hum of conversation creating the familiar buzz of Hogwarts. You were completely unaware of the conversation taking place just a few seats down, a group of Gryffindor boys exchanging glances in hushed tones.
"I don't know what to do anymore, man. She won't go out with me," one of them, named Lucas, muttered in frustration, poking at his plate. His friends looked at him with a mix of amusement and pity.
"Maybe she just ain't interested," another, Kieran, said with a shrug, clearly stating the obvious.
"Nah, that's impossible. Who wouldn’t date me?" Lucas scoffed, running a hand through his hair like he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
"Many people," a quieter voice added dryly, smirking. "Like her." He discreetly pointed in your direction.
You were oblivious, too caught up in the banter with your friends, smiling as you dipped a piece of toast into your soup. But the boys had their attention on you now, casting brief glances toward your end of the table.
“Bet she’ll date by the end of this year,” Kieran said suddenly, breaking the tension.
The others turned to him, eyebrows raised in surprise. “What?”
“I’m just saying," he continued. "No one stays single forever. Bet someone could get her to go out by the end of this year."
A third boy, Jungwon, shook his head firmly. “Guys, no. We’re not doing anything stupid. You know what they say about messing with people like that.”
"Yeah, don't be thick. We’re not pulling some sort of prank on her,” Kieran replied saracastically, though his eyes glimmered with a hint of mischief.
But Lucas, still stuck on his own bruised ego, leaned back in his seat and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but let’s be real. Which of us would she even accept?”
There was a pause, and the group collectively turned thoughtful. No one spoke for a beat, as if they were sizing each other up. Then one of them muttered under his breath, almost as if he didn’t mean for anyone to hear: “Jay?”
All of their heads turned in unison to look at Jay, a quiet but undeniably popular Gryffindor, who was currently sitting across from them, completely absorbed in his meal. He had been oblivious to their entire conversation, minding his own business as he ate.
Jay had always been different from the others. Where the rest were loud and reckless, he was calm and thoughtful, the kind of person who didn’t seek attention but always managed to get it anyway. His sharp features and easy smile didn’t hurt either, making him someone who easily caught people’s eye, whether they wanted to admit it or not.
Kieran nudged Lucas. “You think he’d have a chance?”
“Maybe,” Lucas said, leaning forward. “He’s the only one who hasn’t tried.”
Jungwon rolled his eyes. “Because Jay isn’t stupid. He’s not going to go along with this.”
Before any of them could say more, Jay finally noticed the attention. He looked up from his plate, fork still in hand. “What?” he asked, sounding more curious than annoyed.
The others exchanged glances, unsure how to even start explaining what they had been discussing. Kieran, never one to shy away from a challenge, decided to go for it.
“We were just… talking about how you’re probably the only one who could get her to go out with someone,” he said, jerking his head toward your end of the table.
Jay followed the gesture, his eyes landing on you for the briefest moment before flicking back to his friends. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said flatly, turning back to his food.
Lucas leaned in, lowering his voice. “No, seriously. She’s turned down everyone. But you’re different. I bet you could—”
“Stop right there,” Jay interrupted, his tone now clearly annoyed. He put down his fork, his usually calm expression replaced with a frown. “You guys need to stop treating her like some kind of prize to be won. She’s not interested, end of story.”
The group fell silent, awkwardness settling between them. Even Jungwon seemed to agree with Jay’s sentiment, nodding slightly.
But Kieran, never one to back down easily, leaned back in his chair, smirking slightly. “What if she was interested in you though? Would you give it a shot?”
Jay hesitated for the briefest moment, his eyes flicking back to you once more. But instead of answering, he grabbed his bag and stood up. “I’ve got better things to do than play these kinds of games,” he said, and with that, he walked away, leaving his friends to stew in their own thoughts.
Unbeknownst to you, a ripple of tension had settled between the boys. But Jay’s words stuck with them, even after he’d left.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
The boys didn’t let it go.
The next few days, every chance they got, they found a way to bring you up in conversation with Jay. It was subtle at first—side comments, casual jokes—but when Jay continued to ignore them, they ramped it up.
"Come on, Jay, just ask her," Lucas said one afternoon while they were lounging in the common room. He had a tone of desperation in his voice, like this whole thing was his last shot at redeeming his bruised ego.
Jay barely glanced up from the book he was reading. "I told you, I'm not interested. Find someone else to mess with."
"She’s not gonna say yes to any of us," Kieran added, flopping onto the couch across from Jay. "But you? You've got a chance, man."
Jay sighed, snapping the book shut and fixing them with an exasperated look. "I’m not asking her out for you guys. What are you even trying to prove?"
The group exchanged glances. There was a beat of silence before Lucas blurted out, "Okay, fine. We made a bet. Happy now?"
Jay raised an eyebrow, looking unimpressed. "A bet."
"Yeah," Kieran continued. "That someone could get her to go out with them by the end of the year. And look, if you do this, we’ll—" He paused, clearly trying to think of an enticing offer. "We’ll do anything. Name it, and it’s yours."
"Anything?" Jay asked, skeptical.
"Anything," Lucas confirmed quickly, leaning forward. "You want help with Quidditch practice? Done. Extra study notes for exams? You got it. Just name it."
Jay leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, watching them with growing amusement. "And what do you get out of it, besides winning a stupid bet?"
Kieran smirked. "Bragging rights, mostly. And maybe the satisfaction of knowing we finally figured out what she wants."
Lucas nodded. "And we’ll stop bugging you about it."
Jay let out a short laugh. "This is ridiculous. You realize that, right?"
Jungwon, who had been quiet for most of the conversation, finally chimed in. "It’s not like we’re asking you to date her. Just ask her out once, see what happens. You don’t even have to mean it. We just—" He shrugged. "We want to see if she’ll say yes to anyone."
Jay's expression shifted, his initial irritation fading as he considered their offer. There was no denying it—he could get almost anything he wanted out of this. And truthfully, he was curious. He’d never thought about you in that way, but the way the others talked about you, with that mix of fascination and frustration, made him wonder. You were untouchable to them, this mystery they couldn’t figure out. And as much as he hated the idea of using someone to win a bet, part of him was intrigued by the challenge.
"Anything, huh?" Jay repeated, making them all sit up a little straighter.
"Anything," Lucas echoed eagerly.
Jay was quiet for a moment, then finally, with a resigned sigh, he nodded. "Fine. But I’m not doing this for your bet. You guys owe me—big time."
Lucas grinned, slapping Kieran on the back. "Done. Whatever you want, mate."
Jay rolled his eyes, already regretting his decision. He wasn’t one to play games like this, but if getting them off his back meant asking you out once, it couldn’t be that bad, right? He just had to approach you, see what happened, and that would be the end of it. Simple.
But something about it felt anything but simple. You weren’t just some random girl, after all. You were smart, independent, and completely uninterested in dating. You had turned down every guy who had approached you, without even a second thought. And while the others were too focused on their bruised egos to see it, Jay could sense that there was more to your refusal than what met the eye.
As the group dispersed, leaving Jay alone with his thoughts, he found himself wondering—if he did ask you out, how would you respond? Would you see right through him, knowing it wasn’t genuine? Or would you surprise everyone, including him?
One way or another, he was about to find out.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
The days following their agreement were relentless. The boys wouldn’t let up, bugging Jay every chance they got about asking you out. Every time they passed him in the hall or caught him during meals, they’d throw out some comment about “the bet” or nudge him about “getting it over with.”
“You haven’t done it yet, right?” Lucas would say, leaning in with that expectant smirk.
“C’mon, it’s not that hard. Just ask her,” Kieran would add, like it was the simplest thing in the world.
Jay did his best to brush them off, but eventually, it became clear that they wouldn’t stop until he went through with it. He wasn’t sure why he was so hesitant. Maybe it was the way they were treating it like a game, or maybe it was because you were different from the others they’d approached before. But either way, Jay knew he had to get it over with.
Then, one afternoon, the golden moment came. You were sitting by yourself in the courtyard, your bag leaning against the stone wall as you flipped through a book, your focus entirely on whatever you were reading. Jay, spotting his chance, took a deep breath and walked toward you, trying to push aside the strange nerves building in his chest. He wasn’t usually nervous around people, least of all girls, but something about this felt different. Maybe it was because he knew you wouldn’t be easily impressed. Maybe it was because, despite his intentions, he was genuinely curious about what you’d say.
As he approached, you looked up, your gaze meeting his. He saw a flicker of surprise cross your face, probably because you weren’t used to him talking to you. For a brief moment, Jay hesitated, but then he forced himself to speak.
“Hey,” he said casually, shoving his hands into his pockets.
You raised an eyebrow. “Hey.”
He could feel the weight of your stare, sizing him up in that same quiet, thoughtful way you always had. Jay wasn’t like the others who had come to you with grand gestures or awkward flattery. He didn’t try to impress you with rehearsed lines. Instead, he simply looked at you and said, “I know this is probably not your thing, but I was wondering if you’d want to go out sometime. Just… I don’t know, grab a butterbeer or something?”
For a moment, you didn’t respond. You just looked at him, your gaze steady, but Jay could tell you were actually thinking about it. You didn’t reject him immediately like you had with the others. There was something in the way your eyes flickered over him—taking in his composed, relaxed posture, the sincerity in his voice. It caught you off guard, maybe because he hadn’t come across as desperate or pushy. He was just… asking.
But eventually, after what felt like an eternity, you shook your head softly, a small, almost apologetic smile on your lips. “Sorry, Jay. I don’t really do the whole dating thing.”
Jay wasn’t surprised, but something in the way you said it made him feel like it wasn’t as easy for you to reject him as it had been with the others. There was a pause, and then you added, “But… thanks for asking.”
He shrugged, offering a half-smile. “No worries. Figured I’d give it a shot.”
And with that, he walked away, no drama, no hard feelings. He didn’t seem upset, just accepting. But as he left, you found yourself watching him go, your thoughts lingering on him longer than you expected. Jay was different from the others. He hadn’t made you feel pressured or uncomfortable. And while you had rejected him, part of you wondered if it might have been a mistake. You watched him until he disappeared from sight, a thoughtful look crossing your face.
When Jay finally returned to his friends, Lucas and Kieran were waiting, their eyes lighting up with anticipation. “Well?” Lucas asked, leaning forward. “How’d it go?”
Jay shrugged, sitting down on the bench beside them. “She said no.”
“That’s it?” Kieran frowned, like he couldn’t believe it was that simple. “You just walked away?”
“What else was I supposed to do?” Jay shot back, his voice calm but firm. “I asked, she answered. End of story.”
But his friends weren’t satisfied with that. Over the next few days, they kept at him, pushing him to try again. “Come on, Jay. You can’t just give up like that,” Lucas would say. “You’ve gotta try harder. She didn’t outright reject you, right? There’s a chance.”
Kieran would join in too, nudging Jay with a grin. “Maybe she’s just playing hard to get. One more try, and I bet she’ll say yes.”
Jay, however, had had enough. He shook his head every time, rejecting their ideas. “I did what I promised,” he said firmly. “I’m not doing it again. It’s done.”
But something had changed. Even though Jay refused to entertain their pestering, he couldn’t help but keep an eye on you more than before. He didn’t know why, but he found himself watching you when you were in the common room or when you passed by in the halls. He wasn’t interested in winning any stupid bet anymore, but there was something about you that had stuck with him.
You were different from what he had expected—stronger, more thoughtful. And now, every time he saw you, he couldn’t help but wonder what was really going on behind those quiet, steady eyes.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
It happened so quickly that you barely had time to process it. One minute you were walking down the corridor, minding your own business, and the next thing you knew, a strong gust of wind rushed behind you, practically shoving you into an empty classroom. The door slammed shut behind you with an unsettling finality.
You spun around, eyes wide, reaching for the handle, only to find it locked tight. Panic briefly flared in your chest, and you tried again, jiggling the handle harder this time. It wouldn’t budge.
“Great,” you muttered under your breath, giving the door one last shove before finally stepping back. That was when you noticed you weren’t alone.
Jay stood at the other end of the room, frozen in place, staring at you with wide eyes. He looked just as surprised as you were, a book in his hand and several parchment scrolls spread out across a desk near him. It was clear he hadn’t expected this any more than you had.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, still trying to wrap your head around the situation.
“I—uh—was just helping Professor Flitwick with some charms work,” Jay stammered, glancing around the room as if trying to figure out how you’d both ended up in this position. His brows furrowed, and he took a few cautious steps toward the door. “Did someone lock us in?”
You crossed your arms, sighing. “It feels like it.”
Jay tried the door, tugging at the handle with just as much frustration as you had, but it didn’t budge. After a minute, he gave up, turning to look at you with a resigned expression. “I guess we’re stuck.”
There was a beat of silence as the reality of the situation set in. There was no getting out anytime soon, and the room was completely empty except for the two of you. With a sigh, you walked over to one of the desks and sat down, resting your arms on the surface. Jay hesitated for a moment before following suit, taking the seat across from you.
For a while, neither of you spoke. The room was filled with silence, punctuated only by the faint sounds of the castle’s distant creaks and murmurs. Jay shifted awkwardly in his seat, glancing at you occasionally, while you stared at the desk, trying to figure out how to handle this.
Then, after what felt like forever, Jay cleared his throat. “So… this is awkward.”
You snorted despite yourself, glancing up at him. “Yeah, you could say that.”
There was a brief pause, and then Jay spoke again, more softly this time. “Look, I didn’t ask for this, and I’m guessing you didn’t either. But since we’re stuck here… maybe we could just talk?”
You raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to humor him. But something in Jay’s expression—his genuine attempt to break the tension—made you decide to give it a shot. After all, it wasn’t like you had anything better to do.
“Alright,” you said, leaning back in your chair. “What do you want to talk about?”
Jay smiled, relieved, and for the first time since you’d met him, you saw a spark of warmth behind his usual laid-back demeanor. “Honestly, anything. You know, I don’t think we’ve ever actually talked before. Like, really talked.”
You shrugged, giving him a slight smile. “Not much of a talker, I guess.”
Jay chuckled, nodding. “Fair enough. But I’m curious. You’re always so put together, like nothing rattles you. How do you manage that? Doesn’t anything ever get to you?”
You blinked, surprised by the question. No one had ever really asked you that before. And certainly not with the kind of sincerity Jay was showing now. For a moment, you considered giving a vague, dismissive answer, but something about the quiet intimacy of the room made you feel like it was okay to let your guard down, just a little.
“I guess… I’ve learned not to let things get to me,” you said slowly. “People expect a lot, you know? So, I just stopped caring what they thought.”
Jay nodded thoughtfully, leaning his elbows on the desk as he listened. “That makes sense. But it’s gotta be exhausting sometimes, right? Keeping that wall up.”
You hesitated, glancing down at your hands. “Yeah… sometimes.”
You were quiet for a while after that, but the tension had eased. Jay wasn’t trying to pry, and you appreciated that. The conversation shifted into lighter topics, and soon enough, you found yourself laughing at one of Jay’s stories about a disastrous Quidditch practice that had gone hilariously wrong. It was easy, natural. He wasn’t trying to impress you; he was just… being himself. And you realized, much to your surprise, that you actually enjoyed talking to him.
The laughter died down, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. Jay leaned back in his chair, a soft smile still lingering on his lips. And then, without warning, he looked at you with a seriousness that hadn’t been there before.
“You know, I wasn’t going to bring this up again,” Jay began, his voice quiet, “but since we’re stuck here, and you don’t seem to hate me…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly before meeting your eyes. “What if I asked you out again? For real this time. No bets, no pressure. Just… a date. What would you say?”
You could feel your heart racing in your chest as you considered his offer. Part of you wanted to retreat, to protect yourself like you always had. But another part—the part that had been curious about Jay ever since that first conversation—was tired of being so guarded.
So, after a long moment, you took a deep breath and did something you hadn’t done in years.
You smiled at him, genuinely, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll go on a date with you.”
Jay blinked in surprise, as if he hadn’t expected you to say yes, but then his expression softened into a warm, almost disbelieving smile. “Really?”
“Really,” you confirmed, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nervousness.
And just like that, for the first time since you were a child, you allowed yourself to step out from behind the walls you’d built. You didn’t know what would come next, but for the first time in a long time, you were ready to find out.
The conversation between you and Jay eventually faded into a comfortable silence, but the reality of your situation remained—you were still locked in the classroom. That is, until Jay suddenly sat up straight.
"Wait," he said, his face lighting up with realization, "I have my wand."
You blinked at him, momentarily stunned by how obvious the solution was. "You’ve had it this whole time?"
Jay rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, pulling his wand out of his pocket. "Yeah… sorry about that."
With a flick of his wrist and a muttered charm, the door clicked open. You stood up, crossing the room toward the door, but something caught your eye near the floor—your own wand, lying forgotten. You must have dropped it when you’d been shoved into the classroom. Picking it up, you felt a wave of relief wash over you.
“Nice work,” you said, flashing Jay a teasing grin as you stepped into the corridor. The castle was quiet now, most students in their common rooms or already asleep.
Jay walked out after you, looking a little embarrassed but smiling nonetheless. “I’ll do better next time.”
You raised an eyebrow at him. “Next time?”
Jay’s eyes widened, but he quickly recovered. “I mean… for the date. If that still stands.”
You found yourself smiling again, that rare, genuine smile you hadn’t used much in recent years. “Yeah, it still stands. We’re still on for butterbeer.”
Jay grinned, and for a moment, he looked more relieved than anything. “How about next weekend? Hogsmeade?”
You nodded. “Sounds good. The Three Broomsticks?”
“Yeah, perfect,” Jay said, his smile growing wider.
There was a brief pause as you both stood there, not quite knowing how to end the conversation, but eventually, you gave him a small wave. “See you then.”
“See you,” Jay replied, his voice carrying a hint of excitement as he turned and walked down the corridor, disappearing around the corner.
When Jay finally found his friends, they were sprawled out in the common room, looking like they were waiting for him. As soon as he stepped in, they all jumped up, expectant looks on their faces.
“Well?” Kieran asked, barely able to contain his excitement. “What happened?”
Jay leaned against the wall, a small, satisfied smirk on his face. “She said yes.”
The room erupted into chaos. Lucas threw his arms up in victory, and Kieran did a little celebratory dance. Jungwon clapped him on the back, grinning like mad.
“I knew it!” Kieran shouted. “I knew she’d say yes eventually!”
“Best day ever!” Lucas added, punching the air. “Jay, you’re a legend!”
Jay rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the grin on his face. Still, he held up a hand to quiet them down. “Alright, alright, keep it down. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”
Kieran, who was practically bouncing on his feet, looked confused. “Wait, why? This is huge!”
Jay’s expression softened slightly. “I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want her to think it’s some big joke, alright? So, let’s keep it quiet.”
Lucas and Kieran exchanged glances before nodding. They owed Jay that much—after all, they’d bugged him relentlessly, and he’d finally succeeded.
“Fine, fine,” Kieran agreed, still grinning. “We’ll keep it quiet.”
Jungwon gave Jay a more serious nod of approval. “Good call, man. Don’t worry, we won’t mess it up for you.”
Back in your own dormitory, things went down a little differently.
As soon as you told your friends about the date, they exploded into a frenzy of squealing and excited chatter. You hadn’t even finished the sentence before one of them screamed.
“Wait, you said yes?!” your friend Eliza shrieked, her eyes wide with disbelief.
You nodded, watching as the other girls jumped up from their beds, surrounding you with beaming smiles.
“I can’t believe it!” Hannah exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “We thought you’d never say yes to anyone!”
Another friend, Layla, stared at you in shock. “You rejected Jay the first time, though. What changed?”
You shrugged, feeling a little overwhelmed by their excitement. “I guess… I realized he’s different from the others. He wasn’t just trying to ask me out because of some dare or whatever. He actually seems to care.”
Hannah squealed again, nearly jumping up and down. “This is amazing! You’re going to have so much fun.”
Eliza grabbed your hand, shaking it as if the excitement was too much to contain. “This is huge! You have to tell us everything afterward, okay? Every detail!”
You chuckled softly, feeling a little embarrassed by all the attention. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll tell you. But it’s just a date. No big deal.”
Layla shook her head, still smiling. “Are you kidding? It’s a huge deal! You’ve been saying no to everyone for years. This is… this is a breakthrough!”
The room buzzed with happiness, and while you didn’t say much more, you let them have their moment. They were excited for you, and deep down, you were starting to feel the same.
For the first time in a long time, you had let someone in, and instead of feeling vulnerable, you felt something else—something almost thrilling.
And as your friends squealed and planned outfits for your upcoming date, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.
Maybe, just maybe, letting someone in wasn’t so bad after all.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
The news of your date with Jay spread faster than a wildfire through Hogwarts, much to your dismay. You had hoped it would stay between your close circle of friends and his, but that was clearly wishful thinking. By the time Monday rolled around, whispers followed you down the corridors.
People were talking—about you.
“Did you hear she went out with Jay?”
“She said yes? After rejecting everyone for years?”
“I thought she wasn’t into anyone… Guess Jay must be something special.”
You ignored most of it, focusing on your classes and trying not to let it bother you. It wasn’t like you hadn’t dealt with attention before, but this felt different. Now, instead of just admiring glances or half-hearted attempts to ask you out, people were actually speculating about your private life, and it was unsettling.
It didn’t help that some of the guys you’d turned down in the past were less than pleased to hear about your date with Jay.
One afternoon, as you were making your way to the library, you felt eyes on you again. It was a group of boys, some of whom you had rejected before. They were leaning against the stone walls in the corridor, their voices low but clearly directed at you as you passed by.
“Well, look who it is,” one of them muttered, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Guess she’s not as untouchable as we thought.”
You kept walking, trying to ignore them, but another voice piped up. “Yeah, I thought you weren’t into anyone. What, Jay’s better than us now?”
That made you stop. You turned to face them, your heart pounding in your chest. “It’s not like that,” you started, trying to stay calm. “Jay—he’s just…”
But before you could finish, one of the boys, a Slytherin you’d turned down last year, stepped forward with a sneer. “What’s so special about him, huh? You rejected everyone else, but he gets a free pass?”
You felt a flare of irritation rising in your chest. “This isn’t any of your business,” you said sharply. “I can go out with whoever I want.”
The Slytherin smirked, crossing his arms. “Yeah, we get that, but don’t pretend like you’re above us just because you finally said yes to someone. It’s a bit hypocritical, don’t you think?”
Your stomach twisted with frustration, and you took a step back, wishing more than anything that you hadn’t stopped in the first place. Just as things started to escalate, a familiar voice cut through the tension.
“Is there a problem here?”
You turned to see Jay walking toward you, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as he glanced at the group of boys. The shift in the air was immediate. The guys who had been giving you a hard time suddenly seemed less confident, their smirks fading as Jay approached.
“Jay,” the Slytherin started, his voice faltering slightly, “we were just—”
“You were just what?” Jay interrupted, his tone steady but firm. He stepped closer, standing beside you in a way that felt protective. “Trying to make her feel uncomfortable? Or are you upset because she didn’t say yes to you?”
The boy opened his mouth to retort but quickly closed it, looking flustered. His friends were already backing away, clearly not wanting to get involved now that Jay was there.
“No, man, we were just talking,” another one muttered, shrugging as if the whole thing had been a misunderstanding.
Jay didn’t seem convinced, but he didn’t push it. Instead, he turned to you and gave you a reassuring look. “You alright?”
You nodded, still a little shaken but grateful for his timing. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Good.” Jay looked back at the group of boys, his expression unreadable. “I think we’re done here, don’t you?”
Without another word, the boys scattered, disappearing down the hall without so much as a backward glance. The tension in the air lifted, and you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
Jay turned back to you, his demeanor softening. “Sorry about that,” he said quietly. “You okay? I didn’t mean to jump in like that, but it looked like they were giving you a hard time.”
