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dobrikdolanfan · 5 years ago

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Make Time For Me - David Dobrik

Requested: Nope, this is one of the times where I just use my imagination. Warnings: swearing Authors Note: This is one of the first pieces I wrote! I haven’t proof read it so I apologise if there’s any spelling errors! You walked excitedly into David's, expecting to see him there on the couch, but instead finding only Natalie on the couch. You huffed in frustration, before stomping into his living room, and plopping down on the couch next to her. "Hey y/n" Natalie smiled at me, grabbing her purse. "Hey Nat, where's David?" You asked, rubbing your temples to relieve some of the stress you had from your long day. "He went with Jeff and Jason to shoot something for the vlog I think. Anyway I'm going out for the night but stay until he gets back" She smiled at you, heading over to the door. "Okay, thanks. Have fun tonight" You smiled back at her as she walked out the door. When she was gone, you rolled your eyes in annoyance and decided you'd get some extra school work done since you had your stuff with you while you waited from him to return from wherever the hell he was this time. You sent him a quick text, questioning his whereabouts, before digging into your textbook. Your phone buzzed in your lap and you saw David had replied, saying he'd forgot about you coming over, he was sorry and he'd be there in fifteen minutes. You sighed and threw your phone on the couch beside you, choosing to ignore your irritating boyfriend. This was the fourth time this week that he had either cancelled on you, or forgotten/changed your plans. It was safe to say you were getting pretty fed up with him.

Around fifteen minutes later, the door swung open and David came in, dumping his Tesla keys on the side. "Baby, I am so sorry. I'm an idiot and completely forgot." He walked over to you, he leaned down to give you a kiss, but you turned your head to the side, letting his lips fall onto your cheek instead. He furrowed his eyebrows at you, but you chose to ignore him as you continued to type up your essay, "Everything okay baby?" David asked hesitantly.

"Mhm." You mumbled with a straight face. David sighed and rubbed his face with his hand briefly before running his hands through his messy hair, trying to think of what to say to make you forgive him.

"Y/N, I told you that I'm sorry." He slowly sat down next to you on the couch and softly placed his hand on your shoulder, but you shrugged him off. You slapped your laptop closed and looked at him with annoyance clear on your face. "I understand that you're upset, but I had to get some stuff for my video and I-" He started to make excuses, but you cut him off completely.

"I don't want your fucking excuses David!" You snapped, looking up from your laptop and placing it on the coffee table in front of you, your attention now turned back to David. "This is the first time I've seen you properly in like two weeks. You can't fucking expect me to forgive you instantly and forget why I'm mad at you when you say sorry!" You stood up from the couch and paced around his living room while he just remained sat down, listening to you, "Do you not care about our relationship anymore?" Your voice broke a bit at the end, regretting what you said as you didn't want to hear the answer you were afraid to get. David's eyes went wide, and he rose from the couch and walked over to you, grabbing your hands.

"Of course I do!" He protested, gently squeezing your hands. You tugged your hands away from his and ran it through your hair in a frustrated manner.

"Then why haven't you been acting like it David?!" You argued, finally unleashing all of the anger and annoyance that had been bubbling up inside of you, "We were suppose to have a fun night on Saturday night, but you cancelled because you wanted to go to the club again to film. Then, you were suppose to come to mine for dinner on Wednesday night, but you forgot until Natalie reminded you and by the time you got to my place, I’d already eaten so you just went back out to meet Toddy and Zane. And tonight, do you even know what tonight's plan was?" You asked, raising your voice slightly as your eyes filling up but you blinked the tears away, determined not to cry in front of David. You could almost see the gears grinding in David's head as he tried to remember what we were supposed to be doing tonight. You scoffed at him with a slight eye roll.

"Baby, I'm sorry. I've just been doing so much for the vlogs lately and you know how forgetful I am!" He continued to try and defend himself, but you weren't tolerating any of his excuses. Not tonight anyway.

"Well, I'm sorry for expecting you to want to see your girlfriend at least once a week, especially on our anniversary. Considering you see your friends every fucking day David!" You felt like you could tear your hair out as you ran your fingers through it again.

"Well, you've been busy lately too!" He argued back, trying to turn the blame on you and you looked at him in disgust. "I'm just saying you haven't been around much either." He crossed his arms over his chest and you felt like you could scream loudly at the level of frustration that was running through your veins and causing your blood to boil.

"I'm in fucking college David! My final exams are literally like next week, and I need to finish my fucking thesis statement in time for my graduation! Do you have any idea how stressed I am?" You raised your voice once again, letting out a loud frustrated sigh before continuing. "Me spending most of my time studying for my exams, is a different than you getting shooting people with a fucking paintball gun." You spat out. This offended David, as he always had an insecurity that you thought you were better than him because you were in college and on your way to getting a 'real' job.

"Oh, here we go again." He rolled his eyes at you and walked towards his kitchen, you followed closely behind him and watched angrily grab a bottle of water from the fridge. "What do you mean?" You questioned, lowering your voice slightly

"Y/n I'm sick of you being so damn high and mighty! I know you're busy with college and stuff, but my jobs important too, and you always dismiss it as if it's the easiest thing to do in the world." He took a gulp of water after finishing his sentence. You let out a bitter laugh before responding to his idiotic remark.

"Fine, so we're both busy. At least I always find time to fucking see you! You don't put any effort into our relationship anymore David. You don't even bother to make time for me. If I didn't make plans for us, I'd never see you!" You argued bitterly. David leaned on the kitchen counter, trying to think of what to say next.

"Well, maybe I'm tired of you yelling at me over everything I fucking do." He shrugged, tired of the argument and not caring about what he was saying at this point. You furrowed your eyebrows at his suddenly cold words. "It's all you've been doing lately, bitching at me. I say the wrong thing in vlog and you get mad at me. I spend too much time hanging out with my friends and you get mad at me. I'm late to meet you for another pointless dinner, and you get fucking mad at me! I can't win with you y/n!" He spat out his hateful words, you couldn't fight away the tears rising to your eyes.You felt your throat get tighter as the tears welled in your eyes because of how much anger you had built towards David. You bit your lip to stop the tears brimming in your eyes and looked at your boyfriend with hurt written all over your face.

"Well then, I'm sorry I get mad at you for caring about your stupid video and friends more than me, and I'm so fucking sorry that I'm pissed off that you still haven't realised tonight was out fucking one year anniversary dinner." You choked out as the tears finally escaped your eyes. David's eyes completely softened when the last sentence escaped your lips, as the memories of tonight's plans all rushed back into his mind. You angrily marched back towards the couch, slamming your laptop down and picking it up with your bag before heading to the door. "Y/n. Don't go. I’m sorry. I-" David called, his voice softer than before "save it David" You snapped, opening the door and turning to face him. "Just try to show more effort okay? It's like you don't even care anymore. I love you but I need to focus on my exams. I'll text you when they are over or something and maybe we can go out for our anniversary then, as long as you don't fucking forget or cancel on me like usual. " You remarked coldly before storming out of his house, ignoring his shuts of protest from the kitchen.

#david dobrik #david dobrik x reader #vlog squad #zane hijazi #toddy smith #jeff wittek #natalie mariduena

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solange-lol · 5 years ago

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not so typical love song - ch. 2/13

Chapter Title: Never Fall In Love

Words: 4,751

Art by @lizzybizzyo! <3

read on ao3

---

Nico woke the next morning to his dog, Mrs. O’Leary, licking his face. (How she had gotten into his room, Nico didn’t know, but he blamed Hazel.) The Mastiff was nearly crushing him, being just about the same size as he was. He gave her a quick kiss and a pat on the head before pushing her off of him, rolling over with a groan. Curse the education system for making them get up at ungodly hours.

He heard a notification go off on his phone, and immediately the events of the previous night flooded back into his brain. Nico reached for his phone, hoping for a reply from Blue from the night before. Maybe if he was an early sleeper than he was an early riser. Unfortunately for him, there was no such luck. The notification was just a text from Piper reminding him to print his essay for English. The inbox for his email remained empty, besides the previous emails from the night before.

He clicked on one from Blue, rereading it. Then reading the following email from himself. Nico couldn’t help but smile; the excited tone was evident in his writing. Generally, he wasn’t the biggest fan of change, but this was one he could vouch for. These conversations were something he needed.

Now he was just hoping that Blue would respond again.

The pondering came to an end when Nico realized that if he didn’t start getting ready for school soon, he was going to be late. Quickly jumping out of bed, he threw on the first things he saw in his dresser (perks of an all black wardrobe), which turned out to be an old black and white checkered t-shirt along with black jeans and converse. He then shoved his laptop in his bag, grabbed his phone, and raced down the stairs.

“Nico, hey!” Hazel called from the kitchen. “I made pancakes!”

Hazel’s cooking was amazing, not that Nico would ever admit it. That wasn’t to say that nobody else could cook in their family. Nico’s father had some recipes that he kept from Maria, Nico’s mom, for authentic Italian food. He then passed those down to Nico whose skills were admittedly still limited, but he was improving. Persephone, Nico’s stepmother, was more of a baker.

But Hazel? She could do it all. She knew how to make the soul food her own mother used to cook before she died. Along with that, she was obsessed with Food Network and would try out cuisine from any culture. (She once made a lasagna better than Nico’s own family recipe. This opinion was never voiced out loud, but it was clear when everyone had thirds.)

Unfortunately, if Nico didn’t get in the car in the next two minutes, there was no way his routine would play out as usual.

He leaned over the counter, grabbing a forkful bigger than he probably could fit in his mouth. He shoved it in anyway, though, nodding at the taste and shooting Hazel a thumbs up. Since he couldn’t talk through this giant mouthful of pancake, he settled for miming a steering wheel with his hands and then pointing in the direction of the school as if to ask do you need a ride?

Luckily, Hazel got his little charade and shook her head no. “I’m getting a ride from Frank.”

Nico just raised an eyebrow at her. After a couple of swallows, he managed to say: “I better meet this Frank before you two get serious.”

“He’s in your grade, you probably already know him. Plus, we’ve talked, like, twice. We’re just friends.”

“For the time being,” Nico pointed out.

That earned him a rare eye roll from his sister. “I swear, the moment you mention a girl, you are never going to hear the end of it from me.”

He gave her a harmless glare, but inside, Nico could feel his stomach twist. Right. Almost forgot the entire world thought he was straight after spending the night talking (flirting?) to a random person about how gay he was.

He couldn’t waste anymore time worrying about that, though. Waving to Hazel and calling a goodbye to his dad and stepmom, Nico stepped outside and towards his car.

Before he could step inside it, something caught his eye. Or rather, someone.

Apparently his neighbors had called someone to come mow their lawn, and the guy who was blowing off all the grass onto the road was hot. He had light hair that was peeking out from under his hat, and dark eyes from was Nico could see. The best part, though, was this tight shorts this guy was wearing. He’s pretty sure he’s seen this guy working before, but maybe it was all the conversation last night that just put everything into a new light.

Nico fiddled with the keys in his hand. He was going to be late if he put this off any longer, but who knows? This could be the start of something.

“Hey!” he called out to him. Either the guy didn’t hear him or he just didn’t care, though, because he completely ignored Nico.

