#both are booked and busy with their own dramas and have been for years | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stllmnstr · 6 months ago

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champagne problems: part one

pairing: jake sim x f reader

genre: enemies to lovers, rich kids au, fake dating au, college au, angst, fluff

part one word count: 15.6k

part one warnings: swearing, alcohol consumption, family drama, a fatal case of second son syndrome

soundtrack: boom - dpr live / bad idea! - girl in red / blood on the floor - kuiper / calico - dpr ian / comme de garçons (like the boys) - rina sawayama / lust - chase atlantic

note: another reupload!! hope this hopeless romantic college boyfriend jake hits just as good the second time around. happy reading ♡

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The second son of a wealthy family, Jake Sim has gotten used to always standing in the shadow of his older brother. From grades to girls to talks of becoming future CEO of the Sim Corporation, he’s no stranger to coming in second place. So when an opportunity arises for Jake to finally have the one thing his brother can’t and best him once and for all, he knows he’d be a fool not to take it.

There are only two problems. The first is that the thing his brother wants so badly isn’t a thing at all. It’s you, semi-estranged daughter of the Sims’ closest and most long-standing business partner.

The second is that Jake Sim can’t fucking stand you.

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Fingers wrapping around the stem of your wine glass, you sigh. Punctuality may have been a steep order for someone who you suspect is running dangerously low on both common sense and regard for others, but twenty minutes? Really?

Your eyes land on the obnoxiously ornate grandfather clock next to the hostess stand. In a restaurant with ceilings so high you can barely see them and a carefully curated ambience that practically screams old money, it blends right in. It also gives you an updated timeframe on your would-be date’s tardiness.

Scratch that – thirty minutes.

Pulling out your phone, the absence of any new notifications is almost as annoying as whatever threadbare excuse you’re sure your date will offer you when he arrives. Glancing at the door, it remains devoid of any new patrons. Or perhaps rather if he arrives.

You’re running near empty on both pinot noir and patience, and you use the distraction of your phone to make you seem a little less pathetic. As if this entire restaurant isn’t already privy to the fact that you’re actively being stood up.

Well, you think wryly, at least you look good doing it. The off white ensemble you selected for the evening is Chanel, and vintage, at that. Usually you wouldn’t pull out all the stops like this for something as flimsy as a first date, but men like James Sim have an eye for this kind of thing.

Four years your senior, he’s already carving out a name for himself at twenty-five. You suppose it is a little less impressive, though, when the name he was born with already carries a legacy of its own in the business world you usually do your very best to stay out of. Rumor has it he’s already a shoo-in for the next CEO of his father’s company. When nepotism is that blatant, you can’t do much but scoff and raise a glass to it.

Scrambling for something to do to make your wasted time pass a bit quicker, you search up the social media profile of your would-be date. Honestly, you doubt you would learn anything more substantial about him if he actually bothered to show up than you will from scanning over his feed. In your experience, men like that tend to make up for their success on paper by lacking an actual personality and any sort of self-awareness.

Gym selfie. Scroll. Gym selfie from a slightly different angle. Scroll. Dog photo. Pausing, you suppress a small smile. The dog in the picture is pretty cute, if nothing else. Zooming in slightly, your eyes crinkle at the way the dog’s tongue lolls out of its open mouth in a grin. Well, at least he’s got that going for him, you suppose. A cute dog is enough to bump any guy’s ranking up a few points in your book.

If James Sim is nothing but a sum of his social media profile, it’s not like you expected anything else. After all, this is the heir to the Sim Corporation, a golden boy that was born with a crown on his head and a gold spoon in his mouth. Everything he’s earned has been laid out for him in painstakingly placed steps. His entire life has been guided by a heavy hand and the knowledge that he would one day inherit everything that makes his family worth knowing.

You probably wouldn’t be too concerned with showing up to first dates on time, either. Especially since you doubt he’s ever been denied a second.

Tonight is nothing but a blip on a radar, you’re sure. Something for a secretary to schedule and him to notice a day or five late. Maybe if you’re lucky, someone on his team will send a consolatory bouquet once he does realize the mistake. He is still building his reputation, after all, and you could use a fresh set of flowers for your apartment.

With another slightly pitiful sigh and a final swig of wine, your glass is empty and your optimism is shot. A second glance at the clock says that thirty-eight minutes have now elapsed since your scheduled meeting time. And in your opinion, that’s thirty-nine too late for a first date.

Retrieving your coat from the back of your chair, you figure tonight will be remembered as nothing but a waste of a good outfit. Besides, you suppose forty minutes of aimless scrolling is ultimately less painful than the inevitable headache this date surely would have been had he bothered to actually show up.