You managed a small smile, feeling a surge of appreciation for him. “No, I’m glad you did. Thanks.”
He gave you a nod, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before he spoke again. “Look, if anyone gives you trouble about us, let me know, alright? I don’t want you to feel like you have to deal with that on your own.”
There was something in his tone—genuine concern, not just for the situation but for you. It made your chest tighten in a way that wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “I will,” you promised. “Thanks, Jay. Really.”
He flashed you a small smile, the kind that made your heart skip just a little. “Anytime.”
With that, Jay walked you to the library, the earlier confrontation already feeling like a distant memory. You couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, like maybe—just maybe—letting someone in wasn’t such a bad idea after all.
As you parted ways, you found yourself thinking about how easy it had been to accept his help. You’d spent so long keeping your walls up, but with Jay, things felt different. Natural.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
As the weeks passed, the dates with Jay became something you looked forward to—no longer something to be nervous about, but a time to relax and enjoy his company.
Jay had this way of making everything feel effortless. He never pressured you, never pushed for more than you were ready to give. Instead, he created a space where you could simply be yourself, something you hadn’t realized you craved so much.
One chilly afternoon, the two of you found yourselves in the Three Broomsticks again, sharing a butterbeer in your usual corner booth. The fire crackled nearby, casting a warm glow as snowflakes danced outside the windows. Jay was talking about something that had happened in Potions class—a small explosion that left half the class covered in purple goo—and you couldn’t help but laugh at his animated retelling of the chaos.
“Merlin, I wish I’d seen that,” you said between giggles, picturing the scene.
Jay grinned. “It was a disaster. But a hilarious one.” He took a sip of his butterbeer before giving you a thoughtful look. “What about you? Any crazy class stories? You always seem to have things together, though.”
You rolled your eyes playfully. “Oh, trust me, I’ve had my fair share of disasters.” You thought back to a particularly embarrassing Charms mishap during your second year, when your spell went wrong and sent your quill flying across the room, hitting a professor in the face. You told Jay the story, and his laughter echoed through the tavern, making you smile even wider.
It felt so natural, this easy back-and-forth between you. And it wasn’t just laughter. As the days passed, you started to open up about deeper things, the kind of things you had kept buried for years.
One evening, while walking back to the castle from Hogsmeade, the topic turned to your past, to why you had been so guarded for so long. The night was quiet, snow crunching under your boots as you made your way up the path.
Jay looked at you, his expression soft but curious. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but… I’ve always wondered. Why didn’t you want to date anyone before?”
You hesitated for a moment, but something about the way he asked—gentle, without any pressure—made it easier to answer. You took a deep breath, watching your breath form little clouds in the cold air. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want to date anyone. I guess… I just didn’t trust it. I’d seen so many people fall in love and get hurt. And I didn’t want to be like that. Vulnerable.”
Jay was quiet for a moment, processing what you’d said. “I get that. But… not everyone gets hurt, you know? I mean, yeah, love can be risky, but it can also be worth it.”
You smiled softly, appreciating his perspective. “I’m starting to see that.”
⋆⭒˚。⋆
Jay had never been the type to get too caught up in feelings. He was easygoing, the guy everyone liked because he kept things light. When his friends had first dragged him into the bet, he went along with it more for the fun of watching them scramble than anything else. And yeah, he’d admit it—he enjoyed the perks of having them do favors for him, running around trying to make sure he didn’t give up too easily.
At first, it was simple. Ask you out, get you to say yes, and then maybe after a few dates, he’d call it quits. That was the plan. He didn’t expect to actually like you beyond the challenge. It was all supposed to be a joke, something to laugh about later with his friends.
But then the first date happened. And something shifted.
You weren’t like anyone he’d ever spent time with before. You were sharp, independent, and you didn’t let people in easily. He respected that. At first, he thought you were just closed off, that you had a wall around you because of past experiences. But during that first butterbeer, when you opened up just a little, he saw a glimpse of the real you—someone with layers, someone with a mind full of thoughts and a heart full of untold stories.
And it hit him—he liked you.
It had only been one date, and already, he felt a pang of guilt. He had no idea it would get this far, no idea that this wouldn’t be some simple, fleeting fling. And suddenly, his initial plan—dating you for the sake of a bet—felt like a dirty little secret. He hadn’t expected to care, hadn’t expected to enjoy your company the way he did.
But then came the second date. And the third. And each time, instead of feeling like he was closer to ending things, he found himself wanting more.
By the fourth date, he was all in. The guilt lingered, gnawing at him, but there was no denying it anymore: he was falling for you. Hard.
He started noticing everything about you—the way you smiled when you thought no one was watching, how your eyes sparkled when you talked about something you were passionate about, and the quiet strength you carried with you. Jay wasn’t sure how it had happened, but somewhere along the way, this had stopped being about the bet. It had become real.
One evening, while the two of you sat by the lake, watching the sky turn shades of pink and purple, Jay found himself thinking about all of it. About how wrong it was in the beginning, how his intentions had been shallow. But more than anything, he couldn’t stop thinking about how much he had changed since that first date. He had been pretending to care at first, but now… now he didn’t have to pretend at all.
He wanted to be with you. For real.
Sitting beside you, Jay turned to look at you, his heart heavy with unspoken words. He wasn’t sure how or when he would tell you the truth about how this all started, but he knew one thing for certain: he couldn’t lose you now.
“Hey,” he said softly, breaking the comfortable silence between you. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
You looked at him, curious. “What is it?”
Jay hesitated, the words catching in his throat. He wanted to confess everything right then, to tell you about the bet, about how it had all started as a game, but also about how real it had become for him. But he couldn’t do it. Not yet.
“Just that… I’m really glad we’re doing this,” he said, his voice sincere.
You smiled at him, a soft, genuine smile that made his chest tighten. “Me too.”
For a while, you both just sat there, side by side, watching the light dance on the water. The quiet seemed to settle in around you, creating a little bubble where it was just the two of you and nothing else mattered.
Then, a sudden cold breeze swept through, causing a shiver to run down your spine. You instinctively pulled your robes tighter around yourself, but it wasn’t enough. Without even thinking, you scooted closer to Jay, drawn to the warmth of his body. Your shoulder brushed against his, and you could feel the heat radiating from him, a contrast to the chill in the air.
Jay glanced over at you, noticing the movement, and a small smile played at the corner of his lips. “Cold?” he asked softly.
You nodded, rubbing your arms to warm yourself up. “A bit,” you admitted with a soft chuckle, trying not to focus too much on how close you were sitting now.
Without a word, Jay lifted his arm and draped it casually around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. The gesture was natural, as if it had been something he’d wanted to do all along. His warmth enveloped you, and you relaxed against him, letting the tension in your body ease.
“There, better?” he asked, his voice low, almost teasing, but there was a gentleness behind it.
“Yeah, much better,” you replied, leaning into him just a little more. The cold was still there, but it didn’t bother you as much anymore—not with Jay so close, his arm wrapped securely around you.
For a few minutes, the two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other’s warmth as the night settled in around you. It felt… right.
You glanced over at him, your gaze meeting his. There was something different in the way he was looking at you tonight—something deeper, more intense.
Neither of you spoke, but slowly, Jay shifted closer, his hand finding yours and lacing your fingers together. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver up your spine, and your breath caught as his thumb gently traced circles on the back of your hand.
He looked down at your joined hands, then back up at you, his eyes dark with something you couldn’t quite place. "I’ve wanted to do this for a while," he murmured, his voice low, almost hesitant.
Your heart raced, and you swallowed, the tension between you growing thicker. “Do what?”
Jay didn’t answer with words. Instead, he leaned in, closing the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a tentative kiss. The world seemed to slow in that moment, the soft press of his lips against yours igniting a fire that had been smoldering for weeks.
You melted into him, your hand tightening around his as you responded to the kiss, a rush of warmth spreading through you. His other hand gently cupped your cheek, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, turning from soft and hesitant to something more urgent, more intense.
Jay’s fingers slipped from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you even closer as his kiss grew more heated, more desperate. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, and without thinking, you reached up, your fingers tangling in his hair.
A soft groan escaped Jay’s lips as you tugged lightly, and in response, he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the heat of his body through your robes, the way his chest rose and fell with each ragged breath. His hand slid down your back, finding its way under your robes, his fingers brushing against your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.
Your head spun as the kiss intensified, and for a brief moment, you tried to pull back, needing air, needing to catch your breath—but Jay wasn’t having it. With a low growl, he pulled you back, his lips crashing against yours once more, more desperate than before.
“More,” he mumbled against your lips, his voice thick with want. “More.”
His hands roamed over your body, caressing you through the layers of fabric, as if he couldn’t get enough.
When you tried to pull back again, needing just a second to breathe, Jay’s grip on you tightened, his fingers digging into your waist as he pulled you impossibly closer. His breath was hot against your lips as he murmured, “Don’t stop. Please. Just… more.”
Your heart raced, your mind spinning with how much you wanted him, how much you needed him in that moment. Every time you pulled back, he was right there, pulling you in again, kissing you deeper, his hands exploring every inch of you as he whispered “more” over and over, his voice heavy with desire.
You didn’t know how long the two of you stayed like that—wrapped up in each other, kissing like you’d been starved for it, for each other. Time seemed to blur, and all you could feel was the heat of his body pressed against yours, the way his hands felt against your skin, the way his lips moved against yours with a need that matched your own.
When you finally managed to pull back, gasping for air, your foreheads rested together, both of you breathing heavily. Jay’s eyes were dark, filled with a longing that made your stomach flip. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just stared at you, his thumb gently brushing against your swollen lips.
And then, in a voice so quiet it was almost a whisper, he murmured, “I’m falling for you. Hard.”
You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest, and for the first time, you realized that the walls you had built around yourself weren’t just crumbling—they were gone.
“I think I’m falling for you too,” you whispered back.
Jay smiled softly, his hand still tangled in your hair as he pulled you in for another kiss, this one slower, sweeter.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
The library was your sanctuary—a quiet place where you could escape from everything. You were there to gather a few books for your assignment, your mind focused on Potions and Charms, anything to keep yourself productive. The familiar scent of old parchment and ink surrounded you, and the soft sounds of pages turning from students studying filled the space.
You were reaching for a book on a high shelf when you heard voices from the other side of the bookshelf. Normally, you would’ve tuned out background noise, but something in the conversation caught your attention. It wasn’t loud, but it was just close enough to make out the words.
"Is Jay really dating her?" A girl’s voice. The tone had a hint of disbelief, as if she couldn’t quite understand the idea.
Your fingers paused on the spine of the book as your stomach tightened. You told yourself it wasn’t worth eavesdropping. That you shouldn’t care. But something kept you rooted in place.
"Nah, he isn’t for real," a boy’s voice responded. The casual tone in his voice made your heart race. "He made a bet with Kieran and Lucas."
The words hit you like a blow to the chest.
You froze, your mind reeling. A bet. You stood there, motionless, feeling like the ground had just been ripped out from under you. The voices continued talking, but you couldn’t hear anything else after that. The buzzing in your ears drowned out everything else as you struggled to make sense of what you’d just overheard.
It felt like the world tilted, your thoughts racing as you replayed every moment with Jay in your head. Every conversation, every laugh, every kiss. Was it all part of a game? A cruel joke?
You didn’t want to believe it. But there it was—the truth laid bare by careless words spoken in a dusty corner of the library. It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. You’d never let yourself get this close to anyone for this exact reason, but Jay had somehow slipped through the cracks of your defenses. And now, everything was crumbling.
The voices moved on, the conversation shifting to something trivial, but you remained frozen in place. Your heart pounded in your chest as anger and hurt swirled inside you, your thoughts muddled and spinning out of control.
Slowly, you lowered your hand from the bookshelf and stepped away, your head spinning. You needed air, space to think. You needed to be anywhere but here, surrounded by the suffocating silence of the library.
You pushed past the shelves and made your way out, the noise of students chattering and studying blending into a blur. The only thing you could focus on was the betrayal clawing at your chest, the feeling of being played—by the one person you had let in after so long.
The memory of Jay’s smile, his gentle touch, the way he looked at you like you were the only person in the world… Was that all part of the game too?
You thought back to that night by the lake when he kissed you for the first time, when he told you he was falling for you. Was that a lie too? Had any of it been real?
Your heart pounded harder with each step as the pain built, a lump forming in your throat. You needed to find Jay, confront him, get the truth from him directly. You deserved that much, at least.
As you rounded the corner into the courtyard, your eyes immediately found him—Jay sitting with Kieran and Lucas, the same ones who had apparently been part of the bet. They were laughing, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you. The sight made your blood boil.
Without thinking, you marched over, the fury in your chest rising with every step. You could feel their eyes on you as you approached, the laughter dying down, replaced by confusion as they noticed the look on your face.
"Hey," Jay started, his voice light, as if nothing had happened, as if your whole world hadn’t just shattered.
You didn’t give him a chance to say more. "Was it a bet?" you asked sharply, your voice trembling with anger. You didn’t waste time, didn’t dance around the question. You needed the truth, and you needed it now.
Jay’s smile faltered, his expression shifting from confusion to concern. "What?"
"A bet," you repeated, your voice louder now. "Was I just a bet to you, Jongseong?"
His friends exchanged glances, and Kieran shifted uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding your gaze. Jay’s face went pale, the blood draining from it as he realized you knew. You could see the guilt written all over his features, the way his eyes darted from you to his friends, as if searching for a way out of this. But there was no way out.
"Tell me," you demanded, your voice shaking with fury and hurt. "Tell me the truth, Jay."
He stood up, his hands held out in front of him as if to calm you down, but it only made you angrier. "It’s not—look, it wasn’t supposed to—"
"Answer the question!" You cut him off, your voice loud enough to make heads turn from nearby students. You didn’t care. The world could burn for all you cared in that moment. All you wanted was the truth.
Jay let out a shaky breath, his eyes filled with regret, but it was too late for that. "Yes," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It started as a bet. But I—"
That was all you needed to hear. Your heart broke in an instant, the crack so deep it felt like it would never heal. The sting of betrayal cut sharper than any spell, sharper than any pain you had ever felt.
You took a step back, your entire body trembling with the force of your emotions. "You used me," you said, your voice cracking, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill.
"No, it wasn’t like that," Jay pleaded, his eyes desperate now, stepping toward you, but you took another step back. "I swear, it wasn’t supposed to be like this. I didn’t mean—"
"But you did," you snapped, cutting him off. "You made a choice. You played with me like I was just some game, some prize to be won. And I fell for it. I fell for you."
The pain in your voice must have hit him, because Jay’s face crumpled, his hands falling to his sides. "I didn’t know it would turn into this," he said softly, his voice breaking. "I didn’t know I’d fall for you, too."
You shook your head, unable to believe anything he said now. "But it doesn’t matter, does it? Because I can’t trust you anymore. I can’t trust any of this."
Jay took another step forward, reaching out as if to touch you, to make you stay. "Please, just let me explain—"
You shoved him back, your hands shaking. "No. We’re done, Jay." Your voice was final, the weight of your words sinking into the silence that followed.
His friends, Kieran and Lucas, stood up, shifting awkwardly, guilt written all over their faces, but you couldn’t care less about them. You pushed past them, not even bothering to look back as Jay called your name, his voice thick with heartbreak.
"Wait!" he shouted after you, his voice cracking with desperation. "Please, just let me explain—"
But you didn’t stop. You couldn’t. You shoved through the crowd, the tears you had been holding back finally spilling over as you made your way through the courtyard, your heart shattering with each step.
Behind you, you could hear Jay’s friends trying to comfort him, but their voices faded into the background as you walked away, leaving him standing there, devastated and broken. But that wasn’t your concern anymore. Jay had made his choice, and now you were making yours.
You didn’t look back. You couldn’t.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
The news that you and Jay had broken up spread like wildfire, igniting whispers and speculation throughout Hogwarts. By the next day, it seemed like everyone knew, and yet, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought—it was your pain, your heartache, and no one else could feel the weight of it the way you did.
Your friends rallied around you, their support constant and unwavering. They sat with you at meals, made sure you were never alone in the halls, and listened when you needed to vent. They didn’t press you for details, only offering comfort and reassurance whenever the hurt became too much to bear.
But despite their kindness, there was a part of you that remained hollow, a wound that couldn’t be healed overnight. You’d loved Jay—deeply, unexpectedly, against all your defenses. And now, that love felt like a weight you couldn’t shake, like a burden you carried with you no matter how much you tried to push it down.
You focused on school, throwing yourself into your studies with a renewed intensity. If you could just keep busy, maybe you wouldn’t have to think about him—about how much you missed him, despite everything. You wouldn’t let this break you.
But every once in a while, when you walked past the places you used to sit together, or saw him from across the Great Hall, the hurt would flare up again, raw and painful. It took everything in you not to look back, not to let yourself fall into that sadness that lurked beneath the surface.
Jay, on the other hand, was struggling. The smile that once lit up his face had faded, replaced by a hollow expression that even his closest friends noticed. He hadn’t spoken much to Kieran or Lucas since everything came out—they knew better than to approach him, especially after the guilt of what they’d done. Instead, Jay gravitated toward the friends who had always had his back, like Jungwon.
But even around them, he was different. His usual charm, the confidence that once radiated from him, was gone. He wasn’t cracking jokes like he used to, wasn’t the center of attention like before. He was just… broken.
Everywhere he went, it seemed like there was some reminder of you. The places you used to hang out together, the sound of your laughter still echoing in his mind. He hadn’t expected to care this much. In the beginning, it had been a game—a bet that had spiraled out of control. But somewhere along the way, he had fallen for you. Hard.
Now, every time he saw you, it felt like another knife in his chest. He watched you from a distance, seeing you surrounded by your friends, trying to act like everything was fine. He hated himself for what he’d done, for the hurt he caused. He hated that he’d ruined the best thing that had ever happened to him.
Jungwon would sit with him, trying to pull him out of his thoughts, but it didn’t help. Nothing did. Because all Jay could think about was you—how much he missed you, how much he wished he could turn back time and change everything.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
As the Yule Ball approached, the atmosphere at Hogwarts shifted. Excitement buzzed through the halls, a constant reminder of the impending event. Students adorned their robes in bright colors and practiced their dance moves, whispers of who was going with whom filling the air. You had initially planned to attend with your friends, but as the weeks passed, it became clear that they were all pairing off with their significant others.
One by one, you watched them receive their invitations, see their faces light up, and hear their laughter echoing through the halls. It was bittersweet, a reminder of how alone you felt, especially since your breakup with Jay. As the date drew closer, the thought of being a third wheel began to loom larger in your mind, making you reconsider going at all.
You walked out of Charms class, lost in thought about how to politely decline attending the ball. Maybe you could just stay in your common room with a stack of books, avoid the heartbreak of watching couples dance together while you nursed your own wounds.
But as you rounded the corner, your heart nearly stopped when you came face-to-face with a shy Ravenclaw, his cheeks flushed and his eyes darting nervously to the ground. He was a quiet boy you’d spoken to in passing but never really knew well.
"Um, hey," he stammered, scratching the back of his neck. “I was, uh… wondering if you’d like to go to the Yule Ball with me?”
Time seemed to freeze for a moment as you processed what he was saying. He looked genuinely hopeful yet equally terrified. You could see the way his hands trembled slightly, his expression a mixture of anticipation and fear of rejection. It was sweet, really. And it tugged at something inside you, a flicker of warmth you hadn’t felt in a while.
You hesitated, considering your options. On one hand, you could accept, and it would mean you wouldn’t have to be alone at the ball. But on the other, you weren’t sure if jumping into a date was the best way to move on from everything with Jay. Still, you didn’t want to shut yourself away completely.
After a long moment of silence, you decided that maybe going with someone new could be a step toward healing. “Sure,” you said, forcing a smile that felt slightly wobbly. “I’d love to go with you.”
His face brightened, relief washing over him. “Really? That’s awesome! I’ll, um, get us some butterbeers later to celebrate?”
“Sounds good,” you replied, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement.
As you parted ways, you felt a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. You knew this wasn’t going to fix everything, but maybe it was a start. A small step forward.
But as you made your way back to the common room, you couldn’t shake the thought of Jay. You wondered how he was handling everything, how he was feeling about the ball. Would he be going? Would he be with someone else, smiling and dancing while you tried to enjoy yourself with a new date?
⋆⭒˚。⋆
The night of the Yule Ball arrived with a flurry of excitement, and you could hardly contain your nerves. You and your friends gathered in your common room, laughter bubbling between you as you helped each other with last-minute touches. You slipped into your beautiful long-sleeved dress, the fabric hugging your figure just right and flaring slightly at the waist. The color complemented your skin tone perfectly, and the matching heels gave you an added height that made you feel more confident.
Your hair was elegantly pinned up, delicate flowers clipped in to add a touch of whimsy. As you applied the finishing touches of makeup, you glanced in the mirror and couldn’t help but smile at your reflection. You felt beautiful, ready for the evening ahead.
“Wow, you look stunning!” one of your friends exclaimed, making you blush.
“Thanks! You guys look amazing, too!” you replied, your excitement building.
Once you were all ready, you made your way out of the common room and down the winding staircase toward the Great Hall.
When you reached the entrance to the Great Hall, you spotted your date, the shy Ravenclaw boy, standing nearby in a sleek dress robe that fit him well. He looked nervous but flashed you a warm smile as he approached.
“You look incredible,” he said, his cheeks reddening slightly as he took your hand, guiding you forward.
“Thank you! You clean up nicely too,” you replied, your heart fluttering with the thrill of the moment.
As you stepped into the hall, the decorations took your breath away. Twinkling lights hung from the ceiling, and the atmosphere was alive with music and laughter. You could see groups of students dancing, chatting, and enjoying themselves, but your gaze was drawn elsewhere.
You scanned the crowd, your heart racing for a different reason now. You were searching for Jay.
You scanned the crowd, your pulse quickening as your eyes searched for him. The hall was alive with the shimmer of enchanted lights, the buzz of conversation, and the sound of music swirling in the background.
Then you saw him.
Jay stood with a group of friends, dressed in a clean, perfectly tailored suit. His hair was slicked back, the usual mess tamed into something more refined, which only made him look even more handsome. He looked every bit the heartthrob he was known to be—confident, sharp, and effortlessly magnetic. But what made your breath hitch was the fact that he was already looking at you.
Your eyes locked, and for a split second, the world around you seemed to blur. There was something intense in the way he looked at you, a softness in his gaze that made your heart skip, but also something else—a tension, a simmering heat. You followed his gaze as it flicked from you to your date, Eli, his eyes darkening just a shade. Was that… jealousy? You wondered, your chest tightening at the thought, the way his jaw clenched, and the subtle flicker of irritation in his eyes when they landed on Eli sent a confusing swirl of emotions through you.
The music shifted, signaling the start of the festivities. The champions were first to take the dance floor, swirling gracefully with their dates. You watched, trying to lose yourself in the celebration, but your mind kept wandering back to the boy standing across the room, who seemed to burn his way into your thoughts.
When the champions' dance came to an end, Eli turned to you, his expression warm and hopeful. “Would you like to dance?” he asked, extending his hand.
You forced a smile, pushing aside the jumble of emotions Jay’s presence had stirred up. “Sure,” you replied, taking his hand.
Eli led you to the dance floor, his grip gentle but firm as he guided you through the steps. The music was beautiful, the lights soft and romantic, and everything around you should have felt perfect. Eli was kind, polite, and sweet. He held you with a respectful distance, his movements smooth and practiced. He was everything you thought you wanted—until now.
Because as you moved through the motions of the dance, something was off. You tried to focus on Eli, on the moment, but your heart wasn’t in it. You looked at him—his bright eyes, his easy smile—and felt a pang of guilt. He didn’t deserve this, because deep down, you knew.