“Hey!” Nico tried again, and this time the guy turned around, a puzzled look already crossing his face.

Not knowing what to say next, Nico panicked. “I like your boots!”

The guy squinted in confusion, holding his hand up to his ear and turning off his leaf blower. It was clear he didn’t hear Nico.

“I said I- I like your boots!”

If he wasn’t confused before, the guy was definitely confused now. He just nodded before getting back to work,

Nico sighed, opening his door. What was he thinking anyway? He slumped into the seat, resting his head on the steering wheel, which accidentally caused the horn to beep, and him to jump. Great, now the guy must think he was honking at him.

Nico sighed again. It was going to be a very long day.

---

Picking up his friends was a routine that was established the moment Nico got his license. He no doubt had the nicest car out of his friends and actually kept it clean. Plus, it was just easiest for them all.

Jason was first, followed by Reyna. They lived across the street from each other; they grew up together and had been friends all their lives. While they drove to their next stop (and Nico’s personal favorite), Jason would usually try to analyze his dream and how it was going to affect his day, usually losing both Reyna and Nico halfway through his retelling.

They then stopped for a morning coffee at their local coffee shop. Nico preferred his hot with a shit ton of sugar, Reyna liked tea, and both Jason and Piper preferred iced lattes.

“Oh, can you get Piper’s with almond milk?” Jason said, tapping Nico on the shoulder from his spot in the back seat.

“How do you know so much about Piper’s coffee order?”

“It’s not hard to remember that someone prefers almond milk to regular.”

Nico just rolled his eyes before adding Piper’s request. Jason’s crush on Piper was so obvious, but he still refused to act on it. Something about not knowing her for long enough, since she had only moved to their town that summer.

From there, they went to pick up Piper, who lived on the farther side of town, and then headed for school.

It was a miracle they were still on time considering Nico’s morning tangent. He was so distracted by trying to make the bell that he sort of forgot about Blue.

That was, until third period English when he went to search up a quick fact and noticed a new email notification. There was only one person who knew that email address.

He tried to ignore it, tried to pay attention to the lesson, but his phone felt like it was burning through his pants pocket.

Blue had responded again.

He quickly snapped back to reality and raised his hand.

“Nico?” the teacher asked, and he quickly realized that she had just asked a question judging by the other hands lowering. “What do you think?”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

The teacher sighed, nodding her head in the direction of the door, and Nico rushed out. It felt like he was racing down the hall towards the bathroom, the weight of his phone still heavy in his pocket.

It felt like time was slowing down as he locked himself in the last stall of this thankfully-empty bathroom, staring at the loading screen of the app. Finally, the email popped up.

Nico took a deep breath and tapped it.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 3 at 10:20 AM

Subject: Re: Punchability

I’m so glad I qualify for an exception of punchability. But I’m confused, because I heard there was actually a second punctuality exception for cute guys who don’t know slang (I believe the phrase you are looking for is ‘catch these mittens’) and poor judgement. Re: Nutella, despite being warned.

And how did you know about my interpretive dance skills? Though I don’t really think of it as an extracurricular activity. It’s more of a calling.

I know exactly what you mean about it being easier to be open with someone who doesn’t know you. We exchanged, what? Like 5 emails? Already, you know things about me that I’ve never told anyone else. I guess it makes you think about what it really means to know someone

I’m okay with being each other’s Ultimate Therapists, even if we both suck at it.

-Blue

He let out a shaky breath he didn’t realize he was holding before laughing quietly to himself. Of course Blue would respond, and he did it in typical Blue-humor fashion. It was clear last night that emailing Nico was as therapeutic as it was for Nico emailing him.

Thousands of heat-filled butterflies entered his stomach as he read it over. Was Blue flirting with him? He hardly remembered the conversations last night, but it was clear now that this had gone a little farther than plain old friendly teasing.

He quickly typed a response, already anticipating Blue’s next reply.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 3 at 10:50 AM

Subject: Catch These Mittens

What about me makes you think I have poor judgement? 5 jars of Nutella sounds like a fantastic idea, if you ask me. If anything, I’m not the one with poor judgement; that’s all on YOU, Blue. You’re the one who ate the Nutella, if I remember correctly.

I relate to everything you’re saying, though. I already feel like I can tell you things I haven’t told any of my close friends. I do think a big part of it is the anonymity. It’s not just that, though. It’s weird but I feel like you get me in some way. Which is probably why I responded to your post in the first place. Or maybe it’s just something that comes from nobody knowing you’re gay.

It’s like, I’m not lonely. I have great friends, a better-than-average family. But I still feel lonely more often than not. At least I’ve felt a little less lonely in the past day, thanks to you.

-Angel

It was weird, he’s more honest with Blue than he is with himself. Like some sort of alternate-persona situation. All of the jokes and the extra personality he kept inside himself out of fear was just let loose when he talked to Blue.

Nico tapped send without thinking and almost immediately regretted it. What if Blue was in his English class and saw him rush out? If he had email notifications on, it would be obvious that Nico was on the other side.

Nonetheless, Nico felt his heartbeat speed up with slight excitement and nerves. If Blue found out it was him sending him emails, there was a chance that his undecided maybe-love story could speed up a bit, or at least cure his curiosity about who this other gay kid was. On the other hand, it could also scare Blue away, and Nico really needed him right now.

Nico switched off his phone and pocketed it. He was out too long already, and he needed to get back to class. He could worry about Blue there.

---

Lunch came, and Nico found himself observing the room more carefully. All the juniors had the same lunch period, which meant any guy in that room could be Blue. He was praying it wasn’t like one of those dramatic teen show situations where the homophobic asshole turned out to be the gay one.

Turning to his own lunch table, he realized that any of his own friends could be Blue. They were all theatre kids, which meant it was more than likely at least half of them were queer anyway.

Percy Jackson was sitting directly from his left. He was their stage manager as he loved to lead the team and also couldn’t carry a tune to save his life. The looks made up for it though, with the gorgeous sea green eyes and unkempt black hair. He was a lot taller than Nico (though most people were) and while previously assumed straight, he also doubled as a soccer player along with some of the other guys at their table, including Jason. The way he treated, teased, and tackled Jason, there was no way he wasn’t at least bisexual.

On his other side was Jason, and while Nico admitted he was attractive, his heart eyes for Piper were clear.

Next to Jason were Travis and Connor Stoll, some of the other soccer players. Travis was also part of backstage, but Nico ruled him out as he was dating Katie Gardner. And while Connor was in the show and hypothesized as gay due to some apparent flirting between him and Mitchell that Piper overheard, Nico doubted it was him.

Across from him was Will Solace, who he was only recently introduced to. He wasn’t a part of their theatre program, but he was friends with Lou Ellen and Cecil, both of which were in theatre and who had invited him to the table. Nico hadn’t had many conversations with him, but he had an adorable head of golden curls and blue eyes that reminded Nico of an eclipse. He had thousands of freckles splattered across tan skin. So, a contestant along with the other hundred of guys in his grade.

“Nico?” Will asked, waving in front of his face. Nico snapped out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?”

Will gave him a huge grin, clearly about to ask for something. “Can I have a fry?” he asked, pointing to Nico’s tray.

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He was still halfway in daydream mode, and the words didn’t really register in his brain.

Jason looked curiously. “Is this the day Nico di Angelo finally finds his soul and is kind to another person?” he teased, still managing to find his fatherly humor within him even when surprised. “Guess not,” he continued when Nico flipped him off, and everyone laughed.

They went back to their conversation after that. (Jason was proposing that they all shaved their legs for the next soccer game which would supposedly make them run faster, an idea that was immediately turned down by all the other members.) There’s laughing and teasing; it’s the good-natured humor of his lunch table that begged for him to come out right at that moment. He knew his friends would accept him; he knew he was in a safe environment. And yet, did he know that?

He thought back to what Blue said, about wanting to come out but also being insanely relieved that nobody knew yet. He’s safer when nobody knows. So, he didn’t say a word.

The memory of Blue reminded him that he sent an email earlier in the day, and there’s a chance that Blue may have sent one back during lunch.

Nico pulled out his phone, quickly trying to refresh his email app. Unfortunately, with the amount of kids on their phones in that room, the internet was essentially nonexistent. The screen just kept on loading.

“Why is there no service in this school?” he mumbled to no one in particular as he jumped up from the table. Curious and confused looks from the other members at the table were exchanged, but nobody rushed to follow.

Nico didn’t bother rushing at this point without the promise of an email waiting for him. However, risking pulling out his phone in the hallway turned out to be a mistake, as he bumped right into the vice principal’s wheelchair.

“Nico,” Mr. Brunner addressed him. He was actually pretty nice most of the time, always going out of his way to see what was up with his students. It was almost like he doubled as a guidance counselor. (Mr. Brunner was better at emotional support than their actual guidance counselor, that was for sure.) He was still sort of stuck in the past, though, and while he never gave out detentions for phone use, he did confiscate them.

“Hey, Mr. Brunner. How are you?” Nico winced slightly at his feeble attempts to get out of punishment.

Mr. Brunner didn’t even answer his question. Instead, he just held out his hand. “You know the rules, Mr. di Angelo.”

Nico sighed. If the administrator weren’t so nice and if he was out, he would call this homophobia. Instead, he just bit the bullet and placed his phone in Mr. Brunner’s awaiting palm. “When do I get it back?”

“End of the day, after play rehearsal.” That was another thing, he had somehow memorized everyone’s extracurriculars. “You can come retrieve it in my office.”

Nico nodded. “Got it.” Going the day without knowing if Blue hadn’t responded wasn’t going to be easy, but he didn’t really have a choice.

---

As it turns out, Nico had some sort of heavy reliance on Blue in the past day. Even if they hadn’t known each other for long, and their conversations were short, they still meant a lot. They were a safe space, and the knowledge that he was now derived of that safe space, even for a few hours, made him uncomfortable.

Even in the theater, which was usually Nico’s comfort zone. They spent countless hours a week here. Just about everybody in the cast were friends, all having shared laughs or tears depending on how the rehearsal was going and what kind of mood their director, Mr. D, was in. Even Octavian, who was a slimy, stuck up kid whose body boiled with drama even outside of the auditorium, seemed human during a long rehearsal.

Without his phone, he also had no way to check the time, which meant he was relying on (i.e., bothering the crap out of) all of his friends.

The show itself was going as well as a public high school musical with limited theatre program funding could go.

“That was—” Mr. D started, rubbing his forehead from his spot in the audience. He tapped his pen on his clipboard, still not finishing his sentence. “Peter, help me out here?”

“That was a start?” Percy (Mr. D had a habit of getting his name wrong, even after three years in the program. Probably out of disrespect; they had a weird unspoken feud) supplied. The phrasing was nice, but the message was clear. The show was a complete trainwreck, and they only had until after the holidays to put it together. It was already October.

Mr. D pointed his pen at him. “Yes, that was a start.” He got up from his chair and advanced towards the stage, which meant he was about to change the entire set up.

“Piper,” he hissed between as Mr. D gave new directions to Jason. “What time is it?”

Piper just glared at him from her spot on the half-finished staircase. “Ten minutes since you last asked me!”