Suddenly, you frown. You won’t complain if this date never actually happens, but you may end up with a slight problem. Although you haven’t been on the best of terms with your mother in a long time, tonight was meant to be the final bullet point on a list of favors you owe her.

As you pull your coat on, you consider the best way to frame the events of the evening. Lean into the whole ‘getting stood up’ thing in an effort to earn some sympathy points? Lay out the facts in their most basic form, timestamps included? Emphasize the fact that you waited long past the obligatory twenty minutes for him to actually show up? Or leave your message chain as it currently is, tell her nothing at all, and let her assume what she wants?

They’re all equally iffy, you think. Risky in their own regard.

Signing your name at the bottom of the check, you scribble in a generous tip for the waitress who did her best to check on you often without making it obvious that she knew you were expecting company that never arrived, expertly skirting that line between overbearing and empathetic. At least someone will go home happy, you think, adding an extra zero for good measure.

Exiting the restaurant, you decide to make it two people. James Sim may be a hotshot at his father’s company, but you’ll be damned before you let him ruin your evening. Before you order the Uber back to your place, you add an extra stop at your favorite sushi place. Takeout in the comfort of your own home will certainly be easier to enjoy than whatever Michelin-Star concoction you would have ordered here anyway, eaten in small bites between forced conversation topics, awkward pauses, and too long sips of wine.

And an hour later, you’re polishing off the last piece of an absolutely divine rainbow roll, wearing nothing but silk pajamas and a face mask, with old reruns of your favorite show playing on the TV when James Sim finally glances down at the Rolex on his wrist. He’s finally arrived at the tail end of a meeting that’s running so far behind schedule he has half a mind to just walk out of it. He would, too, if his father wouldn’t actually threaten his life for it.

It’s late, James realizes. Stupid late. So late that he won’t have the time or energy to do anything but pass out by the time he gets home, which really sucks, because he was genuinely looking forward to his date tonight–

“Fuck.”

All he can do is curse, even as the shocked faces of a concerning number of top executives turn to look at him all at the same time.

…

Jake Sim is about to fail his econ midterm.

It will be at least a week before grades are released, but he already knows it. He can already feel it in the way the questions start to swim in his mind, making less and less sense the more he turns them over, in the way his gut fills with dread as the minute hand of the clock at the front of the lecture hall ticks closer and closer to the testing time limit.

And it wouldn’t be that bad, if it weren’t his second time repeating this course.

Oh, his father is going to have an absolute field day with this one. Jake can practically hear it now.

“You failed your midterm? After already failing this course twice? You know, James was actually the top scoring student in his economic section. Dr. Jeong still mentions his term paper every time I see him at the university…”

And that’s if he’s in a good mood. Or rather, if things at the company are going well. Jake doesn’t even want to consider the comments he’ll be on the receiving end of if the news of his failure finds his father already agitated.

Exhaling, he gives his exam one final once-over, scanning for completion more than accuracy. His brain is so fried that he knows it’s of little use to him now. For his own sake, the best thing to do at this point is turn his test in and send a silent prayer to whoever might be listening on his way out the door.

Leaving the lecture hall behind him, Jake puts his phone out of airplane mode and frowns at the two notifications that pop up on his screen. The first is a missed call from his brother, and the second is a message from the same sender, requesting that he give him a call when he has the chance.

Considering that it’s neither his birthday nor a major holiday, Jake is more than a little confused. Regardless, he honors the request, pressing his phone to his ear as he begins the walk back to his apartment. Although it’s significantly less spacious than his childhood home, he finds it far more welcoming in more ways than one.

The outgoing call rings once, twice, three times. Jake is about to be annoyed at the missed connection, but his brother answers in the moments just before he’s sent to voicemail.

“Hey, Jake.” Shocking. He actually bothered to check the caller ID.

“Hey.” Jake’s voice is careful, guarded. It’s not like his personal life is of any importance to his older brother, but he’s not in the mood to answer any questions. He won’t give James any reasons to ask. “I saw your message.”

“Right.” Jake can hear the shuffle of other voices, scattered movements coming from the other line. James sounds busy. Just like always. Usually, that would usually mean he’s distracted. But Jake has the odd feeling that he has his brother’s undivided attention when James adds, “I have a favor to ask you.”

Immediately, Jake’s stomach drops. There are very few things in this world that are not within James Sim’s grasp, and even less that are within Jake’s, relatively speaking. Whatever it is, he must be desperate, if he’s willing to enlist the help of his little brother.

“Okay.” Jake’s voice betrays none of his sudden anxieties. “What is it?”