Your heart wasn’t his.
It still beat for someone else. For Jay.
You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing over your shoulder, searching for him again. And there he was, still standing with his friends, his eyes locked on you. But this time, the jealousy was more evident, etched into his expression as he watched you dance with someone else.
The realization hit you hard, like a wave crashing over you. You had tried to move on, to push Jay out of your heart after everything that had happened, but it hadn’t worked. No matter how much you wanted to deny it, your feelings for him hadn’t faded. They were still there, pulsing beneath the surface, undeniable and raw.
Eli spun you around, his hand warm against yours, but your mind was miles away. You couldn’t keep doing this. Not to yourself, and not to Eli.
As the song came to a close, Eli smiled at you, clearly pleased with the dance. But you couldn’t return the smile fully, not when you were so conflicted inside.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his brow furrowing in concern.
You nodded, but it was a lie. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… thinking.”
He didn’t press, but the disappointment in his eyes was hard to miss. Still, he squeezed your hand, ever the gentleman, and led you back toward the edge of the hall. But as you followed him, your gaze drifted back to Jay once more, your heart aching with the realization of what you really wanted.
The Yule Ball began to shift into a more relaxed atmosphere as the night wore on. The formal dances gave way to a more carefree kind of celebration, with students letting loose and enjoying the music that filled the Great Hall. The tension of the earlier part of the evening dissolved, replaced by laughter and movement as friends grouped together on the dance floor.
You found yourself in the midst of it, surrounded by your friends, swaying to the music and laughing at the jokes they made. For the first time in what felt like ages, you allowed yourself to relax, to let go of all the stress that had been weighing you down.
Your friends were fully immersed in the fun, pulling you into their dances and twirling you around. It was hard not to get caught up in the energy of the moment. You danced without a care, letting the music drown out your thoughts and the laughter of your friends fill your heart.
But as much as you tried to lose yourself in the music, there was still a lingering thought in the back of your mind. Jay. You hadn't seen him for a while now, though you knew he was somewhere in the hall. It was impossible to ignore the way his eyes had followed you earlier, the weight of his gaze like a presence you couldn’t shake.
"Come on, have some fun!" one of your friends called, pulling you back into the moment. You smiled, pushing thoughts of Jay aside, at least for now.
You twirled around, your dress spinning with you as the music grew louder, the crowd of students around you caught up in the same carefree energy. For a while, it was easy to get lost in the atmosphere, to let the magic of the night sweep you away. You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in days, maybe even weeks.
The music thumped softly in the background as you spun one last time with your friends, a wide smile plastered on your face. The night had been more fun than you'd anticipated, and for a while, you had managed to forget everything that had been weighing on you. But after hours of dancing, you began to feel the tiredness creep in, your feet aching in your heels, and a faint dizziness from all the excitement.
You laughed, out of breath, and excused yourself from the group. “I need a break,” you said, flashing a sheepish grin. They waved you off with good-natured cheers, still caught up in their own fun.
Eli, your date for the night, noticed you leaving and approached you before you could disappear. You offered him a smile as he walked up, looking as polished as ever in his sleek robes.
“Hey, Eli," you began, your voice soft, "I just wanted to say I really appreciate you asking me tonight. It meant a lot, especially with everything going on—”
But Eli stopped you with a gentle hand raised. He smiled, though there was a touch of sadness in his eyes. “You don’t need to explain. I understand.”
You hesitated, feeling a flicker of guilt. “Eli, I—"
“It’s okay,” he said kindly, cutting you off again. “You’ve been through a lot, and I don’t blame you for still having feelings for him. You don’t need to apologize or explain yourself.”
His words were a relief, but they also made your heart ache a little. He had been so thoughtful and understanding throughout the night, and you had hoped you wouldn’t hurt him.
“Thank you,” you murmured. “For everything.”
He smiled again, the weight of understanding hanging between you. "Go on, then," he said, giving you a small, encouraging nudge. "Take the night for yourself."
With one last grateful nod, you left the Great Hall, the sound of music and laughter fading behind you as you made your way down the dimly lit corridors. The stone walls echoed softly with the distant noise of the celebration as you wandered further from the hall, needing space to breathe, to think.
Eventually, you found yourself in the courtyard. The cool night breeze washed over you, a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the packed hall. You inhaled deeply, letting the crisp air fill your lungs, and walked over to the fountain at the center of the courtyard.
You sat down by the edge of the fountain, taking a moment to collect yourself. Your fingers found their way to your hair, gently undoing the intricate updo your friends had helped you with. One by one, the flowers they had carefully clipped into your hair began to fall into your lap. You plucked them from the strands, watching as they floated in the water, drifting lazily across the surface of the fountain.
There was something calming about watching the flowers drift, their colors bright against the dark water.
As you sat there, you allowed your mind to wander back to the ball, back to Jay. You had seen the way he had looked at you, the jealousy, the regret—his emotions had been written all over his face. And in that brief moment when your eyes had met, something inside you shifted. You couldn’t deny it anymore. You had feelings for him, strong feelings that hadn’t gone away, no matter how hard you had tried to push them aside.
A part of you still hurt, still felt the sting of betrayal from what had happened. But another part of you—one that you were only now starting to fully acknowledge—wanted to fix things, to give him, and maybe even yourself, another chance.
You stared at the water, the ripples distorting the reflection of the stars overhead, and wondered what your next step would be.
⋆⭒˚。⋆
Jay had just returned to the Grand Hall after a brief escape to the bathroom, hoping to clear his head and settle his nerves. The night had been overwhelming, seeing you with someone else and feeling the regret gnawing at his insides. As he re-entered the hall, his eyes immediately scanned the room, searching for you in the sea of dancing students.
But you weren’t there. His eyes darted between groups of people, hoping to catch a glimpse of your dress or your hair, but no luck. His heart sank. He quickly looked for your friends, figuring you’d be with them, but they were too deep in the crowd, completely absorbed in the festivities. A frustrated sigh left him as he slumped back into a chair by the side of the hall.
"Where is she?" he muttered under his breath, his mind racing with thoughts of what could have happened, why you had suddenly disappeared from the hall.
Jungwon sat beside him, quietly observing Jay’s anxious behavior for a moment before speaking. “She’s in the courtyard," he said, his voice calm but knowing.
Jay turned to him, surprise and gratitude crossing his features all at once. "Alone?" he asked, his heart pounding faster now.
Jungwon nodded. "Yeah. She seemed like she needed some space, but if I were you, I'd go talk to her. Now’s your chance."
Without a second thought, Jay pushed himself out of his chair and headed towards the courtyard. He didn’t stop to think about what he was going to say or how he’d explain himself. All that mattered was that you were out there, alone, and he needed to see you, to fix what had been broken.
When he reached the entrance to the courtyard, he saw you sitting by the fountain, your back to him, your head slightly bowed as you released the last few flowers from your hair into the water. The soft light of the moon bathed you in a pale glow, making you look almost ethereal. For a moment, he stood frozen, just watching you.
You looked so peaceful, but at the same time, he could sense the weight you were carrying, the conflict inside you. It pained him to know he had been the cause of it.
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Jay slowly walked towards you. The night air was cool, but he barely felt it—his focus was entirely on you. When he got close enough, he spoke softly, not wanting to startle you.
"Hey," he said, his voice gentle, almost hesitant.
You turned your head slightly at the sound of his voice, your gaze meeting his. For a moment, neither of you spoke. There was a tension in the air, thick with unspoken words and emotions. You could see the uncertainty in his eyes, the regret etched in his expression.
“I... I was looking for you,” Jay admitted, stepping closer. His eyes flickered to the fountain where the flowers floated gently on the water, then back to you.
You sighed softly, your fingers playing with the edge of your dress. “I just needed some air. It was getting too much inside.”
Jay swallowed hard, nodding. He hesitated, unsure of how to begin, how to explain the whirlwind of feelings inside him. "I get it. The ball... everything, it’s a lot."
There was a pause, the air between you heavy with all the things left unsaid. You turned back to the fountain, staring at the drifting flowers, your mind a storm of thoughts. But Jay couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“I never wanted things to end the way they did,” he said, his voice raw with emotion. “I messed up, and I know I hurt you. But I never meant for any of it to happen like this. I didn’t expect… well, I didn’t expect to feel the way I do about you.”
You glanced at him, your eyes soft but still guarded. “And how is that, Jay? How do you feel about me now?”
He ran a hand through his hair, his voice shaking with honesty. “I’m in love with you.”
You stared at him for a moment, his words lingering in the cool night air. It was a confession that you had never expected to hear from him, not after everything that had happened.
Your heart raced as you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. Could you do this? Could you let him in again, knowing what had happened?
“I…” You paused, your eyes flickering down to the flowers still floating in the fountain. “I love you too, Jay.”
The words spilled from your lips softly but with a certainty that surprised even you. The weight that had been pressing down on your chest for weeks seemed to lift, leaving a lightness in its wake. You had been holding onto this truth for too long, trying to deny it, but it was always there, waiting for you to acknowledge it.
Jay’s eyes widened in disbelief, a slow smile spreading across his face as he stepped closer. “You… you do?”
You nodded, finally looking up to meet his gaze. “I do. I was angry at you—hurt—but that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I tried to push it away, but it’s still there.”
Jay exhaled deeply, relief flooding his features. His happiness was so palpable that it warmed you from the inside. “I didn’t think I’d hear that from you again,” he admitted, sitting down beside you on the edge of the fountain. His knee brushed against yours, sending a familiar warmth through you.
There was a comfortable silence as you both sat there, processing the moment. Jay turned to you, his expression softening. “I need to tell you something. I never wanted to hurt you with the bet. It started as something stupid, something I didn’t even care about, but when I got to know you, really know you…” His voice faltered as he swallowed hard. “Everything changed. You changed everything for me.”
You gave him a small, understanding smile. “I know,” you said quietly.
Jay blinked in surprise. “What?”
“Jungwon. He told me before the ball. He said that you never meant for it to get so far, that you didn’t want to hurt me, and he thought I should know the truth from someone else before making any decisions.”
Jay’s eyebrows shot up. “Jungwon told you?”
You laughed lightly, the sound easing some of the tension between you. “Yeah, he did. He’s more observant than you give him credit for.”
Jay let out a short laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe that little sneak.”
You smiled warmly, feeling a sense of comfort that you hadn’t felt in a long time. “He told me what you said to him—that you realized you had real feelings for me. That you didn’t want to lose me over a stupid bet.”
Jay's expression softened. “I didn’t. I really didn’t want to lose you.”
“I know, Jay,” you said, your voice gentle. “And that’s why I didn’t walk away forever. I was hurt, but… I knew you didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”
Jay reached out, his hand brushing against yours. His fingers curled around yours, and you didn’t pull away. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered. “For all of it. I should have been honest from the start.”
You gave his hand a soft squeeze, feeling the sincerity in his words. “I know you are. But let’s not dwell on it, okay? We’re here now. That’s what matters.”
Jay’s eyes shimmered with gratitude as he smiled at you, his thumb gently tracing the back of your hand. “I don’t deserve you.”
You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Maybe not, but you’ve got me anyway.”
His smile widened, and for the first time in weeks, you felt like everything was going to be okay. The hurt, the confusion—it was all fading away, replaced by something stronger, something more real.
“I love you,” Jay said again, his voice filled with warmth. “And I’ll spend every day proving it to you, if you’ll let me.”
You looked at him, your heart swelling with affection. “I love you too, Jay.”
As you gazed up at the sky, the stars twinkling like distant diamonds, you felt a sense of peace. You felt… whole.
But as you marveled at the beauty above, you didn’t notice that Jay was watching you instead of the stars. His eyes were soft, full of something deep and unspoken. He wasn’t in awe of the night sky—he was in awe of you.
Without saying a word, Jay reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand, his gaze never leaving your face. With a flick of his wrist and a subtle murmur, he cast a spell. You were so lost in thought that it wasn’t until you noticed movement from the corner of your eye that you looked down.
The flowers that had been floating serenely in the fountain began to rise, swirling around you like petals caught in a gentle breeze. Your eyes widened in surprise as the flowers danced gracefully through the air, forming intricate patterns before slowly weaving themselves into a crown.
Before you could fully process what was happening, the delicate crown of flowers gently settled onto your head. Your fingers instinctively reached up to touch it, feeling the softness of the petals against your skin. You looked at Jay, your mouth slightly parted in shock.
He was smiling at you—his signature smile, the one that always had a way of making your heart flutter. There was something different in his expression now though, something tender and full of emotion. He had never looked at you like this before.
“Jay…” you whispered, still a bit stunned by the beautiful gesture.
He slid closer to you, the space between you disappearing in an instant. His voice was low, almost reverent when he spoke. “You look even more beautiful now,” he said, his eyes flicking up to the crown before returning to yours. “But to me, you always are.”
You felt a warmth spread through your chest, your earlier surprise melting into a soft smile. “That was… really sweet.”
He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “I meant every bit of it.”
Your breath caught in your throat at the closeness, the intensity of the moment settling between you like a charged current. His touch lingered, and you could feel the soft rhythm of his breathing as his gaze fell to your lips. He wasn’t rushing, just savoring the quiet, the connection that had always been there.
The stars sparkled overhead, but it was nothing compared to the way Jay was looking at you now, like you were his entire world.
Slowly, almost hesitantly, you closed the distance between you. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the thrum of anticipation humming in the air as his lips inched closer to yours.
And then, without another word, his lips met yours in a kiss that was soft, tender, and full of everything unspoken between you. It was a kiss that erased the past, the hurt, and the misunderstandings, replacing them with something deeper. Something real.
The soft kiss between you and Jay slowly deepened, the tenderness giving way to a quiet urgency. His hands, which had been resting gently on your waist, tightened slightly, pulling you closer. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, and it only made the moment more intoxicating.
Just as you thought things couldn't get more intense, Jay shifted, his arms wrapping securely around you as he gently lifted you up and placed you on his lap. The sudden movement caught you off guard, and you let out a squeal of surprise followed by a burst of giggles. Jay chuckled along with you, his forehead resting against yours as he peppered your lips and face with a series of playful, teasing kisses.
"Jay!" you giggled, your laughter echoing softly through the courtyard.
He grinned, his lips brushing over yours again before moving to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, not missing a beat. “What? Can’t help it. You look too cute when you laugh,” he teased, his voice warm and full of affection.
You couldn’t help but smile wider as his kisses continued, your hands gripping the front of his shirt to steady yourself. For a moment, you were both lost in the playfulness of it all, the earlier tension replaced with something light and free. The sound of your shared laughter mingled with the night air, making it feel like you two were the only ones in the world.
When he finally paused to look at you, you noticed the smudges of your lipstick now staining his lips. “Jay…” you said, biting your lip to stop from laughing again. “You’ve got my lipstick all over you.”
“So?” he shrugged casually, still holding you close. “I don’t care.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”
Jay grinned, his hands resting on your hips as he pulled you in for another kiss, completely unbothered by the lipstick now marking his face. “Yeah, but you love it,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a mix of teasing and sincerity.
You couldn’t argue with that. Your heart swelled as you kissed him again, deeper this time, more passionately. His fingers trailed up your leg, sending shivers through you as the kiss became more intense. You felt him smile against your lips again as his hands steadied you on his lap.
Your breath came in short, heated gasps when you finally pulled back, only for Jay to tilt his head, catching your lips again as if he couldn’t bear to be away from you even for a second. “More,” he whispered in a hushed voice, his lips barely leaving yours as he spoke.
You let out a soft laugh, your hands now gently running through his hair, pulling him even closer. “More?” you repeated, your voice light with amusement.
“Yeah,” Jay whispered again, his breathing heavy, eyes half-lidded as he gazed at you. “More.”
After what felt like an eternity of kissing, you finally pulled back with a soft laugh, your fingers tracing the faint lipstick marks that still stained Jay's lips. “Okay, okay,” you said breathlessly, gently cupping his face. “You need to wipe this off.”
Jay chuckled, his hands reluctantly loosening their grip on you. “Fine, if it bothers you that much.” He pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his lips with an exaggerated motion, making you laugh again.
“Much better,” you teased, sliding off his lap with a soft smile. As your feet touched the ground, you smoothed out your dress, adjusting the fabric over your legs. You felt the cool night air once again, and without warning, a shiver ran through your body.
Before you could even react, Jay was already moving. In one swift motion, he pulled off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of it instantly enveloping you. “Here,” he murmured, his voice gentle, “don’t want you to get cold.”
You smiled up at him, touched by his thoughtfulness. “Thanks, Jay.”
He shrugged as if it were nothing, but the small smile that tugged at his lips told you he was happy to help. “Anything for you.”
With his jacket snug around you, Jay slid his arm around your waist, pulling you close as the two of you made your way back toward the grand hall. The night air still carried a faint chill, but with Jay’s warmth by your side, you hardly noticed it. You leaned into him, resting your head lightly on his shoulder, and he welcomed you into his embrace without hesitation.
When you both stepped back into the grand hall, the atmosphere had shifted. The music was softer now, and there were far fewer people on the dance floor. Many of the students had already retired for the night, leaving only a handful still swaying to the music or talking quietly at their tables.
You glanced around, noticing that your friends were nowhere to be seen, but instead of feeling worried or out of place, you felt a sense of peace. It was like the world had shrunk to just you and Jay.
Leaning further into his side, you sighed softly. Jay’s arm tightened around you as he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You okay?” he asked, his voice low and comforting.
“Yeah,” you replied, looking up at him. “I’m perfect.”
As the two of you stood together in the quiet grand hall, Jay turned to you, his eyes soft and full of affection. “Do you want to dance?” he asked gently, his hand already extending toward you.
You glanced around the hall, noticing how the crowd had thinned even further, the music slow and sweet in the background. It was the perfect moment, and you knew it. With a small smile, you nodded, slipping your hand into his. “I’d love to.”
Jay’s face lit up, and he led you to the center of the dance floor. His hands found their way to your waist as you rested yours on his shoulders. The two of you moved together slowly, swaying to the rhythm of the soft music. His touch was gentle, and there was a tenderness in the way he held you, as if he was still savoring the fact that you were back in his arms.
“You look beautiful tonight,” Jay murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. “I don’t think I’ve told you that enough.”
Your heart fluttered, and you leaned closer to him, resting your head against his chest. “I think you’ve made up for it,” you teased softly.
Jay’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, pulling you closer as he rested his cheek against the top of your head. “I’m so glad I have you back,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the music.
You smiled, your eyes closing as you savored the warmth of his embrace. “Me too, Jay.”
(´ 3`)
a/n: Jungwon is next! Then Sunoo, Sunghoon and Heeseung!
575 notes · View notes
yandere-romanticaa · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
An idea that I really like is Ratio falling for someone who is his complete and total opposite in every way imaginable.
He is the kind of person that operates on pure cold logic and facts. He believes in what he sees in front of him with his own two eyes and yes, while it may be fascinating, perhaps even a little entertaining, to philosophize about various unimaginable concepts they are all indeed just that.
Concepts. Ideas. Things made up from the bottom of the bored human psyche.
Veritas Ratio is a man who is able to grasp many, dare he say, possibly every concept he has ever encountered. He loves a challenge but hardly anything is challenging to him because he is such a genius. He devours books that are over a thousand pages long, the most complicated equations of any science are finished by his hand with such ease that many people might mistake him for a machine rather than a man of flesh and blood.
That's what makes it so fun to see him fall for an airhead. A person who probably doesn't care, or doesn't have the mental capacity to care about such things. This person would rather spend their days dallying away, picking flowers, baking, just doing things that are so mundane and plain (to him). If they do decide to read, it is some trashy romance model, maybe even just straight up written porn if they're just that shameless.
And this is the person who has Ratio grabbing his head in frustration.
He's shaking with anger in his room, golden eyes wobbly as he watches you walk up and down the space ship. You got lost, again. How much of an imbecile are you? Do you truly need someone to guide you through everything? With a huff, the scientist grabs his head made of plaster and makes his exist. He puts the mask on and in no time finds you, all lost in the hallways. You hear his upcoming footsteps before you see him and once you turn around, you are greeted with that bizarre mask you've grown so accustomed to.
You greet the man cheerfully, to which he just huffs. With his arms crossed, Ratio gives you a long and detailed lesson on how you ought to be more careful and aware of your surroundings, that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated. You are not a child and should stop acting like one.
Tears swell in your eyes but none are shed as the two of you turn back, him being a few steps ahead of you. Two pairs of footprints sound incredibly loud in this long and dark corridor. Veritas hears you quietly weeping and he feels the slight inkling of guilt pulling his heartstrings.
... Perhaps he was a smidge too harsh with you.
You are a clueless creature, sure. But maybe, he sometimes reveled in that fact. It was wrong and he would never admit it out loud but his heart whispered it clearly to him - you like this.
Veritas watched you carefully through the reflection of the window, the plaster head concealing the expression on his face. With your lips in a full pout and eyes watery like fresh morning dew, he couldn't help but to be just slightly charmed.
He scoffed to himself as he pressed onwards. He figured he had better standards for himself but that was not the case, clearly.
And just like that, he had escorted you back to your room. He could hear you mumble out a quiet thank you, which he acknowledged with a polite nod with his head.
He's not that cruel. Or rude for that matter!
With the situation now swiftly dealt with, Ratio figured it was high time he went back to his studies. He has already wasted far too much precious time on this, he isn't even sure when he'll finish that -
His train of thought is broken when he feels a pair of arms gently embrace him from behind, the warmth welcoming and dare he say sweet.
Veritas stilled, his body like the statue which some saw him to be. You still could not see his face but his anger could still be felt.
"Just what do you think you are doing?" he spat at you, his tone cold but venomous.
He felt your face being pressed against his broad back, fat tears caking his fine clothing. Just as he was about to pry your hands off him, he heard you finally speak:
"Thank you for helping me. Really..."
Your tone was soft and remorseful. You did not want to disturb him but despite that, you did just that. He was willing to accept your apology and have this situation be over with but what you said next simply knocked all of the air out of his lungs.
"You see, I... I wasn't sure how I could get your attention. I just wanted you to notice me, to talk to me..."
.... Goodness.
He was used to people trying to get his attention but to act like such a pathetic damsel in distress was new. He had to give you credit for your creativity, at the very least.
"I want to be your friend. I also want you to teach me all sorts of things-"
Ratio stopped listening to you mid sentence, his mind running hundreds of laps in thought. Perhaps you weren't the idiot he saw you as. Your little ploy worked, clearly. And if he took you under his wing, who knew what would become of you.
He could turn you into a diamond with his own two hands.
It was embarrassing just how giddy the thought made him.
The shadows of curiosity and some other emotions took over his mind as he analyzed the situation. There really was no harm in taking you all for himself.
Besides, if you were capable of this deceitful plan, who knew what else you could do?
He was eager to find out.
2K notes · View notes
kirain · 10 months ago
Note
Wall of the faithless isn't canon in bg3. They changed alot of things actually. So no Gale isn't "scared" he's just an obsessed asshole who doesn't learn from his mistakes.
Oof...
Tumblr media
There's really nothing I can say except: you're wrong. The City of Judgement and the Wall of the Faithless are canon to BG3. If you don't like Gale, that's fine, but you don't have to make things up or completely disregard the lore to do it. Larian Studios literally hired people from Wizards of the Coast—the company responsible for all the canon lore, characters, and campaigns in D&D—to help them with the story. It took them five years, I believe, to fully study and understand the lore. They constantly conferred with the team to double, triple, and quadruple check every slice of content they added to the game, and parts of the game are now considered canon to D&D 5E.