“And di Angelo! I need your jazz hands to be more dramatic! You just look like you’re trembling! This is a cabaret, not a breakdown in the bathroom!” He heard a snicker behind him, and turned to wear Percy and Cecil were mocking his shaky jazz hands offstage. If it weren’t for Mr. D standing near, he would have cursed them out.

Instead, Nico just sighed. Usually this was one of his favorite parts of the day, but they were barely halfway through rehearsal, and he already wanted out.

By the time the rehearsal was over, Nico had already packed up all his things and was bolting out of the auditorium.

He skidded to a stop from his near-sprint right outside of Mr. Brunner’s office, taking a moment to collect his breath and play it off as he strolled into the room. (The last thing he needed to do was look attached to his phone, otherwise Mr. Brunner might decide to keep it a little longer.)

“Nico! How was the unplugged afternoon?” Mr. Brunner smiled from his desk.

“Great,” Nico said, forcing a smile and giving a thumbs up. Whatever he had to do to make this conversation go faster.

Mr. Brunner reached into a drawer in his desk to grab Nico’s phone before wheeling around to where he was standing. “You should try it more often, maybe you’ll finally relax a bit.” Nico just laughed and nodded, not really sure how to respond to that. So, Mr. Brunner continued. “I know I’m hard on you, but I’m just looking out for you.” He regarded Nico now with slight concern in his eyes. “You’ve seemed kinda stressed recently, anything you want to talk about?”

Nico just forced another smile. “Nope! I’m good. Just, uh, a lot of homework to do, which means I should probably head home.”

Mr. Brunner nodded, handing Nico’s phone back to him. “Go, do your thing. Just remember, my door is always open.”

The words didn’t register, though, because Nico could see now that he got a notification from Blue. “Right, thanks!” he called, already rushing out of the room and outside.

Nico waited until he was in his car to open up the email.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 3 at 2:46 PM

Subject: Re: Catch These Mittens

I’ve felt less lonely in the past day too. It’s nice to finally have somebody who just gets it. It’s funny, my mom even commented that I’ve been in a good mood lately. I told her it was because Taylor Swift had a new song, but I’m not sure she believed me. I think she knows I’m hiding something.

Anyway, I have a question for you: how did you know you were gay? And I know you said you haven’t come out to anyone yet, but do you think anyone suspects?

-Blue

A car honked behind him, snapping him out of his daydream as he quickly backed out of the parking lot. Nico nearly sped home from there, eager to respond. He barely acknowledged his stepmom or Hazel before grabbing a granola bar and racing up the steps to his room, Mrs. O’Leary right by his heels.

Nico flopped back on his bed, pulling out his laptop from his backpack and typing out a response.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 3 at 5:14 PM

Subject: Re: Catch These Mittens

I keep thinking about this whole coming out thing. I have a pretty open group of friends and a good family, I don’t think they would really be that torn apart over it. Still, though, I’m scared.

You know Mitchell, right? He’s been out for years now and as far as I know nobody has given him too much crap for it. Probably because everybody basically knew (which I feel is a really crappy thing to say, but it’s not like he was that subtle.)

I don’t know where I’m going with this. I guess I just feel like with me it’s hard to tell. I think my dad suspects something because I never talk about girls, but my friends like to joke that I don’t like talking about anyone, even if it’s strictly platonic. But besides that, nobody really talks about it. I mean, ‘who do you think is gay’ isn’t really a hot topic at my lunch table. Or a topic at all. (Though part of me wishes it was, or just wishes I was out, because I’ve had so many good joke opportunities.)

Anyway, as for how I knew I was gay, it was a bunch of little things. My older sister tried to get me into Harry Potter with her (instead I just got obsessed with a card game called Mythomagic.) But everytime she would turn on one of the movies, I would always watch with her. Afterwards I kept having this recurring dream of Daniel Radcliff. I also got really into Panic! at the Disco, and it took me a while to realize it wasn’t really about the music. (Brendan Urie is a god, don’t deny it.) And, of course, the pitiful crushes on half of my friend group.

I’ve never had a girlfriend, and I’m honestly not even sure if a girl has ever even liked me. I just never bothered paying attention to that sort of thing the moment I realized I didn’t have to.

What about you, how did you know?

-Angel

P.S: because I know you’re wondering, I’m a Gryffindor. (Or at least I am according to my sister.) Hope that doesn’t affect this friendship, because I really like emailing you.

He hit send, then immediately fell backwards with a groan. Since when did he become so mushy? If anyone ever saw these emails, he would probably implode. Even the idea of someone reading them made his stomach twist, although that’s probably more about the being-gay-and-in-the-closet thing more than it was about the being-mushy thing.

He stayed in that spot for a few moments, hoping that he’d hear the notification sound of a reply from his laptop, but ten minutes passed with no such luck. So, he sat up, closed the tab, and started to work on his calculus homework instead while he waited. After a while he forgot about Blue.

It’s only when he stepped out of the shower later that night and his phone lit up with a missed notification that he realize he got a response.

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Date: Oct 3 at 6:29 PM

Subject: Re: Catch These Mittens

I know what you mean about the nobody-really-thinking you're gay thing. I mean, I don’t think it’s usually at the top of someone’s mind unless they like you, but you seem to not have much experience with that. Which isn’t a bad thing. Plus, I like you.

And actually, I had my own share of a Brendan Urie crush (who didn’t.) That was actually one of the first things I noticed about your email which, I could be completely wrong here, I believe that’s a P!ATD reference. I hope you don’t expect me to know any other of those alternative-edgy type bands. I’m more of a musical theatre person, which means I have about the same music taste as my Aunt Artemis.

Another one was Game of Thrones. I’m not a huge follower of the show, but every time I watched clips or walked in while my mom was watching it, I was always crushing hard on John Snow.

I’ve never officially had a girlfriend. I had a girl ask me to a seventh grade dance before, but I just really wanted to Cupid Shuffle on my own so I turned her down. She’s actually still one of my close friends to this day, funnily enough, and still showed up at the dance and kicked my butt at Cotton Eyed Joe. So, that turned out to be a better experience.

-Blue

P.S: I think you should actually take the quiz, because you seem more like a Hufflepuff to me. Or maybe I’m just self-projecting my own house onto you (I’m as Hufflepuff as you can get.) But no, even though you claim to be in the fraternity of Hogwarts Houses, I still like emailing you too.

Nico smiled, and unfamiliar heat pooling in his stomach as he reread that last line over and over again.

#solangelo #nico di angelo #will solace #pjo #heros of olympus #pjo hoo big bang #nstls

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heleentje · 6 years ago

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Nachtwacht Sorting

The past... eight months or so, I’ve spent quite a few trips to and fro work amusing myself by figuring out a Sorting for the Nachtwacht characters. Some were easy, some took most of those eight months. And since I’ve missed writing meta, I’m now sharing it with all three of you who care about this show.

A word on the Sorting Hat Chats sorting method

The method I’m using is the Sorting Hat Chats method: based on the Harry Potter houses, but quite a bit more developed.

This method gives people a primary and a secondary house. Your primary is your why, your reasons, what drives you to take certain actions. Your secondary is the how: how you go about reaching your goals, how you react to things.

This might not be the kind of sorting you’re used to from the Harry Potter books. No house is intrinsically good or bad, it’s all about how your traits manifest and how you react to things.

The full explanation is too long for this meta, but you can read it here (and I highly recommend doing so!). All definitions below are taken from that link.

With that said, let’s sort the Nachtwacht characters.

Tl;dr:

Wilko: Slytherin/Gryffindor Vlad: Hufflepuff/Slytherin Keelin: Ravenclaw/Ravenclaw

WILKO

Primary: Slytherin

Secondary: Gryffindor

Slytherin Primaries are fiercely loyal to the people they care for most. Slytherin is the place where “you’ll make your real friends”– they prioritize individual loyalties and find their moral core in protecting and caring for the people they are closest to.

Gryffindor Secondaries charge. They meet the world head-on and challenge it to do its worst. Gryffindor Secondaries are honest, brash, and bold in pursuit of things they care about. Known for their bravery, it is almost a moral matter to stay true to themselves in any situation that they’re in.

Of all the characters, Wilko was by far the easiest to sort. He is stubborn, he is brash, he charges straight at danger with no regard for his own safety. These are all the traits of a textbook Gryffindor secondary.

The Gryffindor primary would be exceptionally ill-suited to him, though. Lofty ideals are wasted on him. Doing the Right Thing is never as important as doing right by the people he cares about. And Wilko cares a whole lot; he is an open and guiltless Slytherin primary. Unlike Vlad, Wilko’s circle of people is limited: Vlad and Keelin and Vega, Sacha and Helena and Cooper, and the rest of the village as a distant third. These are the people he will prioritize.

Nowhere is his Slytherin primary clearer than in The Domovoi (2X4). His worst fear is losing the people he loves. It is a very Slytherin kind of fear and one that is bad enough to break him at the sight of Vlad and Keelin (supposedly) dead.

His primary also makes Wilko the person who cares the least about the Night Watch as a concept. He cares about Vlad and Keelin. If the Night Watch is somehow detrimental to them, all ideals about protecting the earth go straight out of the window; when Vlad is forced to leave the Night Watch, Wilko quits on the spot (The Gate of Souls). No doubt, no hesitation.

At his best, he is caring, willing to go the extra mile for the people he loves and ready to charge in so they don’t have to. At his worst, he is paranoid about any strangers and prone to taking decisions without informing or involving others.

‘Impulsive’ is a word that often gets bandied around with regards to Wilko. It’s how he expresses his (very loud) Secondary. Yet we are faced with an interesting paradox: Wilko may be impulsive, but his control over his werewolf side is exceptional. Whereas newly-turned werewolf Fran practically gets turned inside-out trying to resist the transformation once the moon rises, Wilko barely seems to notice it (2X10 The She-Wolf). Entire episodes take place during a full moon without Wilko ever mentioning it (4X4 The Protector). Only a super moon seems to have any effect on him (1X5 The Werewolf).

Wilko was born a werewolf, yet even among werewolves his control is remarkable (and remarked-upon by Vega in The She-Wolf). This lends an extra dimension to his impulsiveness: Wilko acts impulsive if and only if the situation presents a danger to the people he cares about. Giving in to his werewolf side would make him a danger to the people around him.

Tl;dr: Wilko is a loud and unapologetic Slytherin/Gryffindor: he prioritizes the people he cares about above all else and charges straight at danger in order to keep said danger from reaching them.

VLAD

Primary: Hufflepuff

Secondary: Slytherin

Hufflepuff Primaries value people–all people. They value community, they bond to groups (rather than solely individuals), and they make their decisions off of who is in the most need and who is the most vulnerable and who they can help. They value fairness because every person is a person and feel best when they give everyone that fair chance. Even directly wronged, a Hufflepuff will often give someone a second (or fifth) chance.

Slytherin Secondaries improvise. They are the most adaptive secondary, finding their strength in responding quickly to whatever a situation throws at them. They improvise differently than the Gryffindor Secondary, far more likely to try coming at situations from different angles than to try strong-arming them. They might describe themselves as having different “faces” for different people and different situations, dropping them and being just themselves only when they’re relaxing or feel safe.