At least James spares him the agony of suspense. “You know ___, right?”

Jake frowns. Sure, he knows of you. Just like he has a vague idea of every one of his family’s business partners and their immediate kin. Particularly the ones that are the same age as him and attend the same university. But it’s not like he’s close with you, not like he’s ever had an actual conversation of any substance with you.

Especially since the minimal interactions the two of you have had did not leave Jake wanting more. The only child of parents whose last name is on the front of the most successful law firm within a thousand mile radius, you strike him as everything he’d expect you to be.

Spoiled. Entitled. Vapid. Out of touch with any version of reality that doesn’t consist of you getting everything you want at the exact moment you want it. He supposes it’s a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, considering his own upbringing, but he’d like to think that he’s earned what he’s been given, at least partially. Especially since most of it has been his brother’s hand-me-downs. And it’s not like his father has ever been in the habit of doing him any favors that don’t come wrapped in criticism, comparison, and disdain.

Although rumor does have it you and your mother haven’t been on speaking terms since you left for university, Jake imagines it’s probably because you wanted to bring the limited edition Versace to campus with you, and she insisted it would be safer at home.

Oh, well. Whatever designer dispute happened between you and your mother is no skin off his back. Jake has his own problems to worry about.

One of them being his brother’s question that still lingers on the other line.

Weighing responses in his head, Jake finally settles on, “I guess.” It’s his best attempt at being noncommittal.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t do anything to dissuade his brother. “Do you have her number by chance? My secretary should have taken it down, but she can’t find it anywhere.”

Jake balks, footsteps faltering. An equally distracted student walking behind him nearly stumbles right into his back. Wordlessly, Jake sends them an apologetic look before clarifying, “Her number? Like, her personal phone number?”

“What other kind of number is there?” And there’s the James that Jake knows. Annoyed at the perceived incompetencies of his younger brother, just as always.

Suddenly, Jake’s patience is running short too. James is the one asking for a favor and still has the gall to be annoyed with him. Typical. Jake’s words are clipped when he says, “No, I don’t have ___’s phone number.”

Jake expects that to be the end of it, but his brother won’t let it go so easily.

“Seriously? Don’t you two go to the same school?”

Jake rolls his eyes. “Right, because I have the entire student body on speed dial.”

There’s a pause on the other end. Jake half expects his brother to just hang up on him. After all, he’s never been able to take what he gets, to swallow what he dishes out.

What Jake does not expect, however, is the way James sounds so tentative when he speaks again. “Well…”

“Well what?” Patience already running thin, it’s all he can do not to snap.

“Do you think you could get it for me?”

Jake must be dreaming. This must be a post-exam punishment, a hallucination brought on by over exerting his brain too far for too long. “Do I think I could get ___’s phone number for you?” he repeats flatly.

“Is there an echo in here?” Asshole. At least he’s consistent.

“Just an echo chamber,” Jake mutters away from the receiver.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” Jake stops for a moment to fiddle with his keyring as he walks up the stairs to his apartment. “No, I can’t get her phone number for you.”

“Why not?”

The key won’t line up quite right. Jake tries again, frustration seeping through. “Because I have better things to do than run stupid errands for you. Why don’t you drive here and get it yourself?”

“Trust me, if I thought she’d give it to me, I’d be there in an hour.”

The lock on his door finally clicks open, and Jake all but throws his bag down after kicking off his shoes. “And what the hell makes you think she’d give it to me?”

“Well, you didn’t accidentally stand her up, for one.” James doesn’t sound embarrassed by it. Just matter-of-fact. Like a date is nothing but a business deal. Something to be rescheduled and redone if negotiations go sour the first time around.

It is enough to stir up some of Jake’s curiosity, though. “You went on a date with ___?” He supposes it makes sense. Even if the rumor mill and its rumblings about your rocky relationship with your mother ring true, you’re still your parents’ daughter. Still a perfect match on paper for the future CEO of the Sim Corporation. The king of a company and princess of a law firm. It’s a match made in heaven, he thinks ruefully.

“No, I didn’t. That’s kind of the whole point here.”

“Whatever.” Jake still doesn’t see what the hell he has to do with all this. “Why don’t you just look up her parents’ number in the company database and get it from them?”

Jake can practically feel his brother’s exasperation through the phone. “Right, because that would go over really well. Hi there," he imitates. “I’d like to make your daughter the mother of my future children. Care to pass along her phone number so I can get started on that?”

Jake suppresses a wince. “Jesus. I see why she stood you up.”

“She didn’t. I stood her up,” James clarifies. “On accident.”