Tumblr media
As for Gale "not learning" from his mistakes ... when you first meet him, he literally admits he made a mistake with Mystra. Though personally I don't see it as the "power-hungry" move people seem to think it is. Gale simply wanted to be considered an equal to his partner (really his groomer), which is a perfectly healthy and normal desire for anyone in a relationship. Your partner should treat you like an equal, but Mystra very clearly saw Gale as a pet. A trophy. A worshipper. Subservient. Beneath her. A silly mortal with delusions of grandeur (which she cultivated), which is really rich when you learn she was once mortal herself. Mystra is a hypocrite.
Tumblr media
Gale tried to prove himself worthy of equality by trying to bring Mystra what he thought was a piece of her missing Weave. For anyone who doesn't know, the current Mystra was torn to pieces by Cyric and Shar, then put back together by her Chosen. Though back to full power by the events of BG3, she's still technically missing pieces of herself, and Gale mistook the Karsite Weave for one of those pieces. Instead of simply telling Gale it was corrupted Weave, she let him go on believing it was hers. Personally I think that's because she was tired of him (maybe he got too old for her 😒) and was hoping he would do something that, in her mind, would justify abandoning him—but I admit that's full conjecture on my part. What is true is that she knew the orb wasn't hers, but for some reason she let Gale think it was. Even after she abandoned him and left him to die, she never told him. Not until she realised she could use him.
Tumblr media
In Act 3, while the argument can certainty be made that he's thirsty for power, Gale ultimately becomes fed up with the gods because, as he knows better than anyone, they treat people like commodities. While I have no intention of ever ascending him myself, it looks like he actually makes good on his word. He doesn't threaten or toy with his followers, he inspires people to walk their own path, he only asks for prayers as payment (as without some form of devotion, gods in D&D cease to be), and if you romance him ... he ascends you into godhood as his equal. Mystra could have done this for him, she just didn't want to. And if you don't want him to ascend, it's genuinely so easy. I don't understand what people are complaining about. It takes one conversation with zero checks to convince him to completely abandon his ambitions. One. If he was truly "power hungry", it wouldn't be that easy.
Tumblr media
Again, I would argue that Gale's true goal isn't really power, it's freedom, and divinity gives him that freedom. He has many conversations where he makes it clear he doesn't want to live under the gods' thumbs anymore; which, in a world like Faerûn, is extremely understandable. As I said in my Wall of the Faithless post, he's scared. Eternal torment for a simple mistake, one of which could've been avoided if Mystra told him the truth or treated him like an equal? When your partner is a goddess, how can you not feel inadequate? And if you convince him to give up the crown, he's perfectly content with Mystra's forgiveness. Even in the Early Access, that's all he really wanted.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Gale's far from perfect. He's arrogant and overconfident and insecure and he can be prone to emotional outbursts (most of which he apologises for, however), but he's nowhere near the heartless, power-hungry monster the haters seem to think he is. He is, in fact, one of the most compassionate companions in the entire camp, to the point that he accepts everyone, including Minthara. He votes for Astarion to stay when you find out he's a vampire. He gets mad at you if you surrender him to the Gur. He's one of the only companions who will openly marry/stay with you if you become a mindflayer. He's willing to sacrifice himself to save the world, and willing to damn himself to be with you. He loves every act of kindness, while hating every act of cruelty. I understand that the bugs from launch ruined a lot of people's perception of him ... and unfortunately some of those glitches are still present even now, but he is a good man.
2K notes · View notes
lushaletta · 1 month ago
Text
the objective and persuasive / theodore nott
pairing: theodore nott x fem!reader
warnings: swearing
summary: a tale of forbidden romance through the eyes of a lovesick theodore nott
a/n: what is this?!?! ivy actually WRITING??? unheard of! anyway.. i still do not have my ipad so my tom riddle miniseries will be on hold for a bit :( i still have more i wanna say for it! in the meantime, you may have some horrible writing in the form of my theodore nott debut! lorenzo zurzolo fine ASFFF okay bye enjoy
Tumblr media
⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.゚ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗
Theodore Nott is very intelligent. Maybe he’s a slacker. Maybe he puts off homework until it’s being collected during class. Maybe he has a bad habit of poor time management. But what Theodore has never been is stupid.
So why is he still here, hopelessly barking up a fruitless tree?
“Please, I just want to be with you,” he’s slurring, drunk on too much whiskey and a side of love.
You cup his face in your hands, wondering how in Merlin’s name you have Slytherin’s smartest boy with his knees on your feet, fingers clinging onto yours. It’s truly senseless; for he knows the circumstance. He knows what will happen if this is taken further. He knows it cannot be.
And yet, his hands drop to your sides, running up and down as they ride up your dress. “It’s impossible, Theo,” you say, matter-of-factly. You’ve always been quite the objective.
You swear his eyes gloss over. “Bella— oh, God, I can’t. Why don’t we make this fucking real? Be my girlfriend already.”
A sigh escapes your plush lips, the smeared makeup on it looking much nicer to Theo knowing it’s he who ruined it.
“Don’t be difficult. For my sake.”
He throws his head down, grip tightening on your hips, “What about my sake? It hurts. It hurts so bad. I just need you.”
“You need sleep.”
Theodore will regret this all in the morning. He will come to his senses and remember all the reasons a relationship with you would be futile. But for now, he’s fallen at your feet, begging like only a fool would.
And it’s hard. So hard to keep your composure. To not pull him up and into your arms and avow him forever.
Your gaze darts away quickly. You’ve had your fair share of alcohol as well and your judgement is beginning to cloud. His face wouldn’t help anything.
“I am yours. I promise. If the issue is that you doubt my loyalty, you don’t have to. I’m devoted,” he drawls, searching your eyes for any sign of weakness. He finds none.
“Theodore, please, get up,” you urge, pulling on his fingers and willing him to stand— to make it all a little less painful.
He’s firm. “Not until we try and make this work. Not until you promise.”
To crumble sounds appealing. You’d rather be the pile of mush on one’s feet than the villain to resist. Your resolve is shattering, piece by piece, with every word that leaves his mouth.
“Theo, we’ve been over this.”
He tightens his grip on your hips. “I don’t fucking care what my father has to say about it! I’ll fucking kill him! I’ll do anything for you to consider me.”
Again, you pull him up, hoping he’ll stand. At first he’s resistant, and then he sees the look you’re giving him.
He’s finally upright, now towering over you and still you don’t feel any smaller. He’d give you control if you only parted your lips to say so.
You clash against him, pulling him in for a kiss he didn’t expect. He half-thought you’d turn him away but with your haphazard attempts at silencing him, he should’ve known. He’s always been quite the persuasive.
Theodore grabs your face, swishing his thumb over your cheek with adoration to rival Romeo’s with Juliet. He’s holding you as if you’re going to disappear.
You scoff at the thought, like you’d ever disappear on him. You’re in knee-deep, letting his right hand travel your back, sending shivers down your spine and heat to your stomach.
“I love you, Theo.”
And while it’s not a promise to try, the man takes what he can get.
278 notes · View notes
yoongihan · 8 months ago
Text
Girl Code - HHJ - OneShot
Tumblr media
pairing: art professor hyunjin x admin femreader
genre: office au, university au, coworkers to lovers, angst, fluff,
romantic trope: enemies to lovers (I DID MY BEST OKAY?)
word count: ~4k
rating: T (for at least one objectifying comment)
warnings: hyunjin in glasses, with paint streaks on his clothes and person; mc is kinda rude to him; someone is actually a horrible person in this; characters drink but everyone is of age; hyunjin is older (about 28), mc is 24; probably some cursing because it's me and cursing is my native language;
a/n: story #5 in the skz as romantic tropes collab with @jl-micasea-fics. this is a little bit of her fault too as when the magic school photos dropped she mentioned hyunjin as an art professor. i chose this trope (e2l) to challenge myself as it's not my regular jam annnnnnd i don't know if i really did it all that well. i did try. please be kind to this chronic f2l writer. i apologize for any typos or mistakes. i am my own editor.
-----
Pretty Privilege.
It’s not a thing you personally have experienced, to your knowledge. Maybe you have. Maybe once amongst your friend group, you were considered the stand out and someone gave you a pass because they liked the way your eyes are shaped, or how you smile with teeth, or whatever.
You’ll allow that.
But generally, you hate that it even exists. Pretty privilege. Isn’t it enough to get to be pretty in this world? Without the world groveling at your feet and simultaneously pushing any obstacle out of the way for you? 
So when Professor Hwang is hired as the new art professor at the university where you admin, you take an immediate dislike. After, at first, the overwhelming surge of attraction because he truly is the prettiest human you’ve ever seen outside of screen. 
Even when your work friends discuss romance, and when Juhye from the Performative Arts department (she has basically the same job as you, just different department) mentions that she thinks he might be interested in her, you join in that yes, he’s very attractive and seems nice, and of course he’d be a great partner for her.
Even if you kind of hate him. 
And since you admin in the same department as he teaches (Fine Arts, obv), it’s your job (according to your friends and the unspoken rules that you really wish were spoken and written down) that you hype her up when he’s in the vicinity. You have to.
Girl Code: requiring you to promote her, and not be too friendly with him because one does not want to violate Girl Code.
Once in undergrad was enough and you would do anything not to experience that ostracization ever again. 
Unspoken rules that make life more difficult that it already is. You feel very much like you hyping Juhye is as subtle as a truck, and in doing so you are as awkward as well, whatever is very very awkward.
“You locked yourself out again?” You do your best not to hiss at him, but in over one semester of him being on the faculty, the man has locked himself out of his Canvas account at least a dozen times.
Hyunjin, Professor Hwang, as he is to his students, gives you the most sheepish smile, and deep down you acknowledge that it’s cute as hell. This man who could be art himself, looking self-conscious that he can’t be trusted with the basics of technology. 
“I know. I don’t know how I do this.” He shrugs, straightening his wire-rimmed glasses. “Isn’t my laptop supposed to save that info for me, so I never have to try and remember?”
“It is.” You think to offer that he can bring his laptop and you can look to see if Google, or whatever browser he uses (probably like Firefox or something equally horrendous), is saving his passwords, but you don’t. Because it’s not in your job description and: “Juhye’s pretty good at that kind of stuff. I’m sure she could make sure it’s doing that. Saving your passwords, login info.”
He hums in lieu of a response, moving from in front of your desk to behind you to see what you’re doing. He doesn’t ask, which makes you bristle, but you’re not doing anything confidential and he’s not really breaking your personal bubble, so you can’t say anything. 
“I’ve never asked,” he begins as though talking to you while you’re working isn’t annoying. “But I assume, this isn’t what you went to school for. Did you study tech…stuff?”
You’re mildly amused that he doesn’t use the official term ‘computer science’. But just mildly. You can still dislike someone and still find them amusing on occasion. 
“No.”
There’s silence, minus the sounds of your typing and mouse-clicking. 
“What did you study?”
You don’t like lying. It’s not a thing you prefer to do in life. You do, everyone does, but you try avoid it as much as possible. So even though you know this might interest Hyunjin and you know you should not interest him, ever, you tell the truth.
“Photography. I mean, I studied business, too, but mostly photography and mixed media art.”
There’s silence yet again.
“Which is why I’m here. In this department.” The silence has become unbearable. 
“Photography?”
He’s going to ask to see something.
“You good at it?”
You turn to look at him. He seems genuinely curious, not like he’s about to pass judgment. But, he’s hard to read. That perfect face can look very RBF according to Juhye (which she thinks just makes him all the more mysterious and sexy) and even blank which gives you less on which to assess him for. 
His hair pulled back in a ponytail and black textured turtleneck make him seem even more aloof, like the rich pretty boy in an anime. 
“My grades and graduating GPA said I was.” You put very little stock into quantifying art and creativity into numbered grades, but you did graduate well enough to please your parents. 
He rolls his eyes. “Oh okay then.” 
God, he’s annoying. 
“Anyway.” You turn back to your computer. “Everything is reset. Your email has the links to come up with a new password. Try to write it down somewhere, or you know, memorize it.”
“No space,” he replies. “No space for memorizing meaningless words and numbers and symbols.”
“Really? What’s your brain full of then? Creative genius?” You don’t even hide your sarcasm.
He laughs. “I hope so. Mostly just images of all the greats I studied. And then my students and what they do. It’s a photo album that never ends and changes order. Often.”
He’s slipping by you toward the door that leads out of the Fine Arts offices. You stare at him, his words lingering. 
“Thanks again,” he says, halfway through the door. He smiles at you, a small one, a polite ‘this is how we socially interact’ type smile.
It’s still so stupid beautiful. You hate it.
At the next day’s lunch, you dutifully let Juhye know about how you encouraged Hyunjin to bring his laptop and technology woes to her and she brightens and preens, and you almost feel like maybe you don’t hate him. 
It’s a small consolation. 
One of the benefits (there are just a few) of working at the school that you attended, in the department you majored in, is use of the facilities. Not whenever you want as the current students and professors get first claim on any studio, extra supplies, or the dark room. 
In two years of working post-undergrad, you’ve learned when the down times, the lesser claimed times were. Certainly not before midterms or finals. Nor right when the semester begins because all the overachievers feel like studio or dark room time will somehow make all the difference. 
But right now, in the in between times, you can book some dark room sessions which encourages you that someday you might ‘make’ it as a professional photographer, that you aren’t losing your skills. 
You’d taken a day to drive up to the nearest mountains to one; soothe your soul with nature (and pollen sadly) and two: take a new set of photos. As with everyone else in the 21st century, you use and manipulate digital photographs as well, but you also do film because it’s its own thing. 
As you turn on the red light bulbs in the darkroom, negatives now fully developed, you smile because film and the process of getting from undeveloped roll of film to tangible photo makes you happy. It’s a comforting process that you can almost do in your sleep. With how late it was when you went to bed last night is a good thing because two cups of coffee is not doing its usual thing. 
There’s a knock on the door of the dark room and your smile immediately drops. 
Damn students (it’s a fruitless grievance because it is their right as they are paying a ridiculous amount for this education, but ugh, it’s annoying to be on the bottom rung of the hierarchy).
“Occupied.”
“I left something in there that I need.”
It’s like every muscle of your body tenses, and every nerve sets alight. 
“Professor Hwang?” Like you need to confirm. 
There’s a pause, like he’s registering your voice before he says your name. 
“Yes, I’ve got the safe lights on, but if you make sure everything is off out there, I can open the door.” Sooner he comes in, the sooner he can leave. 
There’s a low chuckle. “I know the drill.”
You bristle at the patronizing tone.
“Everything is off.”
You open the door and mentally curse him. Even with the lights which you’d considered an unflattering shade of red, he still looks like art. 
Art like a rendition of a fallen angel or romantic vampire with the shadows on his face and red tinge his neck-length brown hair takes on. His glasses are horn-rimmed today, his white shirt pink in the light and sleeves rolled up, black slacks. There are at least three paint smudges on his forearms.
He nods and gives you a polite smile. It’s the most reserved he’s ever been with you, at least since first meeting. You would never describe him as outgoing by any means, but certainly friendly, amiable. He doesn’t hold any of the underlying snobbery of other art professors who have lived so long in the ivory towers of academia and the art world, that any one not well-versed is unworthy of such allowances as kindness or care. 
For all his faults, Hyunjin is not the worst. 
You step back, aware that you are essentially, just staring at him like a moron. He slips in, glances at the negatives out that you’ve just developed.
“Pleased?” he asks as he moves toward the shelves of chemicals and random items (things left and abandoned by years of students and professors - your favorite is a tiny figurine of the black cat from Kiki’s Delivery Service. No one has taken it back, as though left here on purpose by someone in the past six years. He’s the official mascot of this particular dark room and therefore your favorite). 
“Pleased?” you repeat.
“With your work?” He grabs some acrylic paint tubes off the shelf. “What you just developed?”
Now you feel stupid. Obviously that’s what he’s asking about. Not if you’re pleased to see him. That would be stupid. You aren’t. Surely even he can see that.
“Um, not sure.” You return to the film and its small images. You set one image over the projected enlarger so it’s visible to the both of you. It’s not much, a solitary tree, slightly off center in the frame. “Haven’t had a chance to see if it was a total waste of roll or not.”
Even though you don’t look to see him move, you feel him stand slightly behind you to also take in the image. 
You hold your breath for a number of reasons. 
One; because you don’t need to breathe in his cologne which is actually really lovely (so you hate it).
Two; because his nearness is off-putting as he’s not really breaking any social rules by being too close and darkrooms aren’t exactly spacious, but dammit he’s close. 
Three; because you actually want to know what he thinks.
That last one pisses you off the most. You and he don’t dabble in the same medium (he’s painting and drawing; you always stuck with photography, sometimes mixed media) so who is to say his thoughts are at all valuable.
Not that he isn’t skilled. Every professor in the Visual Arts department is, even the ones you dislike the most.
Like him. 
“It’s lonely.”
You flinch at his words, his voice seeming loud in the quiet of the room. 
“Being asymmetrically composed, the tree feels even more out of place and lost.”
You force yourself to continue staring at the project and not turn to see his expression. Because you might show your thoughts and those don’t need to be discoverable by Professor Hwang Hyunjin.
“I like it. Even if it’s a bit out of focus.”
You lean into the projection to see that he is correct. There is a slight blur to the edges, fuck it all. 
You straighten back up. “Intentional.” Not that you moving in and checking it wasn’t a damn giveaway that you are lying like a lying liar, but maybe he’s stupid.
“Ah.”
Maybe a little. Or he lies too. 
“Are you entering any contests or doing a showing?”
Does he truly want to have a normal conversation right now? In the dark room? Alone? When you are working on your own stuff?
You take a few steps away, turning off the projector. 
“I don’t have anything specific in mind. Just keeping a hand in, you know?”
He nods, the shadows lengthening then shortening on his face. “Not that this subject matter is relevant, but you know our theatre department is looking for a photographer? Dr. Kim mentioned it just yesterday.”
“They are?”
“You can do action and work with that type of lighting?”
You work hard not to sneer. “Yes. The photography program here is pretty thorough.”
He shrugs. “I would hope so, though I must admit I know little of Dr. Cha’s work with students. And only the bare essentials of the craft.” He’s smiling, looking far less like a work of untouchable art and more like someone who regularly laughs; at himself and at the absurdity of the world. 
The dried paint on his cheek is wrinkled and breaking with that smile. 
You mentally shake yourself. 
When you don’t say anything, making the silence veer on awkward, he clears his throat. 
“You should apply. I think you’d do well.” He laughs now. It’s silly. “Not that I have much understanding the ins and outs of course, my recommendation is probably worth little.”
“You’d say something?”
“To Kim? Sure.” 
“With one photo?”
He now looks amused. “I’ve seen your instagram, too. Dr. Cha often shares his former and current students’ work and I follow her.” He starts to the door. “I’ll say something.” He holds up the paint tubes. “Thanks for letting me in.”
He opens the door before looking back. “Have a good night.” And disappears through it. 
The room feels strange now. The red hue seems not as striking, and the air carries that hint of piquancy of his cologne.
You do a physical shake of yourself now before returning to make some prints. 
When you see Juhye out for drinks with the rest of your compatriots Friday night, you ask her. 
“Why didn’t you tell me about the theatre photographer position?” She works in the Performative Arts department, even updates the website. Of all people, she would be one of the first to know. 
She’s had about two more cocktails than you which means her eyes take several moments to focus on you. You lean against the bar next to her, waiting. 
“Why would I?”
You bite your tongue to retort. “Because I’m a photographer.” 
She wrinkles her nose, saying your name in the most patronizing tone you’ve heard since high school. “They want professionals.”
You jerk back as though she swung a dagger at you. 
But you try again. Because friends. And Girl Code. “I applied though. Would you say something to Dr. Kim please?”
She takes a deep breath that you can hear despite the loud house music pumping in this bar. “Honey,” The sickly sweetness of the condescension makes you want to gag. “We’re friends and all, but I am not risking my name just because you think you can do something like this. Real friends tell each other the truth.”
As she finishes this quasi-sermon, the bartender produces another drink for her, and a receipt to sign. She does, scrawling also her snapchat username. He takes the slip, makes eye contact with her and smirks before moving to another patron. 
“What was that?” you ask, still processing her apparent disregard for your dreams and talent. “I thought you were ‘in love’ with Professor Hwang?” You are petty enough to do finger quotation marks. 
She rolls her eyes and shrugs, already looking past you for the rest of your group. “I am. But wanting a luxury car doesn’t mean that one can’t ride in a station wagon.”
If you’d had more liquor, maybe you could have thrown up on her as you currently feel ill, both disgusted and horrified. 
To equate humans to cars reeks of objectification and lack of seeing someone as a whole person. 
And you might hate Hwang Hyunjin, but you know he’s more than just a beautiful (on the surface) man. 
Juhye slips by you to find the others as you realize how incredibly shit of a friend she is. Of a person. In fact, you turn to stare at her back in astonishment because you thought you were good at reading people, at sifting through the kinds of people you want to surround yourself with. Juhye has never been someone you were incredibly close to, but you thought she was decent, even if her taste in men was lacking.
“I didn’t know you came here.”
As though your life is a full-on drama, you turn back to see that in her place is Hyunjin. He’s got a martini glass in hand, the liquid a vibrant green. 
“Rarely,” you answer tonelessly, your brain still trying to understand the revelations of the last five minutes. You nod to his drink. “What’s that?”
He grins, alcohol having warmed his smile. “Appletini.”
A surprised laugh exits your mouth before you realize it. You assumed he’d probably drink something like fancy single malt scotch or absinthe (the green). Here he is, this impressive and young art professor, one who has had an extolled art showing in the last year (you might have researched him some when you realized how much you hated him), drinking the equivalent of Apple Jacks in a martini glass. 
His smile is a little cute.
He isn’t wearing glasses right now, which is a shame, but his t-shirt and jeans give him less of that art prof vibe, and more of the cute guy you meet at a bar. 
“Good?” you ask, finding yourself bewildered and amused.
He nods emphatically, offering it to you as though you’re friends who share.
You shake your head, even though you sort of want to. 
“Thank you. I should go.” It might be the lighting, but he looks way too cozy with his hair tucked behind his ears, the wind from outside making it tousled. 
You look around to see Juhye and several of your friends over at a booth. They are watching with piercing eyes. 
Juhye whispers to another.
You feel it. The momentary terror of doing something wrong, the violation of the code in talking to your friend’s crush.
“Before you do.” He sets down his drink, inching a bit closer to you. “I talked to Dr. Kim. About the job? I can’t say for sure, but I think he was definitely looking forward to talking with you about it. I showed him your series with the cyclists by the Han River, from your insta. One of my favorites of yours.” 
You feel your eyes itch all of a sudden, a sudden tightness in your throat. You force back the tears that threaten. 
“I…thank you.”
His smile gets even bigger, his eyes nearly squeezed shut in his joy. 
You need to go. Like now. 
“Of course. What are friends for? Or at least, coworkers.” He giggles. 
Friends. The spike of anxiety lessens. Because you know what real friendship is. And it’s not in whispers and unspoken rules and carelessness. 
It’s thoughtfulness, it’s giving without asking for anything back. 
“If you get the job, I expect you to buy me a drink.” His playful words make you tense all the more, because you see it. You see how kind he is.
He sees you.
“I’m kidding,” he says almost as quickly. “I just–”
“I know.” You meet his eyes and smile though you imagine it’s more teary than warm right now. “I’ll definitely buy you another appletini if I get it.”
There’s no RBF right now. Only sparkling eyes, turned up lips, and kindness. 
And you need to go.
“Sure. Um, bye.” You race out of there like being chased by a supervillain. 
It’s the end of the school year, and even though you still work during the summer (a lowly admin’s job is never done), you feel the excitement.
Because you’re changing departments. After photographing and doing promotional shots of the university’s spring musical, Dr. Kim wants you on staff full-time, to capture all of the Performative Arts department; the classes, the productions, even the silly open mics that the students and professors do every month. The website, the newsletter, the alumni magazine; all have a credit of yours by the time May ends. 