Like Wilko, Vlad is motivated by people. Unlike Wilko, his loyalties are broader, extending to the community he lives in and to people in general. Vlad likes people. He’s willing to help those in need even if he doesn’t know them and/or they appear to be a threat initially (3x1 Het Monster). Befitting his Hufflepuff primary, he gives second chances and believes the best of people. This is equally likely to work out well for him as it is to backfire (4x10 Reika).

Less present in the actual show but very clear in the movie is his traditionalist and socially-conforming side. He has followed in his father’s footsteps as a member of the Night Watch, something that was long a goal for him (4X10 Reika). He is duty-bound and puts aside his own personal needs to keep the peace. Vlad, knowing he has to leave the Night Watch, argues within the framework of the rules the Council set up. He states his case, he tries to change their mind — but when it comes down to it, he professes that he has no choice. He has to obey. If the High Council says he needs to quit, he will quit (The Gate of Souls).

His tendency to see the best in people makes him somewhat vulnerable to manipulation, especially from people close to him (4X10 Reika). This is, however, tempered by his Slytherin secondary.

Supplementary materials tend to describe Vlad as the strategist who has a plan ready to go before they go out to face the monsters. While there is truth in this, it’s not the whole truth: Vlad comes up with plans on the fly and changes them rapidly when the situation demands it. He likes to go out with a plan in mind, true, but he feels no need to stick to that plan. He is a quick thinker even when caught unawares (coming up with a plan right after shaking off brainwashing — 2X6 The Master Vampire). He is versatile and ready to make use of unconventional resources, such as bringing Sacha in the loop when Keelin and Wilko are taken out of commission (1X5 The Siren). On top of that, he has a bit of a manipulative streak if it serves his plans well (2X4 The Domovoi, both in his cheating at the start of the episode and his plan to use Wilko to draw in the monster. Jury’s out on how effective either of those instances were, but he did it anyway.)

Tl;dr: Vlad is a Hufflepuff/Slytherin: he attaches value to people and community, and is willing to give even those he doesn’t know the chances he feels they deserve. He is a versatile planner who can easily improvise and switch plans on the fly, using all resources available to him.

KEELIN

Primary: Ravenclaw

Secondary: Ravenclaw

Ravenclaw Primaries have a constructed system that they test their decisions against before they feel comfortable calling something right. This system might be constructed by them, or it might have been taught to them as children, or it might have been discovered by them some point later in life. But it gives them a way to frame the world and a confidence in their ability to interact with it morally.

Ravenclaw Secondaries plan. They collect information, they strategize. They have tools. They run hypotheticals and try to plan ahead for things that might come up. They build things (of varying degrees of practicality and actual usefulness) that they can use later– whether that’s an emergency supply pack, a vast knowledge of Renaissance artistic techniques and supplies, or a series of lists and contingency plans. They feel less at home in improvisation and more comfortable planning ahead and taking the time to be prepared.

Keelin took by far the most time to pin down. I have my suspicions as to why that is, but that would result in an entirely different essay (with a much higher salt content).

Here’s the thing about Keelin: depending on the episode, she switches viewpoints. Whereas Wilko and Vlad are usually very consistent in what drives them, Keelin will switch from a Hufflepuff’s care for people to a Gryffindor’s concern with what is Right seemingly without rhyme or reason. (It’s mainly those two. She doesn’t emulate Slytherin all that often.)

She is no Slytherin, that’s for sure. I debated Hufflepuff but she does not have the same instinctive concern for people that someone like Vlad (or Sacha, another Puff primary) has. She doesn’t share the steadfast conviction of a Gryffindor. In the end, it is the constructed, thought-out morality of a Ravenclaw primary that shines through.

Supplementary materials tend to describe Keelin as the emotional heart of the team. I… disagree. Strenuously. This may have been how her character was initially conceived, but Keelin doesn’t gravitate towards people, she gravitates towards knowledge, planning, preset rules and the things she’s already learned in the past. There are two examples of this I find most emblematic.

The first is The Time Thief (2X12): when finally breaking free of the time loop that takes up most of the first half of the episode, Keelin’s first instinct… is to plan. It’s to find out what’s going on and who’s behind their problems. Vega has to remind her to find Vlad and Wilko and inform them that something’s wrong.

The second occurs in Cerberus, The Gatekeeper (4X5): when Keelin and Wilko get dragged off to be burned at the stake, Wilko begs Keelin to use her magic. Keelin replies as follows (emphasis mine):

“I can’t! I swore to defend people and never hurt them!” (NL: “Ik kan het niet. Ik heb gezworen mensen te beschermen en hen nooit pijn te doen.”)

It’s not because she doesn’t want to hurt her friends (Slytherin). Not because she doesn’t want to hurt anyone (Hufflepuff). Or because hurting people is wrong (Gryffindor). No, she can’t because she swore an oath, a binding contract. She has built her morality through consideration, by weighing what is good and what isn’t and then sticking to that unless more compelling arguments are presented to her. (What does she accuse Vega of when Vlad needs to quit in the movie? Short-sightedness.)

It explains why Keelin seems to switch motivations. I believe she is still very much in the process of constructing her Truth. A number of things she has taken from her upbringing (Black magic is bad, white magic is good — even if the latter is used to hurt people). In daily life she borrows from Vlad’s Hufflepuff most often, but it never comes as naturally to her as it does to him.

Left to her own devices, Keelin falls back on knowledge and things she has previously incorporated as truth, not on people.

Many of those traits bleed into her Ravenclaw secondary. Keelin’s default method of facing a problem is researching it. She collects information. She reads up on potions and spells. She falls back on all the things she’s learned in the past. She wants to have a plan all ready to go before she steps outside and when that plan falls apart, she has a hard time recalibrating (this is what sets apart her Ravenclaw secondary from Vlad’s Slytherin secondary).

Tl;dr: Keelin is a full Ravenclaw: her morality system is constructed and still a work in progress. She tends to draw on Hufflepuff traits when among other people, but left to her own devices she falls back on knowledge.

#nachtwacht #nachtwacht meta #sorting hat chats

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charanteleclerc · 6 years ago

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you’re in my mind (under my skin)

A/N: This is for sloangreytrash who requested simi! Sorry it’s taken a while, hope everyone enjoys!

The first time Seb saw him, he was wasted. Seriously wasted. He’d been drinking steadily since about midday, flipping between heartbroken, raging and pretending getting dumped was the best thing in the world with every other drink. He’d anticipated the break-up - he’d have been blind not to see it coming - but it didn’t really make it hurt any less.

He’d convinced his friends that going out was a good idea, or maybe he hadn’t, and they’d planned on going out anyway. It was a Friday after all. Dan had abandoned them almost as soon as they’d gotten to the club, and Seb didn’t blame him. He’d seen him hanging off a tall, ridiculously good-looking man. If he’d been quicker, he’d definitely have tried his luck, but the guy seemed pretty preoccupied by Dan now. Jenson and Charles were still with him though, Jenson from actual sympathy, Charles was probably still here because his latest crush hadn’t been spotted yet. Not that he’d admit it, he was kinda glad, in a selfish way. He loved Charles like a little brother (it didn’t matter that Charles was less than a year younger than him, it was still younger), and he didn’t blame Dan and Charles for not wanting to stick with him the entire evening. But, company was company. And company also loves misery, misery such as Jenson also trying to bleach his brain with alcohol.

Break-up’s were hard.

“You know what?” Seb banged his glass down on the table, making Jenson jump. “Fuck ‘em. You deserve better. I deserve better.”

“We deserve better.” Jenson nodded, his eyes a little unfocused. “Why?”

“Because we just do.” Seb explained. “Charles, Charles, go find your boy. Because me and Jenson, we’re gonna pull tonight.”

“We are?” Jenson blinked. Charles looked like he was watching a funny car crash in motion. Part distressed but part hilarious.

“You are?”

Seb nodded. “Yes. Yes we are. We are going to get over our shitty ex-boyfriends, we’re going to get them out of our systems, and we are going to do that by getting drunk, then getting under somebody else.”

“You’re a genius.” Jenson said solemnly. “I’m gonna go. Find someone. To get under.”

“Jenson, Jense…” Seb grabbed onto Jenson’s arm, grinning like a maniac. “I don’t wanna see you until your walk of shame tomorrow.”

“Got it.” Jenson finger-gunned, walking away a little unsteadily. Seb sent a satisfied grin at Charles, who still looked distressed but was definitely struggling not to laugh.

“It’s a brilliant plan!” Seb protested.

“Sure, sure.” Charles snickered, the amused part of him finally winning out. “Whatever, I’m going to find someone interesting.”

“Is it Pierre?”

Seb couldn’t see Charles blush in the low light, but he was pretty sure it was there. “Just somebody.” Charles said, before leaning over to give Seb a quick hug. “Love you. Come find me if you need to.”

“Love you too. Go find your booty call.” Seb teased, ignoring the glare he got in return. He didn’t care, Charles would eventually come to his senses and realise that he’d been head over heels for Pierre since he’d set eyes on him, but it wasn’t his problem. Or more accurately, it wasn’t his problem right now.

He stood up, scanning the room. He needed to dance, and he wanted another drink. He just wanted to forget that Mark even existed, and the easiest way to do that was vodka. Or tequila. Alcohol in general.

“One vodka shot.” He motioned at the bartender. The guy standing next to him made a noise. “What?”

“Do you think you’re up to that?” The guy smirked. Seb glared. Was this guy assuming he couldn’t handle his alcohol? By a look? He didn’t know his life. He could make his own goddamn life choices.

“Totally am.” Seb replied, jaw set. “Are you?”

“Always.” The guy replied. Seb’s drink appeared before him, and he didn’t even stop to think before he was throwing it down his throat, determined to prove a point.

“What do you say to that?” Seb challenged. The guy shrugged.

“Maybe I should buy you another?” He offered. Seb narrowed his eyes, before nodding.

“Double.”

“Brave.” The guy smirked. “But sure. Two vodka doubles.”

Well, at least he was getting the drunk part of his checklist done.

~*~

Seb stepped off of the bus, slowly making his way towards his house. The sun was just about rising, and he looked wrecked. He knew that, he felt it as well. But a one-night stand was exactly what he’d aimed for, and why not? Hard, fast, drunken sex. And he’d only thought about Mark once, and he was pretty proud of that. Small steps.

He unlocked the front door, trying to shut it as quietly as possible. He loved Dan, Charles and Jenson like family (and they really were, to be honest), but he also knew that they’d tease him about this for days.

He snuck into the kitchen, cursing when Dan was already there, making a couple of coffees. Dan grinned, snickering. “Want a coffee?”

“Sure.” Seb muttered, sinking onto a chair. So goes his cunning plan. “What are you doing up at 6am?”

“The question you should be asking is ‘why haven’t you gone to bed yet Dan’?” Dan look very satisfied with himself. Seb rolled his eyes.

“Why haven’t you gone to bed yet Dan?” He parroted back, obediently.

“Because of the incredibly gorgeous guy still in my bed.” Dan replied smugly. “The sex is -”

“I don’t want to know.” Seb groaned, putting his hands over his ears.

“I’m assuming you had a good night?” Dan asked. “As you’re only getting back now?”

“Best way to get over someone is to get under someone.” Seb chanted, making grabby hands at the coffee. “Please Dan. I need.”

Dan took pity on him, handing him a mug. “Is it going to be a ‘might see them again’ situation? Or a ‘person at the right time’ situation?”