Semantics. And not ones that Jake is interested in. “Either way. I’m not getting her number for you.”

“Yeah?” Jake is unsettled by the way there’s still no trace of defeat in his brother’s voice. There’s something almost sinister when he suddenly switches topics. “How are classes going?”

Jake’s lips pull into a taut line, disaster of an econ midterm still fresh on his mind. “Fine.”

“Really? Even econ? Third time’s the charm and all that?” Well, at least his brother can be counted on to consistently be an asshole.

“Why do you care?” The only thing Jake wants to do is end this call and crawl into bed for a well-deserved afternoon nap. Let his subconscious spare him from thoughts of his older brother and econ and you for at least a little bit.

James has other plans. “You must have taken the midterm recently, right?” Jake’s silence is confirmation enough. “You know, the only thing Dr. Jeong weighs more heavily than the midterm is the final paper at the end of the semester.”

A minute ago, Jake thought you were the last thing he wanted to talk about. The sudden shift in direction in this conversation is starting to prove him wrong. If there’s one thing Jake would rather discuss even less than his older brother’s dating life, it’s school. “What does that have to do with a–”

“And I think I still have my copy of the paper that earned me the top score in my entire section.” The smugness is practically palpable. “I might have to do some digging, but I’m sure it’s in my old files somewhere.”

Jake rolls his eyes, wishes the immediate comparison weren’t the first thing to rise to the forefront of his mind. Wishes it didn’t find him so lacking. Wishes it wasn’t narrated in the voice of his disappointed father. “If you’re trying to gloat, it’s n–”

“I’m trying to strike a deal. Jesus, no wonder you’re on track to be a super senior getting a business degree.”

“This is my third year,” Jake defends indignantly.

“And your third attempt at econ, which I passed in my first year.” He sounds like he’s settling a little too well into the CEO role when he proposes, “I’m trying to make it your last attempt.”

Jake would be lying if he said his curiosity weren’t piqued, even just slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying, little brother, that my term paper, my notes, all of it, are yours.” It sounds too good to be true. It has to be too good to be true. James is a lot of things, but generous and helpful are very rarely any of them. “As soon as you get me ___’s number.” And there it is.

Jake hangs up without bothering to dignify that with a response and hopes it sends a strong enough signal of his refusal. Then, he falls into his bed face-first with a groan.

And a week later, when his econ midterm results are finally posted, the first thing Jake does is let his head fall on his desk with an alarmingly loud thud that has Jay poking his head in the door to make sure everything’s okay. The second thing he does, a solid twenty minutes later, is send his older brother a text.

Jake [7:21pm]: You better start digging through those old files.

…

All things considered, you’re easier to track down than Jake expects. The university campus is big, and judging from the way he can’t remember ever seeing you in a class, the two of you don’t share a major. But the similarities in your social status mean you’re bound to run in some of the same circles, and Jake is able to use this to his advantage.

Ultimately, it takes very little digging on his part. First, he mentions your name to Jay in the middle of an upper body superset in the university gym. Jay frowns, setting the weights back on the rack.

“That name sounds familiar. I think maybe Heeseung knows her?”

That tidbit takes him to Wednesday night, which always finds Jake in the library at a statistics study group Heeseung also makes a habit of attending. On their way out for the evening, Jake stops him by the door.

“___?” Heeseung pauses for a moment in contemplation. “I’m pretty sure she’s friends with Sunghoon.”

And the third piece of the puzzle proves a bit more difficult to click into place. Sunghoon is harder for Jake to find, at least in a way that comes across naturally. Much like yours, Park Sunghoon is a name Jake hears in passing more than anything. He’s a friend of friends, a mutual acquaintance that Jake has never really had a conversation with and certainly doesn’t know well enough to interrogate for your phone number.

But his most recent midterm score is still looming over his head, and the thought of retaking econ again is so nightmarish it sends a shiver down his spine every time he considers it. At this point, there isn’t much Jake wouldn’t put on the line to pass the damn class. Including his pride, apparently.

So when Jake hears from Jay who hears from Heeseung that Sunghoon will probably be at the party Epsilon Nu Eta is throwing this Friday night, he starts to formulate a plan.

And he starts to regret said plan less than twenty-four hours later when he finds himself on the doorstep of a frat party. A frat party. He can’t remember the last time he came to one of these things. At twenty-one, he already feels geriatric as he tugs self-consciously at the sleeves of the plan black long sleeve he put on for the occasion. Something that will hopefully hide the questionable stains he’ll inevitably leave with.