You feel like maybe you haven’t been treading aimlessly post-university as much as you thought. 
“So,” Hyunjin says, before taking a sip of his luminescent green cocktail. He leans on his elbows across from you. “We aren’t in the same department any more.” There’s a pout at the end, a small, silly thing that makes you roll your eyes, but deep down, you think it’s (he) is adorable. 
“I know. You’ll have to bug someone new when you forget your password. Again.”
His pout doesn’t leave. “They might be nicer to me.”
In the months that followed that night at the bar, you decided to apologize to him. It was in his office, when he was sorting through papers and you were nearly on your way home for the day. You had succeeded in avoiding Juhye and him for three days when you got the email from Dr. Kim for a quick interview. 
So you stopped by to thank him, then apologize for being rude.
“You hated me? Huh. I thought you were just kind of grumpy. It’s cute.”
To say you were simultaneously both flattered and outraged (he’d not even been offended, once?) would be understatement. 
He likes to tease you about it now.
“But to go back to my original thought,” he continues, reaching out to steal a fry from your plate. “No longer in the same department. We’ll have to try and see each other instead of just happening to run into each other.” He raises one eyebrow at you.
“Yeah. Ugh, are you a clingy friend?”
“Not really.” He pauses, taking another drink before setting it back down. “I am…a little bit of a clingy boyfriend.” 
You’re holding your breath again. 
You can acknowledge that you and Hyunjin aren’t just coworkers, he’s not your enemy (if he ever was) anymore. You’re definitely more friends with him than anyone else from work (you’ve pulled away from Juhye and her little group and honestly, you don’t miss them). 
Being friends, being friendly and open with Hyunjin has its own drawbacks because now you have to contend with how lovely a person he is; how talented, funny, goofy, and compassionate. Which makes it difficult. When you hated him, he was easy to keep at a distance.
Now that you like him, you might really like him.
“Uh, we aren’t dating.”
“What do you call this?” he asks, nonplussed that he’s brought up your entire relationship as a topic of conversation, as though you’re discussing the weather, or the latest student’s project. He points at your mostly empty plates, his martini glass, your half-full gin and tonic. Then he points at you and then himself.
“I’m paying though.” Spring in academia is a sprint to the finish and though he’d been joking about you owing him a drink if you got the job, you are currently owning up to it now that the semester is over. 
“So? Is it only a date if I pay?” He tsks at you. “I thought you were a feminist.”
Your glare doesn’t have the same bite as it used to. It’s too fond. 
“This is a date?”
He leans across the table, adjusting his glasses as though it’ll help him see you better. Even with familiarity, you still feel a bit overwhelmed by him. 
“I want it to be.”
There is no policy about coworkers dating at your university, just that professionality reigns at the school. There is no reason why you and Hyunjin cannot date. Even though you often feel like professors are on another level compared to the administration. 
He’s not even that much older than you. 
Perhaps it’s remnants of being so worried that you might break ‘Girl Code’ if you’re at all nice to him because of Juhye’s ‘claim’ that you are hesitant. Maybe you need to acknowledge that he is so much more than what you or Juhye reduced him to in the beginning.
Maybe you realize that you have been ‘dating’ him awhile without even comprehending it.
Maybe you also lean across the table, letting your lips brush against his stunning ones (if you painted like him, those lips would probably show up in a piece) and hear his soft exhale as though he relaxes. Because he realizes it too.
You like each other. A lot. 
His soft kiss in return gives you actual heart flutters.
“I guess I don’t mind a clingy boyfriend. Especially one who is still marked with paint on a date.” You point to the streak of white at his jaw. 
He takes your hand in his, gaze dropping to look at his drink, but his smile can’t be hidden.
“Good.”
---
(c) yoongihan 2024. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans.
566 notes · View notes
bonny-kookoo · 9 months ago
Text
Jungkook
Green | Part 2
Tumblr media
"I don't jump around like that!"
Tags/Warnings: Bunny hybrid! Single dad!Jungkook, Fox hybrid!Reader, strangers to lovers, Fluff, romance, major fluff, crayons and frogs
Length: 2.5k Words
-> Masterlist
There is no taglist for this fic.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
“Is it bad timing?” You ask over the phone, whine Jungkook can be heard fighting a fierce battle against his little toddler, who’s clearly currently winning.
“No- Minji-“ he starts, before he addresses you. “Not- not No towards you, you never call during a bad time, I promise, I always want to talk to yo- Minji come on now!” He sighs, little girl having escaped his lap again- refusing to bend to her father’s only wish. “I promise I want to talk to you. Minji is just..”
“Having one of those days?” You giggle, and he smiles to himself.
“I guess so.” He admits. “She wants to go out and play, but I can’t get her into her outdoor clothes.” He sighs, before he runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, you called because you wanted to chat and all I do is complain-“
“no, no no its fine, really.” You dismiss, truly not offended at all. “I uh.. I’ll let you battle your daughter for now. You can.. uhm, we can.. I don’t know. Talk later maybe.” You offer, and he looks at the phone a bit upset.
“I..” Well, there’s nothing there to apologize for. He’s not sorry he’s in his situation, neither is he sorry who he is or what his daughter is- it’s just an unfortunate situation you’re both in. “..yeah. let’s talk later.” He agrees, and you quietly say your goodbyes, making his heart hurt quite a bit.
Just because he’s not sorry, doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel guilty.
Minji seems to notice his shift in emotions quite quickly, quietly reaching for her outdoor pants again that he’s been trying to put on her these past twenty minutes or so- now obediently trying to put them on herself, though she does reach for his hands to get him to help her quite quickly. And even while dressing her, jungkook can’t help but think.
Will you ever be able to accompany him and his daughter out like that? Push the swing she sits on, hold her hand when he’s got his full? Maybe.
Maybe not.
All he knows is that once he’s at the playground, sitting on the bench alone again to watch the little toddler play in the sand with another prey hybrid kid, he feels as if he could be the one to throw a tantrum any second now.
Crying out, begging for the world to just let him have you.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Minji is happily walking through the mall with her dad, holding his hand tightly as to not get lost, when suddenly, as Jungkook has stopped to look at an interesting discounted product in the shelf, he can feel her tug a little as she seems interested in something as well now. “Hm?” Jungkook wonders without taking his eyes off the value pack of baby wipes, before he looks down at his daughter, who’s staring somewhere, one hand prodding at her mouth absentmindedly. “What’re you looking at, hm?” He wonders, looking into the direction she does, when he spots it.
Or rather, you.
You’re wearing simple clothes, clearly not out to impress anyone but just to get what you need, but he can’t deny that you’re still appealing like this, even though you’re not even wearing makeup from what he can see. Your fluffy tail is slightly swaying from side to side as you put something into your shopping cart, unaware of being watched.
Jungkook is curious. It seems like you must’ve made an impression on his daughter- because she appears to recognize you, most likely by your striking features. And while she’s still clinging to him, her interest in you is obvious.
As if you can feel eyes on you, you turn a little to lock eyes with Jungkook- who waves a little, before urging Minji to do the same- but at the obvious sign of being spotted, she instead hides behind his legs, as if that would protect her from the danger of you- even though there is nothing to fear. You wave back, and Jungkook can see that you’re masking your disappointment over the little girl still clearly feeling some form of natural fear.
“Come, let’s go say hi.” Jungkook tells his daughter, who looks visibly troubled by that proposal, torn between natural fearful instincts, and her inner curiosity. Suddenly however, it seems that her decision has been made- as she makes a sound of protest, slipping around his legs to attempt to walk off, if it wasn’t for Jungkook grabbing the back of her wintercoat in the last second. But she’s eager, whining in complaint- and only now does he realize, you’ve walked off, probably thinking that would be for the best.
But not for Minji.
Remembering the dinner, Jungkook has an idea on how to maybe solve this clearly frustrating issue for his daughter- picking her up easily, to walk after you as you’re now standing in front of a large collection of different tubs of ice cream. “One might think you’re the prey trying to escape.” Jungkook jokes, and the second you look at him, clearly worried, he feels his heart jump.
Because his plan is working.
The fact that Minji is now in close contact with her father gives her an intense boost of confidence- hands reaching out for you now, curious eyes fixated on your actual face now, no longer avoiding eye contact. It makes you both a bit intimidated but also hopeful that maybe, this is a sign that with a bit more work at familiarizing yourself with her, there might be a chance.
“Hello.” You greet, careful not to move too quickly, though the little hybrid girl is clearly not that jumpy anymore, giggling happily when she notices your tail wag behind you, hitting the metal shopping cart- pointing to it to show her father, who’s smiling just as much about it. “I didn’t mean to run off- just.. Thought, I don’t know.” You stumble over your words a little, but Jungkook reassures you.
“It’s fine, really. I don’t wanna.. Stall your shopping trip either. Just.. We both wanted to just.. See you, I guess.” He says, while his daughter becomes a bit fidgety, wanting to get down again. “Minji baby if I put you down you gotta stay close though.” He gently scolds her, simply receiving a sound of protest.
You’ve noticed this as well- the fact that she pretty much doesn’t talk, whenever she’s aware that people are watching. She only ever babbles with her father, but that’s to be expected. Most prey hybrids are very withdrawn and shy, so its already surprising she appears to be very much okay with you so close already. And the second he puts her down, she’s already running off-
Though not very far, as she instead happily holds onto your tail, even laughing when you look at her with eyes wide open, completely surprised.
“I’m so sorry-” Jungkook starts, but you shake your head, smiling, and waving him off.
“No, no-” You reassure. “I’m.. Happy.” You nod, carefully looking at Minji who’s running her hands through the fur of your tail, shyly grinning up at you before she lifts your tail to hide herself, making both you and Jungkook laugh.
Maybe she’s just not that scared of predators?
But that suspicion is instantly debunked as two wolf hybrids casually walk past you both to get to pay for their things, making the little bunny hybrid instantly jump back to her father, clinging to the fabric of his pants.
So why is she alright with you?
“Would you.. Like to come over sometime?” You ask Jungkook, fidgeting with your hands a little nervously. “I.. You know. Just for some.. Casual chatting. Maybe cake? I can bake pretty well.” You rant, and Jungkook looks at Minji.
“You wanna visit Dad’s friend with him?” He asks her, and she looks at you, thinking- before she nods, reaching for something in Jungkook’s shopping basket, before she drops it in your cart- and on closer inspection, it’s a small pack of frog-themed hairclips. “Oh? You don’t want them anymore?” He wonders, but his daughter shakes her head.
“..for me?” You ask, and she nods, smiling before she runs behind her father again, curiously poking her head around his body as if to play hide and seek with you. “Well.. Not what I’d usually go for, but they might look nice. What do you think?” You ask Jungkook, who’s caught off guard for a second, having to look away a bit bashful, nodding.
“Y-yeah! I mean, anything would suit you, since you’re really pretty..” He rants, nervously licking his lips before his tongue plays with the piercings of his bottom lip, unsure how to act. This isn’t exactly what he expected- but it’s also a surprising turn of events that makes him happy.
“..thank you..” You respond, before you wave at the little girl, moving to do the same towards her father-
But Jungkook instead hugs you goodbye, unable to help himself in that moment.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━
When you open the door to your apartment, Minji is very wary.
It’s to be expected- it's not just a new environment, but it also smells entirely of you- a predator hybrid, her natural enemy of sorts, at least in instinct. So it doesn’t shock him, and neither you, that she’s clinging to her father, stuffed animal in her arm while the other one clings to her father’s pantleg. But one look at you does seem to make her perk up- ears suddenly standing tall and turned towards you, shy smile on her lips while she grins into her dark green frog-plushy. “Hey. We’re a bit late-” Jungkook apologizes, but you just wave him off, letting them both inside with a smile.
“No bother, you texted me after all, so I was prepared.” You tell him, inviting them both into your living space that’s fairly small, but clearly yours. It’s vibrant, a bit chaotic, but overall a home, and not just a place you exist in. The little girl looks around already, most likely having her attention caught by all the decoration, pictures on the walls and colorful interior design you have. Jungkook also notices two awards hung up on the wall near the TV in the living room- and he’s reminded of your profession again, giving him an idea on how to coax his little girl out of her shell again.
“Hey, do you wanna know something cool?” Jungkook asks, squatting down in front of his daughter who looks at him, ears pointing towards him in curiosity. “Dad’s friend can draw really well. Maybe if you ask her nicely, she can show you?” He proposes, and at that, Minji looks over at you, who seems caught off guard- but you instantly walk to open a small room- an office that looks pretty chaotic, obviously the place where you work.
The shelves are full of books of all sizes and colors, but what seems to catch Minji’s attention the most, is a familiar bookcover- the same she has had for quite a while now, green frog family something she remembers very easily.
“Wait- you’re the author?” Jungkook wonders, holding one of the multiple little picture-books in his hands, the specific one Minji is looking at a new one she’s not seen before.
You nod. “I didn’t know she read that one.” You giggle. “This uh.. It's the new one that’ll be published next month. You can look at it if you like.” you tell her, well aware that she most likely can’t read it yet, but probably enjoys looking at the pictures anyways.
“Well, she doesn’t read, really..” jungkook chuckles, watching his daughter carefully stare you down while she picks up the book, something brewing in her brain with the way her ears move so distinctively. “she mostly looks at the pictures, and makes up her own story.” He explains.
“it trains her creativity.” You tell him, as you walk out the room with her hot on your heels, eyes still burning Luke little lasers on the back of your head. “which is important, you know? Many parents.. just leave their kids with the TV or something and call it a day.” You sigh, closing the door behind you before you watch Minji jump on your couch, eager to look at the little book.
“minji, don’t jump like that!” Jungkook scolds, and you can’t help but smile to yourself at the almost challenging glimmer in his daughter’s eyes, as if she’s quietly sending a message- one that’s so obvious, even you receive the signal clear as day.
“But Dad does it!” she suddenly chirps at you. “All’the time!” she mumbles into the backrest of the couch. Jungkook gasps at both the sheer audacity of his daughter airing out his bad habits like this- and the fact that she actually spoke directly towards you.
“Well, I’d love for you both to feel right at home.” You say gently. “So I don’t mind if you jump a little, bunny.” You tell her- and at the nickname she grows shy, hiding away to instead bury her head into her book.
Jungkook smiles at the interaction, and follows you into your kitchen to make some tea, enjoying the moment with you to its fullest. “…I really don’t jump around like that, by the way.” He suddenly tells you with such a serious tone that you can’t help but laugh at him. “Hey, I’m serious!”
“serious? Maybe, but not honest!” You giggle, making him smile as well, unable to really do anything else but. This whole situation feels like a dream really, with you at his side and his daughter warming up to you. He’s sure there will be hurdles, it won’t be a smooth ride just because right now things are looking up- but he also has found a new unique feeling.
A feeling that this might actually work.
♥━━━━━━━━━━•.♡.•━━━━━━━━━━━━♥
Back home, Jungkook has busied his daughter with her coloring book and favorite crayons, while he himself prepares some dinner in the kitchen. And all is calm and well, until his daughter calls out to him from her room, a whine in her tone signaling that she needs his help urgently.
“What’s up?” He wonders towards her, before she holds out two crayons she’s never used- one red, and one orange. “What’s with them?” He asks, while she pouts to herself, thinking seriously about something.
“which is dad’s friend?” she asks, and Jungkook laughs.
“I don’t know? Maybe both of them, hm?” He wonders, and she nods- suddenly determined as she runs back to her coloring book, occupying herself again while he smiles and shakes his head, directing his attention back to the pan on the stove.
It’s only later, when he cleans up the table and finishes putting away the dishes, that she stands in front of him again, this time with a neatly ripped out page of her coloring book. “Wanna put that on the fridge?” He asks, and his daughter nods.
The picture showing three frogs, two green and one thats colored in orange and red.
Tumblr media
548 notes · View notes
messiahzzz · 1 year ago
Text
i have been thinking a lot about mystra’s relationship with gale, how reducing her to “his ex” really is an understatement. she was and still is so much more than that. moreover, using the term “ex-girlfriend” in relation to her plainly feels wrong and diminishes the influence she has over him, as well as the role she played in his life since his childhood (and it also trivializes the abuse he suffered through her).
there are several instances where gale gets defensive when his companions mention or ask him abt mystra. he claims that their relationship was no less real even though most of their interactions were incorporeal.
Tumblr media
we have already established that gale is an unreliable narrator in this particular case, still not having fully come to terms with the fact that he was groomed, manipulated and abused. he ping-pongs between bouts of realization (even in his romance), gaining clarity that he was merely used and eventually discarded and that mystra never truly cared for him, back to making light of his situation, idealizing her once again. realizing the extent of his trauma, that he is indeed a victim in this scenario, unlearning what he has been made to believe from a young age is a slow and painful journey. he is in the process of healing, but it takes time. time he deserves just like anyone else.
which makes me wonder what their relationship really looked like, once the lines between teacher, muse, and lover began to blur. i also feel like one of the reasons why part of the fandom still struggles to identify mystra as his abuser, is because she is a white woman who initially presents herself in a soft-spoken, benevolent manner… and well, the fact that gale himself is ambitious to a fault and a lil insane about the promise of power. he also briefly mentions "crossing mystra’s boundaries” when he confides in tav and tells them about his folly. (“i am, after all, the villain in this story.”) which led to a looooot of misinterpretations.
leaving the overall lore and mystra’s treatment of her other chosen aside — what we can discern from her interactions with gale in-game, is that mystra is civil as long as she remains in control and gale follows her demands, but as soon as there’s even a slight mention of challenging her power or defying her rule, she rather quickly changes her tone.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
there is also one particular exchange between them that just won’t leave my head:
Tumblr media
“you were many things to me, but never a threat. and never a savior."
even if we choose to blatantly ignore the fact that mystra is a deity, his goddess - there is no possible way that their relationship ever could have been equal by any mortal standards. the power imbalance that comes with her being his teacher and a symbol of his admiration, plus the sheer control she holds over him and his powers are simply too great. don’t even let me get started on how it is a common tactic of abusers to isolate their victims from any outside influences so they can exert full control over them. and how up to meeting tav and their merry band of misfits, every single soul he was close to was inevitably tied to mystra in one way or another. he briefly mentions his colleagues and then there’s elminster, also mystra’s chosen and former lover, and tara, who is a fine wizard in her own right. he spend so many years in service of her, dedicating his life to her, that now there is no one left he can truly call a friend. most of his little anecdotes and stories he tells are restricted to his childhood and university days, everything else was mystra.
Tumblr media
evidently, ordering gale to detonate the orb is the most efficient course of action in her eyes. he is just as expendable as any other mortal, after all. maybe once significantly more useful given his status and the extent of his powers, but she doesn’t feel sorrow nor remorse for ordering him to end his life. his death is simply the most convenient means to an end.
another thing i would also like to briefly touch upon is the trigger/detonator itself. a dagger to the heart. it could have been literally anything else, a simple incantation. it is well within mystra’s power to stabilize the orb and also to remove it from his body entirely. but no, what she requires of gale is to stab himself. one might argue that it was simply a cinematic choice meant for a more dramatic effect, but it really leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. especially considering the fact that she is commonly known and referred to as a jealous goddess. it almost makes it seem like yet another form of punishment or mere pettiness. after his long period of isolation, gale is now surrounded by fellow humans. people he cares about, even perhaps people he might eventually consider good friends — which is enough of a reason for him to not want to die, to keep going and try to find another way, rather than to blindly follow mystra’s bidding. now there’s a group of people who support him and are genuinely invested in him staying alive. hmmm...
1K notes · View notes
turtletaubwrites · 9 months ago
Text
A Good Catch ~ Part 1
✨600 Followers Fic Celebration!✨
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I am so grateful for all of you! This has been such a wonderful time, and having all of you around to nerd out with, and to share my writing with is the best! Shanks won the poll for the next x Reader fic, and I hope you enjoy it!
Pairings: Shanks x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4367
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 (End)
Ao3 Link
Summary: You are an unlucky fisherwoman having a bad day, until a red haired pirate captain offers to help you out. You're pretty sure he only makes it worse.
Rating/Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, Flirting, I feel like there's some romance tropes I could tag, but I usually just write smut, so please let me know what silly tropes I have in here 😅
A/N: I am having so much fun with this one! I'm doing my best to keep it to 3 parts, so wish me luck 😅 Please enjoy this fluffy first chapter!
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
Tumblr media
“Now I’m gonna get murdered by pirates,” you grumbled to yourself as the ship crept ever closer. “Just fucking perfect.”
The windless sea was no challenge for the massive pirate ship. All you could do was sit with your pile of fish, jealous of the huge oars guiding the threat to you. 
Dread loomed as that jolly roger closed the distance, like an animal baring its fangs before it strikes. Crossed blades, and a sinister skull with red stripes over its left eye socket. 
You didn’t pay enough attention to the gossip and wanted posters to remember who was headed your way. 
Not that it matters. They’re pirates. 
It was too much to hope that they’d pass you by. 
A few voices carried over from the deck, until a tall man leaned over the side. His bright, red hair hung still against this stupidly windless sky. 
“Hey, friend,” he called, the sun at your back giving you a glimpse of his wide smile, even from so high above you. 
“We’re not friends,” you countered, crossing your arms to keep him from noticing your shaky hands. 
“I suppose not. You seem like you’re in a spot of trouble though, and we’re happy to help.”
His deep voice sounded so friendly. Genuine. Charming. 
He’s just trying to lure me into his trap. Who knows what they’d do to me on that ship…
“The sun’s getting pretty low for a small boat to be all the way out here,” he judged, trying to block the glare as he looked down at you. “I don’t think we’ll be getting much more wind today.”
“Thank you, I’ll be fine.”
His pause made your skin itch, wishing he would stop looking at you. 
“We can bring your boat with us. I’m assuming you’re from that village a ways to the west?”
It must have been a trick of your eyes, it couldn’t happen so quickly. But you swore the day inched closer to night faster with every second. You watched the light grow golden as it lit up the red haired man, and his pirate ship.
Fuck.
“I refuse to be rescued,” you choked out, nails digging into your arms. 
“Okay,” he said in an annoyingly teasing tone, “if you insi–”
“I’ll pay you for the service! I had a great haul before…”
“Sounds good to me,” he laughed, deep and hearty. As if he were truly happy. 
You had thought pirates would seem scarier. Maybe this is worse.
You barely heard his shouts  as men started to lower ropes down, prepping to save you. 
“You should know I’m armed,” you yelled up at the back of his head, continuing when he faced you again. “Anyone touches me, and they’ll lose a hand.”
“I’ll be on my guard then. I’ve been running out of those.”
You didn’t understand, or appreciate his teasing while you waited. 
~
“Welcome aboard!”
Pirates echoed the red haired man’s welcome, and you assumed he was the captain as the rest busied themselves about. He sat on deck, calm as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Now that you were so close, you couldn’t help but notice the rippled muscles of his chest and stomach between his mostly open shirt. 
Besides the cloak over his shoulders, he didn’t seem to wear anything that could mark him as captain. Unless his red hair, and three scars over his left eye… 
“Oh.”
“Oh,” he asked, moving to stand beside you. 
“The jolly roger,” you pointed to the menacing skull. “You must be the captain.”
“Good eye,” he leaned in with a smile. 
His smile should have a completely different word. The sight from your boat was nothing compared to seeing the way this man's lips curled slowly, the left side starting first as it grew, as if he was enjoying the act of smiling itself. And his eyes…
His eyes were way too close to you. 
“Are you alright?”
Concern broke that smile, and he called for someone to bring water. 
Your face flushed, hot to the tips of your ears. You realized that you hadn’t heard what the pirate had said because you were too busy swooning over his pretty eyes. 