“The second.” Seb mumbled, before taking a gulp of coffee. “Go get back to bed. Incredibly gorgeous guy might start to think you’ve found a better option.”

Dan made a noise, a dazed grin on his face. “Seb, this guy knows there’s no-one better.” He grabbed the two coffees, giving Seb a goofy grin. “Don’t interrupt.”

“Don’t give me a reason to!” Seb called after his housemate, focusing on the coffee. Dan was an idiot, but he was also a genius in the kitchen, and he was the only one in the house who could actually make a decent coffee with their demon of a kettle.

He heard the front door open and close softly, and Jenson appeared, his face falling when he saw Seb sitting at the table. “It was your idea.” Jenson warned, attempting to stop the inevitable teasing.

Seb grinned. “Well, you’re unlucky enough that you’re going to have to make your own coffee. You missed Dan.”

Jenson groaned. “I hate you and your insanely good coffee.”

“No you don’t.”

“Can I go and wake him up?”

“Um… not unless you want to be scarred for life by the sight of his butt.” Seb admitted. “He’s still got a guest.”

Jenson made a face. “What time did you get here?”

“About five minutes ago.” Seb yawned. “I’m going to try and grab a nap.”

“Worn yourself out?” Jenson grinned. “If you’re doing that, can I have your coffee?”

“No. Fuck off.” Seb cradled his mug to his chest. “This is mine.”

“I hate you.” Jenson called as Seb stood up, walking off towards his bedroom.

“No you don’t!”

~*~

Seb saw him next at the library, when he was a few hours into an essay and only fuelled by Red Bull and a cheese toastie. The guy dropped into the seat opposite him, the same smirk on his face from the night at the club. It took Seb a few minutes to even notice he was sat there, too focused on the fact he was writing something that was pure bullshit. Hopefully good bullshit. Seb blinked when he looked up, seeing the guy there. What was his name again? Chris? Kevin?

“You look like you could do with a break?” The guy said. Seb just blinked again. Was he beginning to hallucinate? Because he could see his one-night stand telling him he looked stressed. “Do you want to grab a coffee?”

“No.” Seb said quickly. “Er, no, if I have anymore caffeine I might have a heart attack.” He explained, still feeling confused. And a little guilty. The guy’s smirk got even… smirkier? How was that even possible?

“Okay. Would you like to grab a cup of water then?”

Seb nodded dumbly, then shook himself. “I do really need finish this.” He said apologetically. The guy shrugged.

“I can wait.” He said, settling back into his chair. “Wake me when you finish.”

Seb blinked as the guy tipped his hat over his face, and almost immediately fell asleep. Seb turned in his seat, looking around, half expecting a camera crew to jump out from behind a bookcase. It had to be a prank. One-night stands don’t just appear out of nowhere and fall asleep in front of you!

When no camera crew appeared, and the guy - Ken? - still seemed to be fast asleep, Seb went back to his essay, feeling slightly unsettled. He’d thought that they’d both understood what was expected, which really only came down to two things - have mind blowing sex (and it had been mind blowing), followed quickly by never talking to each other again. He was holding up his end so well that he’d even forgotten the guy’s name! He hadn’t even known the guy was a student until now. Unless he was a faculty member. Shit, was he a faculty member? He could really do without the complications that would bring.

He kept dragging the attention back to his essay, only letting himself sneak a glance a couple of times. He could ignore him. It was possible. But he didn’t really remember writing the last bit of his essay. Too preoccupied. Although he wasn’t really sure what he was saying in the rest of the essay either. He packed up his laptop, hesitating a little before leaning over to give the guy a shove.

“Hey, er, hey.” Seb said quietly. The guy started a little, looking at Seb from under his hat.

“You’re finished?”

Seb nodded, looking at his bag. “You’ve been asleep about two hours.” He added. The guy didn’t look fussed.

“That’s okay. Coffee? Or water?” The guy asked again. Seb nodded, still confused about the entire situation, but willing to go along with it for now.

“Lead the way.”

~*~

Okay, so it was less a one-night stand, more a two-night stand. What could he say. The guy was a smooth talker when he wanted to be.

Still hadn’t learnt his name though.

They’d gone for coffee, and they’d lasted about 20 minutes before Seb had fallen for the smooth voice and the calm confidence. And that smirk . That smirk did something to a guy. They’d tried for pretence of actually talking, but Seb couldn’t say what they’d talked about. He remembers him staring, and feeling increasingly turned on, and then he was receiving the best blowjob he’d ever had. He didn’t even care that he was getting sucked off in a coffee shop toilet. With Mark, they’d never do anything so spontaneous. Everything about them had been formulaic, and just the fact that he was doing something risky, slutty even, just made him feel fantastic.

He collapsed onto the sofa, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t tell his housemates. At all. He’d get knowing looks and remarks and he still wasn’t sure what this was. He could hear someone coming down the stairs, and he flung a pillow over his face. Maybe he could just hide here.

“Seb?” Charles sounded like he was above him. Seb pulled the pillow off, staring up. Charles was grinning down at him.

“Hi.” Seb said. He wasn’t going to tell anyone, and Charles wasn’t going to be able to tell from just his face. Hopefully.

“You look like your having a dilemma.” Charles said happily, patting Seb’s head. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a blowjob in a coffee shop toilet.” Seb said, eyes widening and slapping a hand over his mouth. “Shit. No I didn’t.”

“You… what?” Charles looked shocked. Seb just stared up at him, and then Charles burst into laughter. Seb glared.

“It’s not funny.”

“Yes, yes it is.” Charles cackled. “You slut! Who was he?”

“The guy from the club.” Seb replied sadly. “He found me at the library.”

Charles continued to snicker, moving around the sofa and sitting on Seb’s legs. Seb wiggled, making himself comfortable. Charles wasn’t exactly heavy, just a little awkward. “Do you want a hug?” Charles asked, looking serious. Or as serious as he could whilst he kept on letting out little bursts of laughter. Seb nodded, moving his arms so Charles could lie down, wrapping his arms around him once Charles was settled.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Charles asked. Seb shook his head.

“I need to think about it first. But thanks.” Seb replied. “Have you talked to Pierre since the other night?”

Charles shrugged. “A little. Nothing happened, that night. I just crashed there.”

“No judgement.” Seb said quietly. “I mean, I really can’t now.”

“Nope, you can’t.” Charles started to laugh again. “I never thought you’d be such an exhibitionist.”

“Neither did I.” Seb replied honestly. “It just kinda felt right, y’know?”

Charles nodded. “I get it. Just, be safe. Don’t let yourself get broken.”

“I will.” Seb sighed. “I promise.”

~*~

He was a liar. A complete and utter liar, and he couldn’t even start to feel mad. He hadn’t even meant to run into the guy again - Keith? He should really ask him for his name - but the guy had appeared beside him after football practice, leering at him in a slightly sinister but ridiculously sexy way. He really shouldn’t be blamed for anything that happened after. He was high on exercise, and the guy happened to be there, he wasn’t responsible for anything. At all.

Though he was really starting to enjoy sex in semi-public places. Or maybe it was just sex in semi-public places with him. Seb really wasn’t sure.

And now he kind of wanted to find this guy. Maybe even talk to him. He had a right to be curious, he’d had sex with him three times now. Finding out his name would at least be helpful. It wasn’t exactly like he could just wander round campus asking if anyone had seen a really sexy guy with a lazy smile. Well, he could. But he wasn’t going to to.

“Okay, so you don’t know anything about this guy?” Jenson asked, sounding a little alarmed. “Seb, he could be like… I don’t know, a serial killer!”

“I’m still alive.” Seb muttered, blushing a little as his housemates all fixed him with stern looks. “Sorry.”

“You really don’t even know his name?” Dan asked, perplexed. “Nothing?”

“His name starts with K. I wasn’t really preoccupied with his name the first time I talked to him, and then it just became awkward. And we don’t really spend much time talking.”

“Too busy have sex in public places.” Charles teased. “Okay, so we start with nothing. How about someone goes somewhere with you? Then he has to introduce himself.”

Seb could’ve kissed him in that moment. “You’re a true genius Charles. Pierre doesn’t know what he’s missing.”

Charles blushed. “It’s just an idea.”

“A brilliant idea!” Seb exclaimed. “So what, I’ll just wait at my lectures for you guys?”

Dan nodded. “We’ll find this guy. He can’t be that elusive.”

~*~

The problem was, none of them had considered the fact that they were all tied up themselves. Dan was consistently late to meeting Seb, and always with Jev hanging off his arm. Seb tried not to feel jealous, and tried his hardest not to feel like a third wheel, but he didn’t want to get in the way. And Jenson and Charles were both crushing hard, and as far as Seb could see, their affections were being returned, except no-one was saying anything. Nico and Pierre were great guys, and Seb didn’t want to get in the way again. True love was always difficult to achieve when your lovesick housemate was hanging around in a slightly awkward way. So the constant supervision was dropped, and he was back to being slightly lonely, and just waiting for the guy to appear from the shadows.

Except he didn’t.

A week turned into two, then three, and quickly a month had gone by without a sight of the the guy. Not even a whisper. And honestly, he was okay with it. It wasn’t something to mourn, and in reality, had helped him a lot. It’d stopped him moping about Mark, and gave him something to focus on. Maybe he didn’t need it now. His housemates weren’t giving him sympathetic looks anymore, when Seb saw him. He was spending more and more time at the library, needing the excuse to get out of the house. Jenson and Charles had come to their senses, and three couples surrounding him, it became a little stifling.

He was in one of his self-imposed exiles, having found it difficult to concentrate with whatever Dan and Jev would doing above him. He’d fled to the library, and hadn’t even realised he was in his pyjamas until he’d arrived. Thankfully it was nearly midnight, hopefully no-one he knew would see him like this.

So when he woke (he didn’t know when he fell asleep, but a while ago considering the lines of text he’d typed with his head), the guy was sitting opposite him, looking amused.

“Late night?”

Seb gaped, opening and shutting his mouth a few times before nodding. “Yeah, um, all my housemates are having sex.”

The guy raised an eyebrow, grinning. “And you’re not joining in?”

“Not like that!” Seb exclaimed, flustered. The first time he sees this guy in weeks, and he’s camped out in the library like a homeless person, with probably impressive bedhead and in his pyjamas. Someone should really just put him out of his misery. “Not with each other, with their boyfriends. Like normal people.”

“And you’re not because…?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” Seb mumbled. “Or girlfriend. Or friend at the minute.”

The guy just kept on staring, before standing up. “My place is nearby. If you want to be somewhere that isn’t this library.”

“I’m in my pyjamas.” Seb got out. The guy just continued to smirk.

“I can see that.”

Seb nodded, jumping up and packing up his stuff. He hadn’t brought much, and he didn’t pack it with too much thought. He was still having trouble processing that the guy was here, and he’d seen him at his absolute worst.

They didn’t say anything on the walk to the guys house. What did they really have to talk about, really? Seb wasn’t sure why he’d been invited back - well, he had an idea, but still. It didn’t feel like the other times. He vaguely recognised the flat they stopped at, a distant memory from an alcohol hazy night. He hadn’t really had time to actually look at the flat, and it was nice. Cozy.