The water was welcome, and you gulped half of it down, suddenly embarrassed about how fucking fishy you must smell with your day’s catch beside you. 
“Is there anything else you need, miss…”
Trying to catch your eyes, the pirate leaned toward you. He reached for your shoulder, and you jumped back, spilling water down your chest.
“I’m so sorry, love. I forgot about your warning.”
His soothing voice felt real as he went to a knee in front of you. 
“I do hope you will spare me my fate, I swear that no one on this boat will forget it again.”
He’s really too charming. He’s either the sweetest person in the world, or some sort of demon with powers of seduction. 
You nodded. It wasn’t like you could truly defend yourself anyway. The fear of being at their mercy kept you hyper aware of all the moving bodies around you.
“How long until we’re at the village?”
The sun was almost gone from the sky now, and you just wanted to be home. To scrub this stupid day away, and pass out. 
“It should be about three days from now.”
“Three,” you choked out, dropping the now empty mug of water, which he caught without taking his eyes off of yours.
“We’ve got some business on the other side of the island. We'll be stopping by the village to restock supplies before we head out.”
“You didn’t tell me that,” you snapped, voice louder than you meant it.
He just smirked, tilting his head.
“Sorry, love. Would you like us to toss you overboard? I don’t think you had many rescuers lined up.”
For some reason, you couldn’t get your mouth to remember that these men could kill you as you growled back at him.
“You didn’t rescue me. I paid you for a trip back to the village.”
His lips quirked as if he was fighting not to smile again. He looked down at your haul, fish still flapping in the net. 
“That is a really nice haul, miss. Afraid it’s not enough for a direct trip, though.”
Pirates came to take your fish away, and it broke the spell his irritating eyes had on you.
“Please, save this one! You can have it, just… Make sure you cook it well.”
The two men with the net followed your gesture to that fish, assuring you they would obey before taking it away.
“Why’s that one special?”
The weight of this long ass day hit you, a heavy sigh leaving your lips before you looked back at that pretty captain. 
“It was a good catch.”
He huffed a laugh, the clear amusement he got from your words making you simultaneously annoyed, and pleased. You were mentally smacking yourself for that. 
Don’t be attracted to pirates, dumbass. 
“I’m Shanks. I don’t know if you heard me before, but…”
Your skin flushed again, and he seemed to notice, a warm, evil smile slowly forming on his lips.
“What’s your name?”
“You don’t need to know it.”
He gave a real laugh then, loud, and infectious. You had to remind yourself that he was laughing at you.
“What would you like us to call you then, huh? “Fish Girl?” Maybe “Fail Boat?” Or how about “Damsel in Distress?” I think I like that–”
You ripped your hand back as soon as you’d realized what you’d done.
But it was too late.
Your idiotic, suicidal hand had shot out and smacked him, hard, right in the center of that gorgeous chest of his.
The deck roared with laughter while you shook with horror. Shanks had looked down at his chest, and when he lifted his face to yours he looked stunned. If you hadn’t just signed your own death warrant, you might have thought his face comical, brows raised high, with his mouth and eyes wide. 
“Go easy on the girl, captain,” teased a tall man with gray hair, shaking his head at Shanks.
“Yeah, come on, captain! What kinda hospitality are you giving, insulting our guest like that?”
A whole group of pirates crowded around him, reprimanding him, and giving him a few gentle punches and shoves. 
Your mouth hung open. The sight of these pirates being so playfully disrespectful toward their captain didn’t fit in your brain. None of this made sense with what pirates were supposed to be like. 
“Fine. Fine! I’m sorry, miss…”
He’d broken away from his men, leaning toward you with that question. 
“Y/N.”
He hit you with a new grin to outshine all the others, making your breath hitch.
“What a beautiful name for a damsel in distress.”
You didn’t need to hit him this time, as pirates did the job for you, even throwing things at him from across the deck. 
Maybe it was the overwhelm, the fatigue. Maybe you’d gone insane.
But laughter built in your stomach, growing through your body, until you were shaking with it. You had your hands on your knees as it took you over, and the pirates around you joined in. 
How can pirates be laughing and smiling like this with me? How can it be genuine? 
Amidst the continued roars of his men, Shanks shook his head, gesturing for you to follow him. 
“Where are we going?”
“I’ll show you.”
Frowning at the back of his head, you followed through the wooden halls until he opened a large door, gesturing for you to go inside.
He rolled his eyes when you hesitated, before going in first. 
The large room was tiled, with lockers and showers, and there he stood in the center, grinning like a creep.
“I’ll pass,” you deadpanned, backing out the door.
“Come on, fish girl,” he taunted, “you stink, and I think you’ll be easier to clean than the blankets you’ll sleep in tonight.”
Blood rushing to your face again, your mouth opened and closed as anger and embarrassment fought to take over.
Shanks laughed again, but tried to stifle it. 
“Sorry, you’re just,” he motioned to his lips, mimicking your movements. “You’re a fish girl.”
“Shut up,” you seethed, leaning toward him. “I’m not taking a shower on a pirate ship when anyone can–”
“I’ll guard the door for you, okay,” he assured, finally seeming to take something seriously. “I’ll make sure no one comes in.”
Now his stupid smile was soft, small, and sweet. You hated it.
“Oh right,” you scoffed, “like I'd trust a pirate captain. Who’s gonna stop you from coming in?”
“What makes you think this pirate captain would even want to come in here, huh?”
“Fuck you,” you breathed, turning to leave.
He was so fast. You jumped back as he blocked the door. He saw your wide eyes, and moved out of the doorway so he wouldn’t block your exit, but he still leaned close.
“I’m sorry, Y/N. Really, okay? I promise I will sit right outside this door, and not let a single person come inside until you’re done. There’s fresh clothes for you over there too. Whatever you need.”
A very fine trembling worked its way around your body as you studied him. It seemed like such a bad idea to trust him. 
But you were exhausted. 
“You’ll sit in front of the door?”
He straightened up, a look of relief brightening that serious face.
“I will.”
“Will you wear a blindfold?”
“If that’s what it takes,” he agreed with a smirk.
“And let me tie your hands behind your back?”
Shanks sucked his teeth as he leaned back. You had a second of fear as he started taking his clothes off.
But all he removed was his heavy cloak, revealing that he was missing his left arm. 
Guilt hit you, apologies about to pour out, but he held his palm out. 
“Afraid I can’t do that, but I promise I’ll do the rest. Is that alright, Y/N?”
~
This is really nice soap.
Still on edge, your body started to relax a bit with the delicious smelling soap on your skin. 
But every time you felt a moment of relaxation, you’d remember the pirate on the other side of the door. 
“You’ve gotta make it tighter, sweetie. Otherwise it won’t work.”
That fucking sentence kept tearing through your brain. The way he’d run his fingers across yours while you adjusted the cloth to blindfold him. The way his hair and skin had felt and smelled as you moved it into place. The way he’d rasped those words while he grabbed your wrist to guide you, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting his fingers trail down your skin. 
The way you had let him touch you without arguing. His fingers had taken advantage of the moment, but it had felt almost electric to let him.
“Fuck,” you muttered to yourself.
“Y/N, is everything alright?”
“Uh, yeah. Thank you.”
How did he hear that over the shower?
~
“What the hell is this?”
“Sorry, love, I'm afraid I can't see what you– ow, hold on!”
You definitely had a few red hairs between your fingers after ripping his blindfold off. 
The pirate captain got to his feet to meet your eyes, and fucking snorted.
“What is wrong with you,” you fumed, tossing the blindfold at his face.
The fact that he caught it before it hit him only pissed you off more.
“There has to be something else I can wear,” you demanded, pulling at the frilly lavender dress he stuck you with. You looked like some creepy porcelain doll.
His face was going as red as his hair as he tried not to laugh.
“I’m sorry, no one’s– we don’t have anyone your size,” he choked out, clearing his throat before continuing. “We have a few more dresses like this, though. They were supposed to be a gift for a princess, so you should feel honored!”
“Fuck you.”
His lips were fucking quivering as he fought his laughter. His eyes flicked down to your clenched fists, and he relented.
“Right, sorry, okay! You can have some of my clothes, you’ll just have to roll them up, alright?”
Very judgmentally looking him up and down, you raised your brows at him.
“Do you have any shirts that actually button up all the way? Or do you expect me to let my tits hang out like yours.”
Shanks cackled then, catching himself on the wall, his eyes even tearing up a little. 
You kicked yourself for saying something so sexual in front of a fucking pirate.
“You’re a funny one, fish girl,” he teased between hiccupped laughs, “but you definitely look like a damsel in that dress.”
You kicked the pirate for being such a dick. 
“Fuck, sorry,” he huffed, wincing as he rubbed his shin where you’d kicked it. 
“Follow me. I definitely wanna get you outta that dress– I mean into different clothes,” he almost yelled, warding off a slap with his arm. “So you stop hurting me!”
Practically boiling with a mix of anger, embarrassment, and fear, you let yourself be guided along. The lantern lit halls were roomier than you would have expected, and you could hear the distant voices of the crew. 
“Here we go,” he said gently, opening another large door. He went in first again, and you entered what had to be his quarters.
Of course. We’re getting his clothes. 
It was full of rich, dark woods, red blankets, a desk that seemed to have more bottles of alcohol than anything work related on it, and a delightful, almost spicy scent filling the air. 
The room was a bit messy, and you felt out of place standing there in that frilly dress while he dug through his wardrobe, tossing clothes to the ground as he searched.
“Here, love, how about these?”
“Do you have a belt?”
~
Managing to roll, buckle, and tuck at his clothes, you were mostly satisfied as you checked the mirror.
Even with all the buttons done up, you still had to tie his shirt to keep your chest from popping out like his does. 
“You almost finished? The party’s star…”
Those pretty eyes brightened when you opened the door. His little smirk made you frown, and he held his hand up.
“You were right, Y/N. This definitely suits you better.”
He offered that hand to you, and even in the warm glow of the lanterns, you could see scars, callouses, and thick veins that made your breath hitch for a moment. 
Your hand had almost reached his when he pulled away.
“Almost forgot,” he teased, his voice somehow lower than normal as he stepped out of the doorway for you. “I’ll lose my only hand if I touch you, right?”
“I…”
“Well, I definitely won’t risk that.”
He stepped further back, letting you follow him into the hallway. 
Your brain seemed to stutter, unable to join the moment as it flew through conflicting emotions. 
Like why it upset you that he wouldn’t risk it. 
Shanks moved in close, his spicy scent filling your lungs as you looked up at him. 
“Just let me know if that ever changes.”
He turned away after a subtle wink that made your brain short circuit. 
“You comin’? I’m hungry.”
Still barefoot without your fishy shoes, you chased that red hair down the hallway.
He really is some sort of seduction demon.
~
“Hey, girly. Is this jackass treating you alright?”
“This is how you talk about your captain?”
The older man with long, gray hair ignored Shanks’ protests as he looked you over.
“You should be more worried about him,” you grumbled, narrowing your eyes at the captain.
“Ha, I’m sure you’re right.”
He grinned down at you, before motioning toward the fire. 
“Come on, the food’s almost done.”
The crew had found a remote beach, and set up camp. Their camp supplies seemed to be mostly alcohol. 
Shanks had said they had business here, and that they’d go to the village in about three days.
What kind of business are pirates getting up to on my island?
The thought was pushed aside as Shanks called for you. Most of the pirates were holding their plates, or using boulders or crates while they ate. Captain Shanks had a dingy little table by the fire, and was waving you over. 
“Come on, love. Let’s eat, and find out why that fish of yours is so special.”
The day's events hit you again, but you joined him in a mismatched chair, and grabbed a fork. 
It smelled good.
“Here,” Shanks demanded, shoving a mug of some kind of alcohol into your hand, before standing and lifting his own to address the crew. “Here’s to our luck! We found an unlucky fisherwoman, and now we’ve got good eats. To Y/N!”
The sheer volume of their enthusiasm made your eyes go wide as you faked a sip.
“So tell me, fish girl,” he leaned toward you, the small table not leaving much space between you. “Why is this fish so special?”
Ignoring him, you focused on your plate. The way it looked and smelled was perfect, but you had to know.
He watched your movements, following along as you pierced into the flesh, bringing the first bite to your lips. 
It was perfect. Whoever had cooked it had treated it right. The tender meat and the subtle flavor were given just the amount of spice to balance it out.
It would have sold well. After all it took to get it, you were grateful that it didn’t go to waste, and tasting it yourself was wonderful.
Even if you were sharing it with a pirate.
“This is incredible, Y/N. You really are a fish girl.”
Letting out a sigh, you dug in, trying to enjoy the meal that had put you in this situation. The night was filled with the sounds of music, laughter, and endless calls for cheers, the clanging of metal mugs like the shifting heartbeat of this joyful crew.
“So, I had someone take a look at your boat, in case we could help fix it.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my boat,” you spat out, wishing you could have enjoyed your meal in peace. Without this too fucking handsome and annoying pirate captain.
Shanks tapped his fingers on the table, a smirk playing at his lips. 
“That was the report,” he said softly, the teasing tone building slowly in his voice. “They did say that one of the oars is missing.”
“Thanks for the report,” you grumbled, watching the fire now.
“Come on, just tell me what happened. How’d you get stranded out there?”
“It’s none of your business.”
Your face felt hot, the fire not close enough for the burning in your skin. 
“Consider it payment then. For my clothes, and for my company,” he taunted, his voice dipping low. 
“I could do without the latter.”
“You wound me, sweet damsel.”
He put his hand to his heart, chuckling at your frown before chugging whatever was in his mug.
“It was a really good catch,” you mumbled, giving in. He scooted even closer to you, excitement in those lovely eyes, mixing with the light of the fire.
Shanks kept that beautiful mouth shut, just tilting his head toward yours as he waited.
“My grandma used to talk about her best catch. That was it,” you said flatly, gesturing to your empty plate. “She made me promise that if I ever caught a fish like that, I had to eat it myself, eat it with friends.”
“Don’t waste a fish like that on berry, sugar. It’s a gift.”
He raised his mug as you mimicked your grandma’s voice, and you brought yours up with a sigh, still just pretending to drink.
“I’m honored, then. Your grandma was right, that fish was amazing.”
Memories of her seemed to join you at the table, bittersweet, and heavier than you’d like. 
“Sorry, Y/N. You, uh… You doing okay?”
“I’m fine,” you coughed, a hint of anger back in your voice as you fought against the prickling in your eyes.
“Well,” he drawled out, extending the word for way too long, “you still didn’t tell me how you got stranded out there with nothing but the perfect fish.”
Groaning, you put your forehead on the dingy table and blurted it out, as if you could make it not true if you said it fast enough. 
“I caught the fish. I saw what it was. It started to slip through my hands. I knew it’d sell well, so I didn’t want to lose it. I ended up tripping over one of the oars. I should have let it go, I could have grabbed the oar if I’d seen it slipping. But I was greedy. I wanted to sell that stupid fish instead of eating it, and now grandma’s probably cussing at me from the afterlife.”
Shanks at least had the decency to shove his knuckles between his teeth before he started laughing. 
“Oh, fuck you,” you huffed, standing to leave the captain’s dingy table.
“Wait, please,” he called, catching your fingers in his, and pulling you back toward him. Only to drop your hand as if he’d been burned when you met his eyes.
“Fuck, I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean–”
Whatever you might have said was lost in a wave of too many things at once. Humiliation over the whole thing, fear that these pirates could still hurt you, especially if you fell asleep, and the burning in your stupid cheeks because this gorgeous asshole held your hand. 
What the fuck is wrong with me today?
The moon was mostly full, so there was plenty of light on the sand as you walked away from the camp. They were so fucking noisy, but the ocean beckoned for you to sit, gentle waves like your grandmother’s sweet voice. 
When she wasn’t giving me shit, you thought with a laugh, digging your toes in the sand. 
“The ocean makes me feel better too.”
His deep voice annoyed you more than it startled you. 
Shanks sat beside you, but not too close.
Ignoring him did not make him go away. 
“What do you want?”
“I wanna make your shitty day better. How can I do that?”
“Take me home.”
“Three days on that one, love. Anything more immediate?”
Your plan to stay up all night was already failing, exhaustion dragging you down.
His eyes were so soft under the moon, the hint of a smile brightening his face.
“I don’t want to sleep out in the open with everyone. Is there somewhere… safe where I can sleep?”
Shanks nodded, looking down as he cleared his throat. 
“Of course, let me take you now.”
The ship itself seemed to be sleeping, so quiet with only a handful of crew watching it as the rest camped on the island. 
Red hair under lantern light guided you through those wood paneled halls again, until he led you to the guest quarters. 
“Here’s the key, and you’re welcome to shove this chair under the door knob as well. Breakfast will be at the beach in the morning,” he laughed, running his fingers through his hair. “It’ll probably be the afternoon depending on the hangovers, but you– Are you alright?”
He knelt at your feet, looking you over as you slumped onto the bed.
“How long were you out there today? Have you been drinking water? Are you…”
This charming pirate stopped himself from touching your forehead, and some insane, fatigued part of you reached out, grabbing his hand with both of yours. 
“I lied,” you confessed, voice quiet and close, his pretty eyes on your lips. “I can’t cut your hand off. I’m not armed.”
The slow smile he gave you now was your favorite, somehow making the light in his eyes shine brighter. Your hands reluctantly let go of him as he shifted, but instead of moving away, Shanks touched his calloused fingers to your cheek. 
“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.”
Tumblr media
Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: I am obsessed with these two now. What the heck. I need Shanks to make fun of me like that 😅
Tag List: @shewrites02
Part 2
Tumblr media
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 | ko-fi |
378 notes · View notes
galesleftearring · 1 year ago
Text
Thinking about how sadly realistic Gale's romance arc is right now, and how in different ways this applies to each of the BG3 companions but especially his:
His whole life he's been told or felt for some reason or another that what he has to offer isn't *quite* enough. That being himself is not going to earn him love and companionship, and that those are things that he has to earn in the first place. Even his cat and his mother, who he clearly adores, have not managed to dissuade him from this.
Then he falls for this goddess; she is quite literally everything to him. She is his muse, the literal magic running through his veins. He *worships* her. And she takes his love, because it's flattering or it's there or it's something to do, and gives him very little in return. She certainly doesn't love him. She just loves the control, and he doesn't know the difference.
And then this inevitably collapses, this love built in hubris and self depreciation, and he is left feeling hopeless. Who could love him as he is when nobody else has been able to? Willing to? Surely the problem must be *him.* Surely the things he wants--companionship, adoration, reciprocity--just aren't things he can have. Or maybe they just don't exist.
Then he meets the player, and he finds himself falling again into these desires and he's scared, he's so scared, because he's now living on borrowed time and as much as he wants to give himself to Tav and have them give themselves back, why would they? Why would this person be different from every other form of love he has ever known? And on top of it all, who would want to pledge themselves to a dying man?
Monogamy isn't for everyone and that's fine but it is for him. He wants to give of himself completely and for that to be reciprocated, he wants to love deeply and truly and completely. He wants to find home in another person and give that person a home within himself. He has to wait until he's sure that he's safe, or until he's sure he's unsafe enough that it doesn't matter--his last night, at least he can die knowing he *tried,* Godsdamnit, and if he wasn't enough in life then maybe he can be enough in death.
But Tav loves him. Simple and ordinary and selfless, or incredibly selfish--not wanting him to martyr himself if they could just keep him there with them, keep loving him. They have taken the broken pieces of this man and said that those broken pieces are enough. They don't want to fix him and don't want him to fix them. They have taken his hand in theirs and given him the love that they have. No more, no less. No grand illusion, just themselves.
But he can't quite believe it, because why would he be enough now if he never has been before? So he tries to earn Tav's love, tries to give them what he *could* be, what he wants to try to be for Tav, what he'll never stop trying to be if it earns Tav's love. Love is transactional. And Tav says no, you were already enough, and I want from you what you want from me. Companionship, togetherness, just us, just me, just you. How could he believe it? How could he truly fall into this steady rhythm of everyday love?
When someone is used to transactional love, how do they learn to accept unconditional love?
705 notes · View notes
kikyoupdates · 23 days ago
Text
Tears of a Villainess ⭑˚🗡️⭑ 𝑠𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑠
yandere!ocs x reader
yandere, reverse harem, isekai, original characters x fem!reader, slowburn, slowburn yandere
Tumblr media
Reincarnation isn't as great as it sounds, especially when you've been reborn as none other than the villainess. Fated to die if you stand in the heroine's way, you immediately resolve to distance yourself from the plot. As long as you have nothing to do with any of the relevant characters, surely, you'll be able to avoid an untimely death. But in a horrible turn of events, the heroine ends up wanting to get close to you. Are you really doomed to meet the villainess' tragic end? Or is there an even more sinister fate that awaits you?
previous | story masterlist | next
“...pardon me. I think I must be hearing things,” Alistair frowns. “For a moment, it almost sounded like you said you wanted to break off our engagement. But that can’t have possibly been it, so if you wouldn’t mind repeating yourself—” 
“No, you didn’t mishear me.” 
“What?” 
“I’m saying you heard correctly. I don’t want to get married to you. The engagement is over.” 
You watch as Alistair’s jaw drops open yet again, and meanwhile, your mother lets out the single most offended gasp you’ve ever heard in your entire life. With the way she’s reacting right now, you would think that she’s the one being broken up with. 
Anyways, it doesn’t matter. Everyone is free to be as outraged as they want. Your decision is final.
“[N-Name],” your mother splutters weakly. She somehow looks like she’s aged a whole decade, simply by being part of this conversation. “Don’t… don’t be ridiculous. If this is supposed to be some kind of joke, it’s not funny, young lady. Apologize to your fiancé for your rudeness.”
“But he’s not my fiancé anymore,” you say simply. “I just broke up with him.” 
“[Name]!” 
She presses a palm to her forehead and proceeds to fall rather ungraciously onto the nearest chair. She grips the arms of the chair and gasps for breath, as if she’s holding on for dear life. Really, the whole thing is needlessly overdramatic. She’s acting like she just got diagnosed with an incurable disease or something. 
Alistair approaches her hesitantly. “Countess [Last Name], are you quite alright? Should I send for help?” 
“N-No, I’m fine,” she replies, visibly gaunt. “I just… need a moment to collect myself. I’m still convinced my foolish daughter must be playing a trick on the both of us. Truly, I don’t know what came over her. She’s never done anything like this before.”
You wish you could say you feel guilty about scaring your own mother half to death, but does she really need to overreact to this extent? It’s not like Alistair’s the only fish in the sea. You can just marry someone else, for crying out loud. 
“Come on, then,” your mother urges. She looks up at you in desperation. “Take back what you said, [Name]. If you apologize profusely, I’m sure Alistair will forgive you. He’s a patient, charitable man, and you’re extremely fortunate to have him.”
You turn back towards Alistair. It’s true that he’s a good guy. You know as much from playing his route and having seen how kindly he treated the heroine. That’s exactly why this decision is the best one for the both of you. He’ll get to enjoy his fated romance without a villainess fiancée complicating things. He may not realize it right now, but you’re doing him a big favor. 
Still. I guess being broken up with all of a sudden can’t feel good. I should try and soften the blow.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and your mother audibly exhales. Her reaction is premature, however, because you have no intention of saying what she wants you to.
Instead, you double down. 
“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to marry you,” you continue. “And it’s really nothing personal. I thought about it, and I’m not physically attracted to you at all. You seem like a very nice guy, and I respect you on a personal level. But your face just isn’t doing anything for me, and I can’t keep pretending. It just won’t ever work out between us. Sorry about this.” 
Alistair’s jaw drops open for the third time, and your mother lets out a horrified scream before openly wailing into the palms of her hands. 
“What?” you gape. “What did I say that was so wrong?” 
Needless to say, you were lying just then. Alistair is extremely attractive, but you wanted to spare his feelings and not make him feel like you dislike him as a person. It’s not like you could ever tell him the actual reason. He’ll never understand why you’re so desperate to get away from him. But once he meets the heroine and falls for her, it won’t even matter.
Alistair blinks, looking more exhausted by the second. “So… the reason you want to end our engagement… is because you don’t like how I look?” 
“Pretty much,” you nod. “See? Now you’re getting it.” 
Your mother keeps on wailing, and it only seems to be getting louder by the second. Jeez, this family is home to so many drama queens. No wonder the villainess turned out to be such a massive pain. 
“I see.” Alistair presses his lips together. He’s clearly trying to remain civil, but it must be difficult, considering you’ve all but spat in his face. “I didn’t realize you had such specific demands when it came to your future husband. I apologize for not meeting your standards. I don’t suppose there’s anything I can say to change your mind?” 
“It’s an insurmountable issue, I’m afraid. Let’s just agree to cut our losses here and move on.” 
Alistair scrunches up his nose, struggling to hide his irritation. You don’t really blame him for it. Odds are he won’t want to speak to you ever again after this, but that’s exactly what you’re after. The more distance he keeps from you, the better your chances of survival. Having this hottie loathe your guts is a small price to pay for not dying.
“Very well, then. I should return home and tell my parents the news. They won’t be too pleased to hear it, but if you’re not willing to proceed with the engagement, I must respect your wishes. Good day, [Name].” 
Alistair bows, and even though your mother tries begging him to stay in between every choked-out sob, soon enough, he’s gone. 
Just like that, you’ve successfully avoided your very first death flag.
You’ve got to admit, it feels pretty good. 
“[Name]!” your mother screams. She’s apparently recovered enough of her strength to stand up from the chair, and is now glaring daggers at you. In fact, she looks like she might even be out for blood. “What in the world… is the meaning of this? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?!”
You slowly back away from her. “Um. I just ended a relationship that was doomed to fail?” 
“[Name]!” 
“Eek! Don’t hurt me!” 
You rip off your heels and start running down the hallway. Since she doesn’t have the nerve to abandon decorum and sprint after you, she opts to stand by the doorway and yell out her feelings. 
“Just wait until your father finds out about this!” she cries out. “Do you hear me? You’re in big trouble, young lady! You can’t even begin to fathom the storm that’s headed your way!” 
She keeps screaming and screaming, but the further you run, the more her voice fades into the distance. There are countless servants and other household staff that are watching the whole spectacle unfold, no doubt wondering what the hell is going on. It’s only your first day as a villainess, and you’ve already managed to become the center of attention.
Still. You successfully broke off your engagement and saved yourself from certain death. All things considered, you’d say you’re doing pretty well so far.
“[Name]!” 
…you might end up being killed by your mother instead, though.
Tumblr media
It doesn’t take long for word of your antics to spread throughout the manor. 
Not that it really surprises you, after all the havoc you wreaked. You figured that breaking off your engagement with Alistair wouldn’t be without its fair share of trouble, but you didn’t expect your mother to react so viscerally. It was like an episode straight out of a reality TV show.
Anyways, you’re still trying to come to terms with this new body and new life of yours, but one thing you’ve quickly realized is that the servants here are super chatty. The second there’s any hot new gossip, they dive right into it. They’re rather careless about their surroundings, considering they work for a mean villainess who could easily punish them for their insolence. It’s a good thing you’re not the real [Name]. She would have probably put them through hell by now.
But you digress. The main topic today is, of course, the fact that you broke off your engagement and nearly gave your mother a heart attack. 
“Can you believe what Lady [Name] did? I heard the countess’ soul just about left her body!” 
“It was so sudden, too. Completely without warning.” 
“Wasn’t she always gushing about how much she liked him up until now? What could have possibly changed?”
“Our lady is a fickle sort, after all. Still, it is surprising. I’ve been hearing talks that she hasn’t quite been herself since this morning. Perhaps it’s true that some strange malady has taken up residence in her body…” 
Well, now that’s a little rude. You would hardly call yourself a malady. Although you most certainly have taken up residence in this body. The villainess that they loved to hate is now a thing of the past, but you’re willing to bet that they’ll appreciate this change.  
For one thing, you’re perfectly happy to overlook their gossip. It’s actually kind of fun to know that so many people are talking about you. This surge in popularity is somewhat exhilarating. 
Well, either way, you aren’t too concerned about it. You’ve already decided to take the steps towards restoring your reputation and prove to everyone that you’re a good person. You refuse to allow yourself to be labeled as the villainess, because you already know how that story goes. 
You’ve been locked in your room reading for the past little while. You were expecting your mother to storm in earlier and yell at you some more, but based on all the gossip you’ve heard from the servants, she has apparently fallen ill from shock and is lying in her bed. Seriously, such a drama queen.
Just as you’re about to turn a page and start a new chapter in the ridiculously cheesy romance novel you’re reading, someone knocks on the door.
“...Lady [Name]? May I enter?” 
“Hm? Oh, sure. Go ahead,” you beckon. 
The door opens, and you are once again faced with the nervous little maid from before. She seems to be just as apprehensive as always, the poor thing. The real [Name] must have been awful to her, if she’s close to bursting into tears every time she lays eyes on you. 
“Hey,” you greet, setting your book aside and smiling pleasantly. “How can I help you?” 
“P-Pardon the interruption, but I thought… you might want to know that your father has just returned to the estate,” she stammers. “I realize this isn’t my place, but given how your mother reacted earlier, I… I just thought I should tell you.” 
Aww. She came all this way to speak to you—something that clearly terrifies her—just to give you a heads-up? Even though the real villainess clearly didn’t treat her well, she’s still acting in your best interests and looking out for you. You’re technically not even the head of the household. Officially, she should answer to your father, first and foremost. But she still went out of her way to let you know, even if she could get in trouble for it. 
You’ve officially made up your mind. This cute little maid deserves the entire world, and you’re going to make sure she knows it. 
“Thank you for telling me,” you smile. 
She meets your gaze, only for a moment, then nods skittishly before looking away again.
“What’s your name again?” you ask. “I’m sorry if you’ve told me before, but I’ve forgotten. I think I should do a better job of remembering from now on. I’m hoping it will help people feel more comfortable around me.” 
“You want… to know my name?” 
She’s visibly taken aback, no doubt because the previous owner of this body never expressed any interest in treating the people that worked for her, like, well… like actual people.
But you’re not the same crappy villainess she’s used to. You’re determined to change your fate in every possible way, and to that end, acting like a decent human being sounds like a pretty good place to start. 
You nod encouragingly. “Yes, your name. I’d like to know, so that I remember what to call you from now on. It would really help me out. I’m going to try to remember everyone else’s names too. It might take a little while, but I’ll certainly do my best.” 
She can’t stop herself from gaping at you, which again, you can’t really blame her for. But despite her visibly wariness, she still musters up the courage to respond. 
“F-Fiona,” she replies. “My name is Fiona. But I-I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, so it's okay if you forget!” 
She’s the very first person whose name you’ve gotten to know since waking up in this world, so it’s safe to say that you won’t be forgetting anytime soon. 
You clasp your hands together and grin. “Perfect! Thank you for sharing that with me, Fiona. I hope this will help us feel closer from now on. And don’t hesitate to tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable. I’ve resolved to make a change recently, and part of that involves ensuring that the people who work for me feel at ease.” 
Fiona keeps on gaping at you. She must be struggling to wrap her head around all this. You can practically see the gears turning inside her head.
Well, you feel much better now. It’ll obviously take a while for Fiona to start trusting you, and that goes for the rest of the household staff as well, but you’re willing to put in the effort and make a change. 
“Anyways, Fiona,” you carry on, lifting up the book you were just reading, “have you read this, by any chance? If so, I was wondering what your thoughts on it were. To me, it just seems way too clichéd—” 
“[Name]!” 
Ah. That must be your father. Well, then. This is as good a time as any, you suppose. 
You set the book down and smile. “I guess that discussion will have to wait until later. Sorry for troubling you right off the bat, but do you think you could help me make a rope out of all those blankets so I can climb out of the window and run away?” 
Fiona blinks several times in quick succession, but unfortunately, she isn’t able to react in time. 
Your father bursts into the room moments later. 
Is there any chance he’s going to be chill about this?  
“[Name]!” he cries out again. “What’s this nonsense I hear about you breaking off your engagement while I was out?!” 
Hm. Honestly, it’s still too early to tell. He might not even be that mad. 
“I’m extremely mad right now!” 
Fuck. 
Your father’s arrival immediately signals for Fiona to leave. Even though she was nice enough to warn you ahead of time, there’s nothing she can do to help you at this point. Hopefully she’ll keep you in her prayers, at least. 
Fiona closes the door behind her, and you slowly stand up from the bed, taking the time to gauge your father’s expression. His nostrils are flaring as he yells at you—definitely not a good sign. You also don’t know exactly what kind of relationship the villainess had with her parents. You know that she was spoiled, but it’s clear that this engagement between you and Alistair is something they consider very important. Batting your eyelashes probably won’t get you off the hook.
But you may as well try it, just to be sure. 
“I’m sorry, father,” you say, mustering up your most convincing puppy eyes. “I just… I just didn’t want to be with him. I realized it and had to put an end to that engagement. The thought of having to marry him was too much to bear.” 
Your father narrows his eyes. “Really? Alistair Calderwood? The very same man that you were absolutely thrilled about when I first announced that our families were discussing a potential engagement?”
…huh. Right. Now that you think about it, the villainess did like Alistair quite a good deal, which is why she completely lost her shit when he fell for the heroine instead. 
Your case isn’t looking too strong. 
“Th-That was then, this is now,” you stubbornly deny. “I’ve learned a lot about myself in this time, and I now understand that we’re simply incompatible. I want to marry someone that I’m truly passionate about. I just can’t force myself to go along with this anymore.” 
“But you were speaking highly of him just the other day,” your father insists, clearly exasperated. “Last night, when I told you that he would be visiting today, I recall that you said, ‘Oh, how fun! I’ll be sure to pick out one of my finest dresses tonight!’’’
Balls. He’s really not making this easy for you, huh? 
“I was really struggling,” you nod somberly. “I kept pretending that I was happy to be with him, even though I had already decided long ago that my heart was closed off. I’m afraid he’s fallen out of favor with me, father. There’s nothing he can do to win me back anymore.” 
Your father proceeds to just stare at you for a while. You’re not sure whether he’s buying it or not. Hopefully your parents are as gullible as you’d like them to be.
“...I’ve had enough of this farce.” 
Okay, so maybe not that gullible. Duly noted. 
“We’ve always let you do as you pleased,” he grits out, clenching his fists in frustration. “I don’t concern myself with what you get up to in your personal time, so long as you do the bare minimum of what’s expected of you. And we had already agreed that you would marry someone we deemed acceptable. Alistair Calderwood is the most promising candidate you’ve ever had. And you want to squander this opportunity purely on a whim?” 
“It’s not like I’ll go unwed,” you protest. “I’ll happily marry someone else. I’m sure I can find another man that’s equally as respectable and impressive. I just don’t want it to be Alistair—” 
“Silence. Do not speak unless I tell you to speak.” 
He glares at you with an intensity you didn’t even know was possible. You involuntarily gulp and take several steps back. You’ve been so caught up in the excitement of a new life that you’d briefly forgotten what kind of setting this is. Here, young women such as yourself are basically treated like property by their own families. You live in luxury, but only under the condition that you marry into a reputable family and further elevate your parents’ status. 
Part of you had been hoping that the villainess could get away with this sort of behavior, but it seems as though she too is just a pawn in a much bigger game. 
“You’ve made a royal mess of things,” your father scowls. “And now it falls on me to fix it. I’m not sure if the Calderwood family will forgive this transgression, but you had better hope they will. Otherwise, you’re going to regret it.” 
He doesn’t elaborate on how you’ll be regretting it, and before you can ask what exactly he has in mind, he storms out of the room. 
You purse your lips. “Okay, so that probably could have gone better.”
Tumblr media
While you were being yelled at and lowkey threatened by your father, Alistair was facing his fair share of discomfort as well.
“She did what?” 
“She called off the engagement,” Alistair repeats. His parents are every bit as incredulous as he was expecting. Well, he couldn’t quite believe the news when he heard it either. It was completely out of nowhere.
Alistair’s father, Duke Calderwood, lets out a sigh and massages his temples. “Are you quite certain that’s what she meant? Remember, I told you before. [Name] can be rather frivolous at times. It wouldn’t surprise me if this was yet another one of her mood swings.” 
“Considering she repeated it over and over again, I’d say there’s no doubt she was serious about it,” Alistair grimaces. “She… insulted my appearance. She said she wasn’t attracted to me and couldn’t imagine us being together.” 
“Why, that’s nonsense!” his mother gasps. “You’re such a handsome young man!” 
“All due respect, mother, that’s not the issue here. I had no idea how to handle such a sudden rejection, and I must admit that I’m at a complete loss.” 
Duke Calderwood shakes his head. “Like I said, she’s frivolous. But it doesn’t change the fact that she utterly disrespected you. I can’t believe her family would allow such behavior. It calls their legitimacy into question.” 
“Does it even matter anymore? She clearly has no intention of being with me. Her mother desperately tried to convince her otherwise, but she refused to even consider it. I don’t expect that she’ll have yet another change of heart. Besides, I would be humiliated to have to take her back after how she spoke to me.” 
“Right. It’s a frustrating turn of events, but we can’t forgive such an oversight. Perhaps, with the right token of apology…” 
“Father,” Alistair glares. “I don’t want to be with her anymore either. She treated me like dirt.” 
“Yes, yes. But, well, the arrangement we had made with [Name]’s family was quite favorable to us. It’s just a shame things had to end this way,” the duke sighs.
Alistair turns away from him. “If it’s all the same, I’d like to be alone for a little while. Regardless of how [Name]’s family chooses to handle this, I have no intention of taking her back. I hope you can understand.” 
He walks off before waiting to hear how his parents respond. It doesn’t concern him anymore. Frankly speaking, he didn’t want to get married to you in the first place. He’s heard the rumors. He knows that you have a rather infamous reputation, and that you act selfishly with no regard to those around you. He never wanted someone like that as his bride-to-be, but he went along with it to be a good son and make his family proud. In a way, this whole thing is a blessing in disguise. He’s no longer bound to you. 
Which is why it’s so strange. His chest should feel ten times lighter now that he doesn’t have to deal with you anymore. Whoever his next fiancée is will surely be a much better option. 
Perhaps it’s the sting of rejection. The bitterness that comes with being scorned so readily. The way you looked at him back there… it was like you couldn’t wait to be done with him. He’s never experienced such utter disinterest before. 
“What a waste of time,” Alistair mutters under his breath. No, it’s better this way. Some temporary frustration is nothing compared to how much he would have suffered if he was stuck having to marry you. 
He didn’t care about you to begin with, so there’s no reason he should care about you now. 
Lost in thought, Alistair bumps into someone as he turns the corner. 
“...ah. My bad, my bad. I should have been more careful.” 
Alistair scowls, already irritable because of the way his day started off. The person he’s just run into certainly doesn’t help. It’s a familiar face, but not one he’s particularly fond of.
“Hello, Rowan,” Alistair greets half-heartedly, adjusting the collar of his jacket in place. “I didn’t realize you were visiting today.” 
Rowan offers a languid smile. “Yes, well, my father had business in the area, so I thought I’d stop by.” 
“Is uncle doing well?” 
“As well as he can be. No different than usual, I suppose.”
“I see. That’s good to hear.” Alistair awkwardly clears his throat. “Anyways. I’m not feeling too well at the moment, so you’ll have to excuse me for not sticking around. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
He pushes past Rowan as quickly as he can, making no effort to hide his discomfort. Rowan knows it all too well. He’s used to his interactions with his cousin being brief, superficial, and painfully tense. Not that he minds. And besides, there’s something of far greater concern right now.
“Did I hear that right?” Rowan blinks. “Alistair’s fiancée… broke up with him?”
He happened to overhear while he was walking down the hallway, and he could hardly believe his own ears. To think that the engagement Alistair’s parents were so looking forward to would be completely destroyed, in the blink of an eye. It’s just so… so…
Hilarious.
“Pfft—!” 
Rowan covers his mouth with the palm of his hand, struggling to keep from laughing aloud. It’s just too good to be true. It’s the best news he’s gotten in a long time. 
“Ah, incredible,” Rowan chuckles. He wipes a hand across his eyes, which have already begun to tear up from amusement. “That woman, [Name]. She sounds like a fucking riot. Perhaps I ought to meet her for myself.” 
previous | story masterlist | next
Tumblr media
More chapters are available on Quotev!
⊱.⋅follow + post notifications on for story update announcements or join the author's discord!⋅.⊰
🗡️ main masterlist! ♡ character appearances
80 notes · View notes
tragicvampireromanceisland · 2 months ago
Text
thinking so long and hard about joyness once more…like yesss they are very cute and sweet and all but i think them getting together even after their History is sooo interesting. like, does joy first start hanging out around sadness and talking with her more often out of guilt? is it performative? when does it stop being performative?? and at what point does joy realize it’s stopped being performative? how does joy feel when every single interaction she has with sadness after the events of the first movie are just like…constant reminders of how she screwed up with her prior? liking someone who makes her feel that bad when she normally never lingers on what she's done wrong just seems so counterintuitive (fun fact: joy has literally never genuinely apologized for anything she's done, across both movies. she's acknowledged and fixed her mistakes before, sure, but she has never expressed guilt so straightforwardly like that. is she simply incapable of it? or has she just...never given importance to feeling guilty before so long as she can just Fix her mistake? just something very interesting i've noticed...)!!
like, joy’s canonically admitted that she’s literally tried to kick sadness out of headquarters before. that’s truly how little joy thought of her before she got to know her better…she totally would have been fine with just. never seeing her again. imagine disliking your coworker THAT much since the very first day you met her and now you have feelings for her…?! not a possibility joy ever would have considered, and i think joy would struggle a Lot with coming to terms with that initially. she is the Queen of cognitive dissonance. of being Delusional. it’s HARD to shake off old habits just like that!! joy is someone who very much doesn’t fully acknowledge how she feels until it gets so intense it bubbles up to the surface and breaks through her usual demeanor (we’ve seen that both with how she’s gotten sad and angry before…who’s to say romance would not be the same. i think she’d just keep denying it until she just. has an Ah Shit moment with sadness one day. probably over something completely mundane).
and it certainly doesn’t help that sadness is, well. Sadness! she clearly admires joy from the very beginning even when joy treated her so poorly (knowing her she probably thought she deserved it…sigh). she’d literally just assume absolutely nothing would come out of her feelings. and you know she probably might even romanticize and Enjoy it in a weird way…i mean think about it. she canonically likes sad romance novels…this is her own "tragic romance" (apparently. SUPPOSEDLY) so i think she’d kind of insistently cling to that. define their entire relationship as unrequited and reallyyy lean into it and warp anything that happens otherwise to fit her little Doomed Yuri vision. she's observant as hell for pretty much everything, normally, but she just has goddamn Horse Blinders on for just this one thing specifically.
she’s just completely unaware of how fundamentally she’s changed joy and shattered her entire worldview (meanwhile joy is just busy having a whole crisis about exactly that). and NOW she has to deal with actually being treated like she matters, both by joy and the other emotions?? helloooo? she’s definitely got a lot to process by this point because Her entire way of living has changed too now in an entirely different direction.
AND then you add to that how it's pretty clear that sadness knows joy pretty well, but joy still has a Lot to learn about sadness because she never gave her a chance before...very much a recipe for guilt and confusion and miscommunication and other such weird occurrences to arise.
BASICALLY tldr theyre both kind of idiots and i think their dynamic is a little more complicated than people give it credit for. joyness is a veryyy. She fell first (sadness) she fell harder (joy) type of dynamic. To Me.
87 notes · View notes
becausebuckley · 14 days ago
Text
michelle's buddie fic recs: week 45!
what a week... i'm greatly enjoying all of the post-8x06 buddie fic (many more recs to come!) and took some time to revisit old favourites, which can be found in previous rec lists. enjoy!
this is a mix of fics with all ratings, so some include NSFW content. please take a look at both the ratings and the fic tags before reading! some might also contain spoilers for season 8.
if you come across something you like in this list, remember to show some love to the author by leaving kudos and a comment!
all that we need | not1_2write | 26.4k | M
When Buck buys a Powerball lottery ticket he doesn't think much beyond his need for change to air up his tire. He forgets all about the ticket until word spreads that the winning ticket was sold in LA and hasn't been claimed yet and pretty much dismisses it. After all, there's no way he won the lottery. Turns out no, he really did win the Powerball, to the tune of 295 million dollars and just in time for Christmas. He's going to make sure the 118 has the best Christmas of their lives. And just maybe he'll have a good one too. idk about all of you but i do dream about winning the lottery regularly (way too often for someone who's never bought a ticket, that's for sure). this is such a lovely look at what buck would do with a whole lot of money <3
i take this magnetic force of a man | playinginthunderstorms/@playinginthunderstorms | 9k | M
Turns out, he isn’t actually afraid of commitment. He’s just afraid of committing to the wrong thing, or the wrong person. Ana, obviously, had been a mistake, because he hadn’t been ready, and he’d put other people’s expectations above his own wants and needs. With Marisol, he’s done the same thing. Moved too fast, doing what he thinks is the right thing according to who? His parents? For Chris’s benefit? Again, pushing past his own comfort, discarding any doubt because it doesn’t fit like… Like Buck. blanket rec for one of my favourite authors who has been posting incredible fics lately!! this one in particular is so beautifully written and so romantic and just so very buddie <3
if i need to rearrange my particules i will for you | thelikesofus/@thelikesofus | 7.9k | GA
Eddie catches a cold and Buck takes care of him while having a minor, non-platonic emotional crisis. this is definitely influenced by the fact that i've been ill myself but wow truly nothing hits as hard as buddie taking care of each other when one of them isn't feeling well. the bed sharing in this is so good <3
let me | facewithoutheart/@facewithoutheart | 1.6k | T
Eddie doesn't think he needs romance. Buck, respectfully, disagrees. AKA the fic where Buck picks Eddie up and kisses him breathless against a wall. and buck is so right for doing that!! i love it when buck turns eddie to jello <3 so lovely!
second child, restless child | lesbianrobin/@lesbianrobin | 23k and counting| M
how Evan and Maddie make it out of Pennsylvania, and Buck and Maddie build a family. okay so listen these past few weeks i've been doing this thing where i only rec finished fics, and every time i scroll through my ao3 history for these rec lists, i come across this one and go oh i wish i could rec this already. and then i realised wait it's my rec list i can do whatever i want, and so then i did. anyway, mind the tags for this one, but wow are you in for a treat here! i love the character dynamics (chim is brilliant in this!! and maddie!!) and i'm so so excited to see the rest of this fic unfold <3
said that i was fine, said it from my coffin | justhockey/tumblr | 7.3k | T
And it doesn’t matter that he feels like he’s dying. Like the version of himself that he’s always been is suddenly a stranger to him - just a mask he’d spent his entire life hiding behind, without ever even realising he was wearing it. It doesn’t matter that Eddie is…that he’s gay. Because he knows - as surely as he knows that the sun will rise again tomorrow - that the only person he has ever, and will ever, truly love is Buck. And Buck isn’t his to love. another blanket rec for an author who's been posting incredible fics!! this one in particular has such brilliant eddie characterisation and i just devoured it the second i got that little ao3 email hehe
there's no place like home-spun | icewhisper | 4.1k | GA
Buck has spent most of his life trying to find something to settle fidgeting hands and the restless need for a home. He found the key to the latter when he was thirteen. He finds the former in a cozy home on South Bedford Street with two of his favorite people. (AKA the Buck-crochets fic that literally no one asked for.). this fic makes me want to learn how to crochet. i am the least crafty person ever and i have like minus time but just know that if two weeks from now i'm posting about yarn and crochet hooks and whatnot, it's all thanks to this fic. i love buck who crochets so very much <3
you get your dreams for free | llovely/@butchdiaz| 14.9k | T
five times buck and eddie cuddle drunk and one time they cuddle sober. buddie bed sharing my absolute favourite. i read this late at night curled up under three blankets and it hit just right <3
122 notes · View notes
gummydummy19 · 3 months ago
Text
Month seven (November): shower me with love
Summary: You do your friend a favour and drag Sy with you to go house-sitting (more like mansion-sitting, but whatevs)
A/N: Oh my god I'm excited for this one... I know this literally took me a million years (apologies AGAIN). I have missed these two like crazy, so without further ago, get cozy and happy reading <3
Word Count: 4k+
(this is part seven of my series: A year in apartment 6B)
Tumblr media
The days had been shortening, slowly but surely getting gloomier. Most people hated it. The cold and the darkness. Wet pavement, foggy windows, rosy cheeks, and leaky noses.