“Do you have any housemates?” Seb asked lowly. The guy shook his head.

“Don’t get on well with most people.” Came the curt response. Seb nodded, like that made sense. He’d never really had a problem with people, well, most people. He walked around the room, being drawn to the varying trophies that sat on a bookcase.

1st place Karting Regionals - Kimi Raikkonen

“Kimi.” Seb breathed. “I knew it started with K.”

“Do you want a drink?” Kimi asked, and it felt good being able to give him a name. Kimi. Seb shook his head, yawning.

“I’m good, thank you.” He smiled, sitting down awkwardly on the sofa. “You’ve already done enough saving me from the horrors of the library.”

“Well, if you ever need to just get away…” Kimi shrugged. “You’re always welcome.”

“Why?” Seb blurted out. Fuck his stupid ability to never shut up. “Sorry, I didn’t mean -”

“It’s okay.” Kimi smirked. “I don’t know, I like you? You seem interesting.”

Seb nodded, still feeling a little lost. “But, I still don’t understand why? Why me? Why pick me up for a couple of hook-ups and then disappear?”

Kimi shrugged. “I don’t do people.”

“No shit.” Seb grumbled, folding up on himself. He was pissed off, and he still couldn’t go home. He certainly didn’t want to go back to the library. He just wanted to be in bed, pretending that this wasn’t actually happening. “Thanks for letting me stay here, I’ll be out of your hair soon.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Kimi said quietly. “If you don’t want to.”

Seb frowned a little, looking over at Kimi. “I thought you didn’t do people.”

“I don’t. But I want to do you.”

Seb snorted. “That sounds way worse.”

Kimi gave a small huff of laughter. “Well, in both ways.” He looked over Seb appreciatively. “I’m open.”

Seb blinked, and then jumped over the sofa. He grabbed Kimi’s face, kissing him hungrily, desperate. Kimi hummed, pulling Seb against him, walking them towards his bedroom. “So eager.” Kimi murmured, nipping at Seb’s lip. “Did you miss me?”

“Not at all.” Seb grinned, kicking off his pyjama pants and pulling his shirt off. “I think you have too many clothes on.”

Kimi nodded, following Seb’s lead, watching Seb lie down on the bed. “You look obscene.”

“Look in a mirror.” Seb replied, dragging Kimi down. “Now fuck me.”

“My pleasure.” Kimi smirked, leaning over and grabbing a condom from the bedside table. Seb hissed as Kimi slid a finger into him, slowly. Kimi kissed him lazily, working him just enough to slide a second finger in. Seb might not have remembered much from that first night, but he hadn’t forgotten how good Kimi was with his hands. His nerves were already running on electricity, another spark jolting when Kimi curled his fingers just so. “You feel so good.”

“More.” Seb panted, gripping the bedsheets. “More.”

Kimi grinned, sliding in a third finger, and it was almost too much. Seb started to push back a little, but Kimi just held onto his wrist, shaking his head.

“Not yet.” He said, sliding his fingers out. “You’re not to come until I tell you to.” He whispered, lining himself up. Seb nodded, throwing his head back with a whine when Kimi pushed in.

“Fuck, Kimi, fuck, move it… ”

Kimi was holding onto his waist, hard enough to bruise, but Seb didn’t care. He wanted to move, he wanted to roll his hips, but Kimi was holding him in place, caging him in. He held onto the bedsheets, desperate to hold something. Kimi seemed to have figured out the perfect angle, and Seb was shaking, trying to hold on. “I need, I need to…”

“Not yet.” Kimi breathed, releasing one hand from Seb’s waist. “Not yet.”

Kimi wrapped a hand around Seb’s dick, grinning when Seb whimpered. “Does that feel good.”

“So good, please…” Seb trailed off. His legs were trembling where they were wrapped around Kimi’s waist, he was so close…

“Come for me.” Kimi commanded, and it was all Seb needed. His vision went black, and when he came down from his orgasm, Kimi was shaking, hips stuttering. They stayed like that in silence for a few seconds, until Seb started to laugh, a little hysterical.

“You’re easily the best lay I’ve ever had.” Seb giggled, laughing harder when he saw Kimi’s incredulous face. “Fuck, I needed that.”

“The sex?”

“The sex. Or more specifically, the sex with you.” Seb admitted. He winced when Kimi pulled out, smiling when he caught the soft look on Kimi’s face. “I might take advantage of your bed.”

“Less distractions here?”

“Oh, definitely more.” Seb chuckled, getting up to clean himself off. “But worth it.”

~*~

“So not a serial killer?” Charles asked, squinting a little. Seb laughed, happily accepting the coffee that Dan passed him.

“Not a serial killer. Possibly a vampire though.” He joked. “Tends to hang around places at night.”

“That’s not alarming.” Jenson muttered, grinning when he caught Seb’s look. “I’m happy for you. And jealous, you can enjoy an entire apartment.”

“Well, thank you to all of you for having so much sex I actually ran out of here.” Seb said, giving a little groan of pleasure when he took a sip of the coffee. “But fuck, I’m never leaving, and it is because of your coffee.”

Dan grinned, looking pleased. “And my skills strike again!” He cheered, giving a quick bow. “I thank you, I thank you.”

Seb laughed, listening to his housemates chatter amongst themselves. He’d missed this, but they’d all missed this. But he wasn’t going to disappear, to make them worry and abandon them. He loved Kimi’s place (more the bed than anything), but they were going to take it slow. By Kimi’s own admission, he wasn’t a people person, and having someone hanging around all the time felt like too much. And he didn’t want to give up this, sitting down and joking around, chatting about the most stupid things. They were young, and in love, and maybe it would last. Maybe it wouldn’t. There was no need to worry about the future yet, it’d come for them. But maybe they could enjoy the present. And maybe a bit more of Dan’s coffee.

~*~

#sebastian vettel #kimi raikkonen #Jenson Button #charles leclerc #daniel ricciardo #pierre gasly #nico rosberg #jean-eric vergne #uni students au

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moon-minghao · 7 years ago

Text

‘my human boy’

anon requested: verkwan mermaid au

words: 4052

summary: seungkwan lives a standard, solitary life in his hometown by the sea, until one night he meets a strange boy swimming in the dark.

For as long as he can remember, Seungkwan has gone to the ocean everyday of his life. He supposes that’s just how it goes, son of a fisherman, island kid.

(he used to go out on the boat with his father when he was little, but now he can hardly stomach the sight of a gutted cod, not with all the blood and the scales that go along with it)

Nowadays, he just sits on the rickety old dock and watches the waves, or helps out Miss Huan, the woman who runs the bait shack. Sometimes he’ll bring school work, find a bench with a nice view and start solving math equations.

(it’s not the most interesting place to live, but he loves it all the same)

It’s a tuesday in early june when he meets the boy.

(the boy with the nice eyes and the beautiful smile and the soft looking lips- )

The sun had already gone down, leaving the beach cold and dark and empty, the only signs of life being the little lights from boats far out at sea. Seungkwan was searching the sand for small organisms, ones that he could bring in to examine under under a microscope for biology class the next day.

He’s near the edge of the water when he hears a loud splash, looks up in an attempt to locate the sound, but is greeted by the sight of the calm, black waters. It’s not for a while, but surely enough he hears it again.

“Hello?” Seungkwan asks, stepping up onto one of the rocks for a better view. He sees a tail, then, a second a later, too soon after, he sees a boy.

He looks about Seungkwan’s age, hair dark and skin almost glowing in the moonlight. Seungkwan walks closer to get a better view. The boy doesn’t look familiar at all, which is new and exciting, Seungkwan isn’t used to strangers in such a small town.

There’s an awkward moment of silence in which Seungkwan is too busy analyzing the kid in front of him to speak, but he recovers quickly.

“Hello!” Seungkwan says again. He thinks that maybe his mother would shout at him for talking to strange boys who swim in the ocean in the middle of the night, but the boy doesn’t look particularly threatening, especially not when he smiles back, wide and bright.

“Hey.” the boy responds. His voice is higher than Seungkwan was anticipating, slightly accented, but pleasant sounding all the same.

Seungkwan sits down, crossing his legs on the damp rock.

“Aren’t you cold? It’s pretty cold to go swimming, you know. Who goes swimming so late, anyways? I’ve never seen you before… are you staying with family? Who are you?”

The boy’s face contorts as he desperately tries to keep up with Seungkwan’s rapid fire questions, deciding to answer only the easiest.

“I’m Hansol.”

Seungkwan pouts, a little disappointed by the lack of information, but introduces himself all the same.

“I’m Boo Seungkwan.”

Hansol smiles. An instant later he is underwater, moving closer to the rocks. Seungkwan watches him do this, gasping at the sight. Hansol is close enough to the surface that his legs are visible when he swims, or at least, where his legs should be.

But all Seungkwan sees is scales, scales like he’s back on his father’s boat, like maybe the boy in front of him isn’t a boy at all, or even a human.

Seungkwan chuckles, he’s getting ahead of himself again. He rubs at his eyes, surely just imagining things so late at night.

But even after he shakes his head and looks away, the scales of hansol’s ‘legs’ still glow. Seungkwan pinches himself, and it does nothing.

“Holy shit!” Seungkwan shouts, an impossibly loud noise for such a quiet night. “You’re a fucking mermaid! That’s why I’ve never seen you around town! Oh my god, oh my god…”

Hansol starts laughing, amused by Seungkwan’s apparent distress. He hasn’t talked to anyone in a while, and the energetic boy in front of him is interesting and so very very human. In the moment he decides to show off, pushing himself up onto the rocks in a fluent motion that allows him to sit next to Seungkwan, the blue and purple scales of his tail on full display. He tilts his head back, showing off the gills on his neck.

“Mermaids, huh? Is that what you call us nowadays, not sirens?”

Seungkwan is understandably startled by the sight, especially now with Hansol being so close to him, “This can’t be real… oh my god. I must have hit my head on a rock and gone into a coma, oh, my mother will be so worried…”

He starts shaking his head again, humming loudly as if doing some sort of strange vocal exercise, which just makes Hansol laugh harder, reaching forward to pat Seungkwan on the shoulder. Seungkwan sends him a horrified look at the contact, and Hansol retracts his hand.

“Oh, god. You’re real, aren’t you?”

“Are you asking if I’m real or if God is real? Because I am definitely real, but I’m not so certain about the big man up top.” Hansol jokes.

“You know what I meant! Ugh, this is so unfair, my first encounter with the supernatural and he has to be an asshole about it.” Seungkwan sighs, throwing his hands up. He is slowly starting to comprehend what is happening, and his excitement is starting to spike. Here, in the flesh, a real life mermaid.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But humans beings are funny.”

There is moment of silence which seems to remind both boys that they have only known each other for a total of six minutes, and strangers are still strangers, mermaid tails aside.

“So… how old are you?” Hansol says. Start with the basics, he thinks, can’t go wrong with that.

“I’m sixteen.” Seungkwan answers confidently. Then, a second later, he squints, and turns to look at Hansol inquisitively. “Why? How old do you think I am? I bet I’m older than you! How old are you?”

“Hey, I’m sixteen too, alright? I didn’t mean anything by it.” Okay, so maybe Hansol can’t win, not even with the basics.

Seungkwan nods, shrugging. He wants to ask for the specific date that Hansol was born, but he decides to let it rest for now. He keeps staring at Hansol’s scales, but doesn’t feel bad about it because Hansol is staring at his legs, too.

A slight wind starts, and Seungkwan looks up, suddenly very aware of his surroundings.

“Look, Hansol, it’s been lovely meeting you, but I really have to get home. My mom will be really worried since I told her I’d be back before twelve.” Seungkwan stands, stepping from rock to rock until he gets back to the shore. Hansol slips back into the water, keeping pace with the boy until they are both close to sand.

“Wait, before you go, do you live here? I mean, will I, uhm, see you again?” Hansol asks.

Seungkwan smiles and nods. All he can see of Hansol now is his face, which, he notices, is quite handsome.

“Yeah, of course I live here. Up the road, actually. Most of the tourists or whatever visit the other side of the island… I come to the beach all the time, though, so yes. You’ll see me again. Tomorrow night, actually, I promised to help close up shop.” He explains.

“Oh, okay, tomorrow then. Adios, human.”

“See you, mermaid.” he says it with incredulity, as if tomorrow he’d show up and Hansol would be a normal boy, or wouldn’t exist at all.

Seungkwan spends the entirety of the next school day thinking only of going home. He supposes he’s always been connected with the ocean, in some way, but now, it feels like there is actually someone pulling him back, calling him to shore, and he can hardly sit still.

His friends don’t believe him. They never do. ‘I call bullshit’ the kid sitting across from him at the lunch table says, taking a swig of his milk as if it was liquor.

‘Well, that’s fine, I wouldn’t take you to meet him anyway.’ Seungkwan says indignantly. He taps his foot, a bundle of energy, picks apart his food instead of eating it, thinks aloud until the kids around him shoot annoyed looks his way.

But Seungkwan doesn’t care. He waits impatiently until last bell, when he rushes home to do his homework like the diligent student he is. He finishes his language essay before dinner, giving himself just enough time to help his mother with setting the table.

“Are you assisting Ms. Huan today?” His mother asks him, taking a sip of wine.

“Yes. I’ll be home really late, actually, she’s having me clean the whole shack too. So don’t worry about me tonight, okay?”

“Have you finished your schoolwork?”

“Yes, ma.”

“Okay. Just don’t be too loud when you come home, I’ll be catching up on sleep.”

“Alright, ma.” He smiles.

(seungkwan cleans the dishes quickly that night, paying no mind to the fact that he’ll probably have to wake up early the next morning in order to properly wash them)

It’s half past seven by the time he slips out the door, eager to impress Ms. Huan with his spectacular habit of arriving when she wants him to, and also hoping to be quick enough that he doesn’t keep Hansol waiting for too long.

The bait shack is exactly what it sounds like, a small, tattered thing, thoroughly torn up every time a group of fishermen go looking for something.

Miss Huan is an ancient widow, strict but kind in a way that reminds Seungkwan of his grandmother. She’s observant, too, notices how Seungkwan keeps glancing out the window as he organizes and reorganizes the tins of worms that sit on the back of the shelves.

“Ah, you have done enough here if you’ve got somewhere to be.” Miss Huan says with a knowing look.

“No, no, I am meeting with someone at the nearby dock, and I’ve got all the time in the world.” He grins.

She smiles. “Oh, a date so late on a school night?”

Seungkwan laughs, Miss Huan is an old woman after all, eager for gossip that he knows will eventually reach his mother.

“It isn’t a date, ma’am, just my friend and I.”

She looks slightly disappointed, cheated of any news to tell her friends, but nods all the same.

Seungkwan is going through the freezer, throwing out the chunks of rotten fish that even sailors wouldn’t use, when he decides it’s finally dark enough to go look for Hansol. Miss Huan left a little while back, reminding Seungkwan to lock the door behind him and get a good night’s sleep as she exited the store.

He leaves the key on the outside door frame and leisurely walks to the dock, hoping to remain calm. He sits down at the edge, taking his shoes off and dipping his feet in, surveying the waters.

They are as abandoned as the day before, empty and calm, disrupted only by the occasional gusts of wind. Seungkwan wonders what it would be like to live in them, so dark and deep.

“Boo!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Hansol, just because you can breathe under water doesn’t mean you’re allowed to sneak up on me.” He whines. Hansol had swum beneath the dock while Seungkwan wasn’t paying attention, poking his head out with a grin.

“Eh, you came back.” Hansol says. “I thought maybe you wouldn’t.”

“Well, I mean, I live here so it’s not like I had much of a choice. Really, you would be the one that would have to leave in order for us to avoid each other.” Seungkwan jokes. Then, as an afterthought: “Where do you live?”

“Uhm. Nowhere really. I guess I migrate? I don’t even know how I found this island.” He muses.

“So you don’t have like, a home? No Atlantis?”

Hansol laughs, “no, no Atlantis.”

He moves his body out from under the dock, swimming deeper into the blue. Seungkwan watches as he does this, still in slight disbelief.

“Yesterday, you said people used to call you a siren. Sirens lure people into the deep with their voices. Can you sing?”

“No, but I can rap.” He shrugs, making Seungkwan chuckle.

“Really? I can’t say I’ve ever heard of a mermaid who raps.”

“Well then, I guess I’m the first.”

Seungkwan smiles, splashing up water with his feet. He’s curious, now, as curious as he always is. He waits a few moments for Hansol to resurface from his dive that lasts seconds longer than Seungkwan could ever manage.

“Do you have a family, Hansol?”

Hansol raises his eyebrows. “Getting personal today, are we?” he says, sounding slightly taken aback but not offended. “It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize for asking. I do actually. And yeah, they’re merfolk too… or whatever the hell you called me earlier.” he grins, and god, how seungkwan could fall in love with a smile like that, so warm and kind, even when he notices that Hansol’s teeth are sharp, sharper than that of a human being.

“What about you?”

“Ah, it’s just my mother and I. We’re a great family, though. The best.”

Hansol nods. He thinks that Seungkwan seems sweet. Slightly insane in a way, maybe, but sweet all the same. They talk for a while, conversation light and easy. Seungkwan tries to start complaining about his biology project, which then leads to him trying to give the most detailed explanation of public school he could possibly think of, and Hansol tells him that he got his education through tales and traditions passed on throughout his family.

“I am pretty certain I shouldn’t even be talking to you… what with the whole threat of humankind finding out about our existence and hunting us until we go extinct or whatever… but you won’t tell anyone, right?” Hansol finishes his speech, folding his arms on the dock and laying his head down against it.

Seungkwan wonders if he should mention that he has already tried to tell his classmates, but settles on “no one would believe me even if I did say something. Like, what, the strange kid starts talking about mermaids and the mayor sends out an aquatic search party? Not likely.”

He yawns, and Hansol notice how his head dips slightly when he finishes speaking. He wants to ask Seungkwan what makes him a self-proclaimed strange kid, but instead just reaches out to shake him.

“You should go back home. I am tired.” Hansol says, because it’s easier than saying ‘you look exhausted and I want you to get back safely.’

The month of June passes by in the slow, sweat soaked way it always does, but it feels different this time, because now, Seungkwan’s got a secret. He’s got a friend.

They see each other almost every day, always late at night, always by themselves. Seungkwan has taken to bringing small artifacts of land life to show off to Hansol. Once, Hansol starts bragging about his ability to breathe underwater and the next time they meet up, Seungkwan brings broken scuba gear.

(“See? You’re not cool just because you have gills, solie, humans invented a way of staying under underwater ages ago.” “Yeah, you’re right, I’m cool for tons of other reasons.”)

Seungkwan had told his mother that he made a friend at school. She didn’t ask any more questions, only told him to be careful when he said he was staying out.

And it works out just fine, he thinks. He keeps up with his schoolwork and his job and sometimes Hansol doesn’t even show up, so Seungkwan is allowed to just sit and daydream.

It’s a week before final exams, and Seungkwan is stressed and anxious in ways that Hansol can’t possibly understand, so they sit on the rock together as Seungkwan studies his english and Hansol whittles away at a piece of wood he found.

“We won’t see each other until next friday, y’know, I’m too busy with school to spend time down here.”

Hansol nods. Maybe he’ll travel somewhere, return to wherever he came from (which he cannot remember for the life of him), or maybe he’ll just go out past the fishing boats, swim careful laps around the island.

“But after that I’ve got a break, so I won’t have to go to school everyday.”

“Really?” Hansol asks, then, his voice goes soft for a moment. “Will you come visit me, even in the daytime?”

He looks hopeful in a way that makes Seungkwan’s heart race. “Yeah. Yeah, I will. But we can’t meet here, there’ll be too many people.” He explains.

Hansol’s face falls for a moment, but it only takes him a second to think of a new plan.

“Then I’ll find some place! It’ll be our… merfolk-human hideout, with no one to bother us.”

Seungkwan tells him that it sounds fantastic before turning back to his flashcards. The boys are uncharacteristically silent, Seungkwan too involved with school work to crack any jokes, and Hansol just follows the suit of seriousness.

He only makes it to the wednesday of exams week before Seungkwan gives up on the promise he’d made to focus solely on his studies. He sneaks out to have a five minute conversation with Hansol about the stars before getting a phone call from his mother telling him to come home immediately.

(he smiles like an idiot his entire walk home, too busy thinking about handsome mermaids with nice voices to care about how insane he must look to passerby)

Hansol had told him, before he left, “meet me first thing saturday morning.”, and Seungkwan hadn’t asked any questions; but by the time friday rolls around he is wishing that he had, because he is exhausted from school and isn’t too keen about waking up at dawn on the first day of summer.

He sets his alarm anyways.

Seungkwan gets to the dock just after all the fishermen have set sail, and there are a few children running around on the shore, kicking water at each other amidst some imaginary game that only they understand. He searches for a while before spotting Hansol, who appears to be doing his best impression of how a human swims, but is dancing on the line of looking like he’s drowning. Seungkwan laughs.

“Hansol!” Seungkwan calls out. The children don’t even look up, but Hansol does, smiling like always.

“Ah, Seungkwan! Come this way.” He shouts back, gesturing down the shoreline. Seungkwan follows his instructions, doing his best to not break into a jog. Hansol stops swimming eventually so he stops running, taking a few shallow steps into the water.

“You should come in.” Hansol says.

“What?”

“I mean, you should come into the water with me.”

It’s a simple enough request, but it’s new. Seungkwan doesn’t swim often, has had an irrational fear of drowning ever since he was ten years old.

He looks down at his school polo shirt and khaki shorts. “I can’t. I’m not dressed for it.”

“Humans are so weird… I mean, you can swim, can’t you?” Hansol’s tone is almost teasing. “Or are you insecure about taking your shirt off? Because you’re super attractive, so I really don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

His last comment turns Seungkwan into even more of a stuttering mess, blushing beet red. “Y-yeah, I mean, of course I know how to swim, gosh, solie,”

“So what are you waiting for?”

Seungkwan sighs as a way of admitting defeat, shrugging his shirt off and getting into the water. Hansol smiles again, and Seungkwan is torn between wanting him to never stop and also wanting him to quit it, because it’s so hard to keep up any sense of dignity or self respect when you’ve got a pretty mermaid boy looking at you like you know the secrets to the universe.