You found it charming. It made you appreciate the coziness of your home even more. the home you'd been living in for almost seven months now.
While the rain tapped against the floor-to-ceiling windows of your office, you found yourself thinking of that very home. You couldn't wait to finish work and rush back to your apartment, curling up on your couch with yet another sappy romance novel.
"Can I ask you a favor?" your thoughts were interrupted by Elizabeth, your chaotic but very sweet work bestie. You met her during your first week at the office. She found you cursing yourself in the copy room trying to figure out how the printer worked you guys had stuck together ever since. It was nice to have someone to have lunch with and fill you in on office gossip.
"What now Liz?", you sighed jokingly.
She looked around to see if anyone was listening before whispering "Break room, now." and walking off. You quickly got up and followed her, wondering what this was about.
"Clark's assistant asked me to housesit for him while he's on his business trip next weekend."
Clark was our boss. Handsome guy, tall, rich, and always in a freshly pressed suit. He wasn't really your type, but according to Liz he always smelled delicious. Of course, she would know, she had been secretly seeing him for over a month now. It was all very exciting.
"Okay?..." you questioned, not really understanding what the problem was.
"It's the Paris trip..."
Right.
Office romance was very exciting indeed, but also very forbidden, and even though Clark was our boss, he wasn't the boss of the company.
Of course, he asked her to come to Paris with him. You knew it was hard for them to keep away from each other, it was truly adorable to see them try though. No one would have to know. It would be their perfect weekend away.
Except that now his assistant had asked Liz to housesit for him, just to feed his cats and water his plants, and she had no good reason to say no so she didn't. Which then brought her here, in the break room, begging you to cover for her.
'Why didn't you just say no?' you asked
'I panicked! I didn't want him to suspect anything so I just went along with it. Could you please do it for me? Please?'
You wanted to help her. You really did, but the thought of leaving Sy alone for an entire weekend when he still wasn't fully healed made your stomach twist
"Oh Liz...I don't...I mean...Sy is still not..."
"You can take him with you!" she quickly spat, "Think of it as a little weekend away together. Doesn't that sound fun?"
'We're not a couple, Liz!" you blushed
"Oh please you're basically married." she shushed, "Come on, you don't have to stay all weekend just check his mail, water his plants and feed his cats, that's all! Besides, his house is gorgeous, and it has an indoor pool! Didn't the doctor say swimming was good exercise?"
"I guess he did yeah..." you mumbled, "ugh, fine! But you owe me!"
"oh, you're the best!" she squealed, jumping up and down before giving you a bone-crushing hug.
"You better bring me back some ridiculously expensive gift" you joked as you tried to contain your own smile, secretly excited about your weekend with Sy.
_______________________________________________________
'So we have to spend the weekend in some rich snob's house because he wants to fuck his employee overseas?"
"Hey! She's my friend and they are in love!" you shot back
"Oh, I'm sure they are..." he mumbled, rolling his eyes, "I would be too if I got free trips to Paris"
"Don't be such a grump, Sy"
"What about Aika? We can't just leave her all weekend?"
"Your mom is picking her up this afternoon." you simply said
"My mo-...You spoke to my mother?"
"Yeah, she's been asking to see Aika for weeks! She sends her love by the way."
Sy silently thanked the lord for making this a regular phone call and not one of those Facetime situations because he wasn't in the mood to explain why his cheeks grew red at the thought of you being friendly with his mom.
"Right..." he grumbled.
"So you're in then? The doctor did say you needed exercise, Sy. You can't just stay cooped up in the apartment. It'll be fun!" you tried to convince him.
"Alright alright, fine, I'm in"
"Yay! Pack a weekend bag, I'll pick you up after work." you told him, "Oh, and don't forget your swim shorts!"
"My what?!" Sy asked, but you had already hung up the phone, leaving him in regret already
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Holy fucking shit"
Sy's deep voice boomed through the desolate entrance hallway of the Kent Residence.
"Normally I'd tell you to watch your mouth but...damn," you added, staring at the crystal chandelier hanging from the exceptionally high ceiling.
"Hey, check this out!" Sy called from the living room.
You were so wrapped up in your surroundings, that you hadn't even noticed he wasn't standing next to you anymore.
"May I please remind you that this is my boss's place? You can't just go around and touch every- HOLY FUCK THAT'S BIG"
You found Sy with a remote in his hand, standing in front of what was probably the biggest television you had ever seen in your entire life. I mean, it genuinely bordered on a home cinema. It was ginormous.
"You know Sugar, usually when I hear a woman say something like it it's not about a TV," he grinned, making you blush before you hit him with a pillow, hoping he wouldn't notice.
"You're an idiot," you claimed, trying not to laugh but miserably failing.
"You love it," he grinned again, making you roll your eyes.
"Whatever Syverson, I'm gonna go check out the rooms."
"Hold on, I'm coming with you before you snatch the best one."
Sy was hot on your heels as you rounded the corner. His massive chest colliding with your back when you came to a sudden stop.
“Holy. Shit.”
You stared in awe at what was the most gorgeous indoor pool you had ever seen in your entire life (well in all honesty, it was the only indoor pool you had ever seen in real life)
There were floor to ceiling windows and rows of luxurious pool chairs on each side.
“Damn, does this guy crap money?”
Sy’s rough baritone snapped you out of your astonishment, earning him yet another (playful) eye-roll
You and Sy snooped wandered around the mansion for good 20 minutes before you even got to the upstairs area. There was a long hallway leading up to beautiful French doors.
"That's probably the master bedroom, right?", you questioned, motioning towards the doors.
"Probably", he mumbled, "let's go check it out."
"No wait! We shouldn't...", you grabbed his arm, "It's not nice to snoop."
"Oh please, what have we been doing for the past half hour?", he chuckled, "Won't hurt to look, right?"
"Alright fine...just in and out, no unnecessary touching."
"Funny, that's exactly what my last hook-up said."
Sy whistled behind you as the bedroom was revealed.
"Sweet baby Jesus...." you mumbled, eyes wide as you took in the gorgeous interior.
Everything looked luxurious and expensive. Panel pair curtains matched the shades of the bedsheets and the accent wall. There were fresh flowers on what looked like a pure sandalwood dresser with golden details. Everything was perfect.
"I call dibs," Sy announced, making you snap your head at him.
"Like hell! I'm the one who got us here,"
"Correction, you are the one who forced us to come here, so it would only be fair if I got the master bedroom. As a reward for coming with you," he explained, crossing his arms.
"You're joking, right? What happened to 'Don't ya worry Sugah, I'm a real Southern gentleman!'" you imitated in a thick Southern accent.
"Hey, I do not sound like that!" he pointed his finger at you and you couldn't help but giggle.
"Settle down, cowboy. I'll check the other rooms." The truth is, yeah, that master bedroom was gorgeous, but you cared about Sy and he was still hurt, so if he wanted the master bedroom, you'd gladly let him have it.
You marched toward the closest room, ready to be stunned again. But when you tried the door, you couldn't get it open. You tried the handle again, rumbling the door a little.
"Locked?" Sy questioned.
"Maybe it's a home office, there might be private papers and stuff."
"Or a sex dungeon,"
"You are sick, Syverson. Really fucking sick."
He chuckled at that and you quickly turned around again, partly to try the next door, partly to hide the smile he had managed to put on your face.
"What the...it's locked again. Could you try that one?"
You and Sy tried every single door that could possibly be a bedroom, only to find them all locked. It was getting kinda ridiculous at this point, so you decided to text Liz.
Tumblr media
"Sneaky bitch..." you mumbled as you stared at your phone screen.
"So?" Sy asked, "what did she say?"
"She uhm,...the key isn't here, he forgot."
"He forgot?" he frowned
"Apparently..." you looked around awkwardly.
Liz was so fucking dead when she got back from her stupid Paris trip.
“Guess we’re bunking together then, roomie” Sy grinned, but when he saw you awkwardly shuffling around and stare at your feet instead of grinning back at him, he nudged your shoulder “hey, I’m kidding, I can sleep on one of the pool chairs or something it’ll be fine”
“Sy, don’t be ridiculous I’m not letting you sleep on a pool chair”
“What? I’ve slept on worse, come to think of it, its kinda look our cots back on base, it’ll feel just like home”
“Base is home?” You said it without even thinking, the words tumbled over your lips before you could stop them and you couldn’t help but pair them with a slightly saddened expression.
“I didn’t mean it like that…”
“I mean I kinda get that, I can imagine it grows on you”, you felt like you were treading dangerous territory, but so was he. He knew you worked so hard to make your place a home, he truly didn’t mean to-
“Wanna go for a swim?” You interrupted his thought spiral
“I’d love to”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
You dipped your toes in the water, finding it perfectly heated.
You had gotten changed first, covering yourself in your fluffy bathrobe before heading for the pool and waiting for Sy there, while impatiently checking the temperature.
"How is it?"
Once again the deep bass of Sy's voice pulled you back to the present.
"It's perfect. I'm not surprised, to be honest, he probably has some fancy heating syste-euhm...", your voice trailed off when you saw Sy's beautifully beefy chest. His baggy swim trunks hung low on his hips and the hair from his chest trailed down all the way to-
"Sugar?"
"P-perfect", you babbled, "UH- the water! It's perfect...nice and warm"
He threw his signature grin your way and you swore you felt your knees buckle. That grin was almost too much to handle on a regular day. The grin + him shirtless + THE SNAIL TRAIL???? Yeah you didn't stand a chance.
"You gonna swim with the robe on, Sugar?"
"Jeez, Captain if you wanted me to strip that bad all you had to do was ask"
Alright, you may have sounded confident, but this was all fake it till you make it.
Sy jumped in the water to hide his grin, nearly splashing you in the process.
You threw your robe on one of the pool chairs and your eyes found his right as he resurfaced. He took you in, you could tell. For a second you had the urge to cover yourself up, hiding the parts your black bikini failed to cover, but you opted against it, desperately trying to keep the confident act up.
It was quiet for a second or two while you just looked at each other.
"Perfect...", his voice was barely above a whisper, "The uh..., the water. You were right, the temperature is perfect."
You couldn't help but smile as you realized he was just as nervous as you were. Finally, you fully got in the pool too, relaxing a bit as the warm water surrounded you.
"I could get used to this", you sighed.
"We could put a kiddy pool in our living room If that makes ya feel better?"
You snorted at that, "Yeah, and then have Aika jump in and our entire place smelling like wet dog? No thanks, that kinda takes away the whole relaxing aspect in my opinion"
"Oh alright, Miss Fancy", he splashed some water your way.
"Fuck SY! I wasn't gonna wet my hair!" you shrieked.
"What kinda bullshit is that? Why would you get in the pool if you didn't wanna wet your hair?", his eyebrows furrowed, "too late now anyway, Sugar" he chuckled, splashing you again, right in your eyes this time.
"Ah, shit!" your hands flew to your face as you frantically rubbed your eyes as you turned away from him to shield yourself.
"Shit! Sorry, Sugar, u okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine you fucking idiot", realization didn't hit you until you saw the black streaks on your palms, "Fuck, I was wearing makeup", you mumbled.
Alright. You knew it was ridiculous, wearing makeup to the pool. But it wasn't a lot or anything, just some mascara and a little bit of concealer here and there. You weren't even planning on it, honest to god. But when you thought about Sy seeing you in a bikini for the first time you couldn't help but feel a bit insecure, so you needed something to bump your confidence, just a little bit.
You should have known boys will always be boys. And there's no keeping it dry when Sy is around anyway.
"Sugar? You can turn back around now, I promise no more splashing",
Ugh fuck fuck fuck...You still had your back to him. You couldn't turn around now, you probably looked like a panda. And you didn't want him to know you wore makeup to the pool, he would never stop laughing at you.
"I uh...I think I'm gonna get out...I'm getting kinda cold", you tried to keep your face away from him as you made your way to the ladder, but as per usual, he was too quick for you.
"What? The pool is heated, besides, I can keep ya warm. I swear I'm sorry Sugar, c'mon don't leave?", you felt his big hands circle your waist under the water, pulling your floating body closer to him in a matter of seconds. Your back hit his warm fuzzy chest and you stiffled a moan.
Okay, he wasn't gonna let you leave, new plan...
You desperately wiped under your eyes, hoping to god he wouldn't see.
"Wh-are you...are you crying?", he sounded genuinely concerned, "Did I hurt you? I didn't mean to Sugar I promise, lemme see", he carefully turned you around in his arms
"No no, Sy you didn't hurt me, I'm not crying I just..." your eyes met his and for a second he looked even more confused, "Why do you look like Batman?", he grinned.
"Ugghhhh..." you groaned in embarrassment, "I just...I just tried out a new mascara this morning and I forgot I had it on...I have makeup wiped in my bag upstairs just lemme go take it off", you rambled trying to get out of his grip but he didn't budge.
"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Sugar, just do that later."
"Sy, I'm not being ridiculous I LOOK ridiculous, just let me go fix it I'll be back in a minute."
You tried leaving again, but this time his big paws grabbed you by the face, gently but still firm.
"You don't look ridiculous, Sugar...C'mere..."
For a second you thought he was going to kiss you and your eyes fell shut, but instead, you felt his thumbs wipe away the dark streaks.
"There ya go...all better", he smirked. "No more Batman."
"Ugh, shut up", now it was your turn to splash him.
"Oh don't start what you can't finish, dear." his devilish smirk was enough to make you squeal as you backed up.
"No, Sy come on! My hair!", you swam as fast as you could, and just when you thought you could get away, you felt a hand wrap around your ankle.
"Oh no ya don't", he pulled you back to him within seconds, and just like that...your hair wasn't the only thing getting wet against your will...
"I think your face could use another wash," was all he said before pushing your shoulders down under the water, you came back up immediately gasping for air.
"I can't believe you did that!" you sputtered as he just stood there laughing. You didn't even think before jumping on his back, trying to push him down. Looking back that may have been a dumb idea because the captain didn't budge. If anything, it just made him laugh harder. "Aww, isn't that cute? Well, Sugar if I'm going down, I'm taking you with me..."
"No, Sy", you felt his arms tighten around your legs, "no no no no no n-" he dove underwater, keeping his promise and indeed taking you with him.
"T-truce" you breathed out the second you got up for air, "truce truce truce!", you were out of breath, probably looking like a drowned panda bear and the chlorine mixed with your leftover mascara was stinging in your eyes, "fucking hell, this was not as relaxing as I had in mind", you muttered to yourself.
Sy chuckled, obviously he was looking handsome as ever while you felt like you looked like you were just spit out by something.
"C'mere...truce accepted," he gently pulled you against him again, his fingertips trailing down your sides to your thighs, 'up', he commanded and you unsurely wrapped your legs around his waist, letting him guide you. "there ya go, good girl."
You felt your cheeks heat up and told yourself it was just from his body heat.
You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and snuggled into the crook of his neck while he slowly floated the both of you through the warm water. A wave of exhaustion suddenly came over you. You were too tired and comfortable to overthink what exactly was happening.
_____________________________________________________________
"Hey Sugar..."
"Hmmm?"
"I really think we just get out now..."
It took you a while to realize you were still in the pool, still in Sy's arms.
"Hm fuck...did I...did I fall asleep?"
"Only a little"
"How long was I out?"
"A good 20 minutes, never seen ya shut up for that long, had to check if you were still breathing"
You wanted to make a snarky comment but all you could muster was a grin before finally peeling yourself off of him and getting out of the water.
"Im starving," Sy said as he reached for his towel.
"Yeah, me too. Do you wanna order pizza? I'm too scared to touch anything in that kitchen"
"Sounds good, probably for the best anyway, don't need ya setting the place on fire"
You threw one of your towels at his face, "Shut it, Syverson. I'm showering first and if I were you i'd be nice to me cause I won't hesitate to use up all the hot water."
"S'fine, Sugar. I'm a military man. Nothing I can't handle", he grinned and watched you turn around with a smirk on your face.
"I could probably do with a cold shower anyway..." he muttered to himself as he watched you walk away, thanking all that was good and pure for not letting you notice the massive hard-on he was hiding while you were snoozing in his arms.
"You order, I shower", you yelled back, "I'll take pepperoni, Cap!"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
45 minutes later you and Sy sat on the massive suede couch, freshly showered, clad in fluffy white bathrobes, and munching on pizza.
"That's such bullshit!" you laughed
"Is not! I swear to you, Sugar! He just stood there in nothing but a thong. Traumatized the entire squad."
"Where the hell did he get a thong in the middle of the desert?!"
"Fuck do I know?! He musta brought it with him?"
You were dying laughing, like actually proper laughing. Tears nearly in your eyes, face red hot, snorting out laughing.
"Sy, there is no way one of your men walked around on base in the middle of the night in nothing but a thong."
"Sugar, I swear to ya, I'm a lot'a things, but a liar ain't one of 'em."
"So what did you do?"
"Sent the fucker home."
"Maybe that was his plan all along? Maybe he just wanted to get sent home?"
"Maybe, Sugar. Maybe." he took another swig of his beer as you chomped down the last bite of your pizza and a comfortable silence settled over you.
"I think I should probably head to bed, I'm exhausted."
"Yeah, me too", he agreed, "I'll just take some things out'a the room and then I'll be good to sleep here."
"Sy, please, don't be silly", you argued, "I was drooling on your shoulder barely an hour ago, I'm sure we can share a bed for one night."
He chuckled at that, "Alright I guess you got a point there, but only if you're sure."
"Yeah, I'm sure genius, but no funny business", you pointed your finger at him.
"Yes ma'am, Roger that", he smirked.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror.
Skincare done, teeth brushed, hair blow dried, perfume sprayed, pajamas on.
Alright, okay. There's only so much you can do to get ready for bed.
"You're gonna have to go out there sooner or later" you spoke softly to your own reflection.
Jesus Christ this was ridiculous. This was YOUR idea. It's just sleeping. You did it before. Earlier tonight, in fact. Just get out there, get in the bed, close your eyes, and go to sleep. Nothing special.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe you wanted it to be special. What if he didn't? Oh god, what if he DID?
You took a deep breath and finally opened the door.
"Sorry I took so long, I couldn't find my night cre-...Sy?"
There he was. Bulging shoulders on full display, the muscles on his back moving with each breath, the waistband of his boxers peeking out just above where the sheets covered his butt.
His bearded face snuggled into his pillow, his large arms curling underneath it.
You couldn't help but smile as you looked down at him. The true definition of a gentle giant. It was beyond you how someone could look so fucking sexy and so fucking cute at the same time.
You finally crawled into bed next to him, careful not to wake him up. But as you turned over on your side to turn your nightlight off, you suddenly his beefy arm snaked its way around you and pulled you close to him.
You barely managed to flip the switch before feeling his warm chest against your back again. His beard tickled the back of your neck a little making you grin, soft snores telling you he was still fast asleep..
It felt so good, so safe, so warm, so comfortable...you dozed off with a smile on your face, and not a care in the world...
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
taglist:
@metalbuckaroo
@princessayveke
@montsepliego
@scxrletrecsmarvel
@hopelesslyrogers
@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer
@tfandtws
@vicmc624
@ahahafudge
@enchantedbarnes
@wickedravyn
@pono-pura-vida
@amayaraestyles
@matchat3a
@fictional-hooman
@sebastianexplicit
@peaches1958
@avengersfan25
@jamneuromain
@tryingtoliveonmywishes
@mrsevans90
@daybreak96
@tiredqueen73
@fallingforunrealisticromance
@identity2212
@randomweirdoss
@ragamuffin285
@juliaorpll78
@geralts-yenn
@imjusthereforliam
@bangtanstoeart
@squeezyvalkyrie
@enchantedbytomandhenry.
@superduckmilkshake
@kingliam2019
@bascmve01
@missgaygurl
@foxyjwls007
@mollymal
@urmomsgirlfriend1
@luxeydior
@beck07990
@liecastillo
@warriormirkwood
@vintage-is-my-middle-name
@lucinapomona
@madebylilly
@nothingbettertosay81
@est1887
113 notes · View notes
neyafromfrance95 · 3 months ago
Text
are we EVER going to talk about the ageism against women properly?
bc it has been growing rampant in gen z and the arguments against it aren't exactly addressing the issue through examining the double standards people have for women and men.
yes, ageing is a privilege but i don't think that this argument is doing anything to dismantle the patriarchal mentality that is ingrained in our culture.
in many ways, people's counterpoint to "women expire after the xyz age" is basically "well, ageing is a privilege and natural so you should be ok with being an expired undesirable grandma whose only purpose is taking care of children bc at least you're not dead". we are never going to actually dismantle the ageism against women if this is our only argument.
we have to address the fact that women aren't allowed the same standards that men are.
men are allowed to have two types of desirability - a boy and a man. we don't say that men in their 50s look good *for* their age, we say that they grew well into their age, we simply say that they are attractive 50 years olds.
but women can only be and feel beautiful and desirable if they are young. if a woman in her 50s is objectively fine, we say that she looks good *for* her age, insinuating that there is no way she could ever *just* look good at 50, no "for"s, since she isn't 19-25 anymore and that's the only age range when a woman is truly attractive and desirable.
isn't this actually abhorrent? the fact that people can live up to about 100 years but women are taught to believe that only in 6 of these years they are in their prime? that patriarchy tells women that after their early 20s they are expired and the only valid way for them to be desirable and beautiful is to try to replicate the qualities of the 20 years old version of themselves that according to the same patriarchy, older women can no longer posses?
and the argument that women should not wish to be desirable at all in the name of feminism is very faulty, imo. it often comes from young and pretty women who don't really understand what being deemed "undesirable" in society means. the assumption that women being ok with the patriarchy telling them that they should feel expired after 25, should feel like they looked better in their 20s even if they take a better care of themselves now, should just do the "grandma" stuff while their male counterparts still get to experience romance and the life to its fullest, is not going to be some kind of a feminism win.
the "ageing is a privilege" has started to feel like an argument for women to once again settle for the bare minimum (at least you aren't dead) and conform to the unfair limitations the patriarchy forces on women.
i think what needs to change is us giving these misogynistic double standards any sort of validation. they are not rooted in some kind of universal truth about the inherent difference between men and women, they are rooted in patriarchy. we need to stop acting like younger and older women are in competition and start acknowledging that both are desirable and beautiful in their own ways.
i know that this post won't get much traction, but i feel like we need to talk about this topic more bc the internalized ageism that gen z women have is going to mess them up and the counterpoints to their assumptions are sometimes weak and unhelpful.
edit: thanks for yall's input in the reblogs! i would love to hear more from people so please feel free to reblog and say all that's on your mind regarding this subject since we really need to start addressing this and keep the conversation going!
91 notes · View notes