“Follow me. I found the best hideout out, Seungkwan. It’s super cool.” Hansol dives underwater halfway through his sentence, and Seungkwan does the same out of instinct. Even fully submerged, Hansol can speak perfectly clearly, which, Seungkwan supposes, is to be expected.

They swim for a while, Seungkwan falling behind occasionally as they travel along the shore. Seungkwan is nervous, worried he’ll forget how to get home as if he hasn’t been navigating this island his entire life, but the anxiety disappears when Hansol finally slows down, coming up from the water.

“Here! You see it! This is a dock just like the one back in town, but it’s totally abandoned.” He runs a hand through his dark hair, water keeping it slicked back. “And there’s a river, too, so we can go inland sometimes… if you want.”

Seungkwan nods, surveying the area. It’s not the nicest, the dock looks unsafe and there’s broken bottles on the small piece of shore that isn’t covered in brush, but he wades over to Hansol and grabs his hand all the same, interlocking their fingers and telling him that the hideout was perfect, phenomenal.

July passes by in the quick, seawater soaked haze it always does, except it feels different, because now, Seungkwan has a crush.

They spend their days exploring and napping and having staring contests underwater and Seungkwan doesn’t even try and hide it, stays close and touchy and grins at Hansol even when his jokes aren’t funny.

(and maybe seungkwan should be a little more careful, but hansol isn’t human after all, doesn’t understand societal expectations that have been driven so thoroughly through seungkwan’s skull)

Hansol notices, of course, he would be an absolute idiot if he didn’t, but both of them want to revel in the cotton-candy sweetness of their friendship for a little while longer.

“Have you ever seen a shark?” Seungkwan asks once, while he sunbathes next to Hansol. The water around them is two inches deep, disappearing and reappearing with the undertow.

“Yeah. There are tons of them out there, you wouldn’t believe it.”

“Are they scary?”

“Maybe for you they’d be, but I could probably outswim one if it came down to it.”

He’s cocky but it makes Seungkwan smile.

“My father caught a shark once. He let it go, though, because no one ever buys shark meat.” says seungkwan, rolling over onto his stomach. the rocks leave indents on his back that Hansol reaches over to trace with his finger. seungkwan folds his arms and uses them as a pillow.

“Your father was a fisherman?” Hansol asks.

“Everyone’s father is a fisherman. A fisherman or a soldier.”

“My father doesn’t work.” Hansol shrugs.

“That’s because you’re a fucking mermaid, Solie.”

“That’s right. And you’re my human boy.” He says, overly sweet, teasing, smirking like he’s proud of himself.

Their first kiss is gentle, expected, soft and sweet, just like summer rain. And it is raining, storming for the entire first week of August. They are swimming under the dock, Seungkwan using goggles that make his eyes look funny, when he catches sight of Hansol just staring at him, the slit-like gills in the side of his neck working as he watches Seungkwan search for shells. So Seungkwan smiles, kicking forward until he is right in front of Hansol, leaning in and pressing their lips together.

It’s the first time either of them have ever kissed anyone and they’re underwater, so it’s definitely not the most comfortable experience Seungkwan has ever had, but it’s full of good intentions, just like them.

Hansol nearly forgets that humans have to breath air, wanting to cling to Seungkwan for as long as he can, but he pulls away so they can stick their heads up, Seungkwan gasping.

They both decide to push themselves onto the dock, and it’s there that they stay for the rest of the afternoon, talking like they always do, kissing whenever they want to.

(which is all the time)

For as long as he can remember, Seungkwan has gone to the ocean everyday of his life. He supposes that’s just how it goes, son of a fisherman, island kid, in love with a boy from the sea.

#verkwan #hmm im not really proud of this one : /#but i hope you like it anyways !! and i swear i'll get better.#choi hansol #boo seungkwan #seventeen vernon #seventeen seungkwan #seventeen fanfic #boonon #mermaid au #mywriting

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echoboots · 8 years ago

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Advocating to Callous Listeners: Five (Not-So-Easy) Steps

This is a very strange Martin Luther King Day. In my lifetime, we've always had a long way to go on race relations--I think most people agree we were not enjoying a post-racial society before the November election--but this is the first time that a President-Elect picked a fight with a civil rights legend the weekend before his inauguration. And, more importantly, this behavior does not exist in a vacuum--our President-Elect ran on a blatantly racist, homophobic, ableist, and Islamophobic platform, and though he did not win with a majority, he did win. And his victory (such as it was) emboldened racist people throughout the country to say what they really think--or, as was the case in many school bathrooms and Congressional floors throughout the country, do what they really think. And most of us who are decent human beings are horrified by this, and want it to change.

However, when many of us with these reactions tried to talk to our family/colleagues/friends/garbagemen who supported Trumpian politics, we had a second horrifying realization: This person we were speaking to did not care about fellow human beings. "The Black Lives Matter movement started because people are dying," we told them, and to our abject horror, they just didn't care. Appealing to a sense of humanity did not work, because the listener did not view the subject population as people.

And this is the point where many of us well-meaning advocates, and especially allies, start to draw a blank about what to even do next. Recognizing the humanity of fellow human beings is so basic to us that we don't know what to do when someone rejects it--the carburetor in our brain stops turning over, and we stand there sputtering, "But they should!" And we're right--they should--but they still don't.

I know something of this challenge, because I spent four and a half years writing about mitigating factors of very marginalized and vulnerable people for a living. Talking to people about their experience above has made me realize it might be helpful to talk about my trial and error process. To that end, I’ve drafted a quick primer on an unofficial five-step process I’ve identified over years as a professional advocate. Though this is by no means exhaustive and makes certain assumptions about the relationship between the speaker and the listener, I’m hoping it’s a helpful start for the average ally and advocate.

1. Let Go of 'Should,' And Recognize 'Is'

This is the first step, but it's also by far the hardest--if you can manage it, the rest becomes much easier. Probably most people reading this know that anyone with the empathy God gave a grapefruit thinks that other human beings dying is bad. The natural corollary there is that this person we are speaking to does not, in fact, have the empathy God gave a grapefruit. There's a real impulse to reject not just that person, but the whole rest of the process--"Well this person is terrible, so until they aren't, I'm done." And I hate to break this to you, Dear Reader, but if you have set out to advocate you are not, in fact, done--or at least, not just because this person should have empathy and doesn't. Nobody is going to make those people play by the rules of basic humanity. People who lack the empathy God gave a grapefruit still sometimes need to be dealt with, and walking away in those situations is a luxury we're losing the ability to exercise. You gotta even. I'm sorry.

This doesn't mean that you have to think this person is wonderful, of course--as soon as you are done interacting with that person in that context, it is appropriate (and even healthy) to blow off steam about how awful it was to engage with them. It's part of the human condition. But you definitely can't have a win condition without even playing the game, and that means recognizing the reality in front of you.

2. Identify Goals (Ahead of Time, if Possible)

You'll note that I said above, "People...sometimes still need to be dealt with." The obvious corollary is that sometimes, they don't. The best way to avoid banging your head against a human brick wall for an hour is to have a good idea of whether you need to deal with this person--and the easiest way to do that is to identify your goals. And even when you do need to talk to a person, having a firm understanding of what you're trying to achieve helps you get in, say what you have to say, and get out--so it's very helpful to know going in. What are you trying to achieve by talking to this person? Do they control access to a resource you need? Are they engaging in a damaging behavior you want to stop? Are they voting all of our human rights away in the first week of their first session before your eyes? (Spoiler: If your answer is "I want to let them know that their ideas are bad and and they should feel bad," I recommend walking away.)

To help you see what I'm talking about, let's go through an example scenario--for the purposes of this essay, let's pretend we are members of Congress, which is both a helpful universal and a pleasant daydream. Mitch McConnell, racist walking dumpster fire held together by rubber bands and hypocrisy, is holding another Senate vote about the Affordable Care Act. The Senate committees have come up with alternate legislation, and it's just the phrase "Hahahahaha poor people amirite?" for forty straight pages. People may die if we can't convince some of the Republican Senators who voiced early opposition to the lack of "replace" in the phrase "repeal and replace" to vote differently this time around.

3. Look for Carrots and/or Sticks

Okay, so: You've accepted that the obvious appeal to humanity won't work, because the listener is a jerkfaced jerk. But they're a jerkfaced jerk who has a thing you need. Now what?

Here's where the first thing I mentioned becomes really important--because figuring out what is going to be effective requires an understanding of what motivates that person. Please note that I am not adding my voice to the chorus of white people saying that everything will be fine if we just give white supremacists more empathy, which I believe is a dangerous and inherently racist model of thought. But in order to advocate, you need to know what a carrot and/or a stick would look like for this person, because everybody has their own carrot and stick--and you can bet that a racist callow person's stick and carrot probably don't look like yours. (Pull your mind out of the gutter and stay with me here.)

To continue the example above, let's talk about what would constitute a relevant carrot and stick for your average Republican Senator. Let's assume the carrot probably looks like money, or political capital. The stick probably looks like being voted out of office.

So as we're navigating negotiation with these Senators, we need to either figure out why the ACA will save/earn them money or figure out why they should fear what their constituents will do if they accept this legislation.

4. Offer a Carrot or Raise A Stick, and Preferably One that You Believe

This is another hard but crucial step, because it requires you to take on this person's paradigm long enough to persuade them. It honestly does help to believe what you are saying, for several reasons. First of all, a credible argument tends to carry more weight; a thing even you don't believe is generally not that persuasive to other people. But more importantly, an argument you can accept as true helps you remember is that speaking this person's language doesn't mean you hold their values, or that you agree with them--it just means you need something from them and you have to figure out how to coalition-build in order to make that happen. It's helping them figure out why they want to do this thing you want them to do anyway.

Let's go back to our Poor People Amirite Replacement Plan vote. Though I'm generally a carrot person by personality and trade, in this instance I think the stick is easier to argue. Preserving the ACA probably will not save these Senators money, but constituents relying on the ACA will not be happy to see their health insurance evaporate--even if they currently don't know it. Elaborating on that is where the advocacy starts, and ideally is the vehicle by which change happens. Awesome and canny Senators that we are, we talk with the folks who are already wavering about why their instincts are good and this move is risky. We note their specific reelection dates. We note how long it would take the ACA to be effectively repealed. We observe how close the end date will be to their campaign season. We heroically refrain from yelling at them. We generally try to persuade them that their scary inhuman boss won't even be their boss in two years if they do this now. In an ideal world, we are successful.

5. Take Care of Yourself After the Rinse/Repeat Cycle Ends

Most people's minds aren't changed in a single five-minute session; it takes a lot of work and internal screaming and fantasizing about shaking them by the shoulders. This process is hard on a person, and appropriate self-care should be treated as a necessary step. Do what you need to do in order to stay healthy, and that tends to be different things for different people. I encourage you to think of self-care as the final step of the advocacy process, because it's that crucial.

To wrap up, let's talk about final steps in the Congress scenario. After several grueling hours of arguing convinces my Republican colleagues to vote against the bill, I am tired and hungry. So I reward myself. By eating their share of the vote-o-rama pizza.

#advocacy #self care #people are sometimes horrible #politics #empathy #advocating to callous listeners

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