Entering through the front door with hinges that don’t align quite right, Jake has one mission in mind: find Park Sunghoon. Find him and somehow convince him to pass along your number. There’s a fine line to be walked there, Jake thinks. If he comes across as too eager, it will just be creepy. Nonchalance is the name of the game, but he’s never been good at keeping his cards close to his chest.

For Jake, it’s a tall order, which means the only detour he’ll allow himself is grabbing a cup of lukewarm beer from the kitchen before he sets out looking for Sunghoon. The alcohol is an effort to break the barrier of his inhibitions more than anything. To make what he’s about to do feel a little less painful.

Making his way out of the kitchen, Jake wanders aimlessly for a few minutes. He doesn’t know much about Sunghoon, other than the fact that he competes for your university’s figure skating team and is undeniably handsome. A good-looking figure skater, Jake thinks as he turns down yet another crowded hallway, narrowly avoiding spilling his drink. Where would one of those be hiding?

He spends a few more awkward minutes asking around to no avail. Just when he’s on the verge of saying fuck it and making some sort of sacrifice to the econ gods instead, Jake bumps into the man of the hour on his way to the bathroom.

In the chaos, Jake doesn’t recognize him until it’s almost too late. “Hey,” Jake calls out, bladder all but forgotten for now. He’s trying to fake an air of coolness when he adds, “Sunghoon, right?”

“Yeah.” Jake thanks his lucky stars that Sunghoon must be at least two drinks in, because he doesn’t seem weirded out at all by the sudden question from a near stranger.

“I’m Jake.” He reaches his arm out for a handshake. Blinking, Sunghoon just stares at his outstretched hand as long, awkward moments bleed into each other. Eventually, Jake just lets it fall back to his side. “I’m, uh, in a statistics class with Heeseung.”

“Right on,” Sunghoon nods, still unsure if this conversation has a point to it. Luckily, the pleasant haze clouding his thoughts means he doesn’t mind too much either way.

Jake figures there’s no point in dragging this out by exchanging more pleasantries, and he has the feeling Sunghoon might start forgetting his own name, much less yours, if he lets this continue for too long.

“Listen,” Jake starts, trying to sound as not creepy as possible. “I heard that you know ___ pretty well.”

Sunghoon just shrugs. Jake can’t tell if he’s succeeded. “You could say that.”

“I know this is a strange request, but, uh,” Jake scratches the side of his head, “is there any chance I could get her number? I promise not to do anything weird.” Word vomiting, the extra details are spilling out before he can stop them. “It’s not even for me, actually–”

Sunghoon spares him the rest of a rambling explanation. “Sorry, bud. No can do.”

Jake’s stomach tightens in panic. He really, really just needs your phone number. It has him forgetting his earlier inhibitions, throwing caution to the wind even if he’s making a bit of a fool of himself in the process. “It’s for something important, actually. I’m kind of desperate–”

Sunghoon just puts a consolatory hand on Jake’s shoulder, interrupting his train of thought. “Look, man, it’s nothing against you personally, but I have literally never met you in my life. Besides, if I gave out ___’s number to every random guy that asked, I’m pretty sure she’d shave my head.” Sunghoon leans in close, like he’s about to share a secret. Jake’s nose twists at the scent of alcohol on his breath. “And between you and me, I don’t think I could pull off being bald.”

Jake kind of begs to differ, but that’s neither here nor there. He opens his mouth to plead his case again, but Sunghoon doesn’t even let him get a word out.

“Sorry, man, but I really can’t help you.” Pausing for a moment, he considers. “You said your name was Jacob, though, right?” He doesn’t pause long enough for Jake to correct him. “I could ask her if she’s cool with giving you her number–”

“Whose number are you giving out?” And if Jake thought this conversation wasn’t enough of a train wreck already, trust the timing of your entrance to be more disastrous than divine.

Eyes turning to you and your sudden intrusion on the conversation, Jake’s mind goes blank for a minute. And yeah, he kinda gets why his brother’s so hellbent on having a second chance at your time. Dressed in all black, your hair is loose around your face. Even though it likely costs more than most people’s monthly paycheck, there’s nothing inherently special about what you’re wearing. Still, Jake is finding it exceedingly difficult to look away.

It’s something in your aura, he thinks. In the way you carry yourself. Something that money can’t buy. Something that makes his gaze want to linger.

“___!” Sunghoon grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, wobbling slightly. You jostle at the sudden impact, inching away from where the contents of his cup slosh dangerously close to the rim. “What a coincidence. We were just talking about you.”

Your brow creases in confusion. Jake tracks the miniscule movement with parted lips.

“You were?”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon confirms, just at the same moment Jake shakes his head, “No.”

Turning your mildly concerned gaze away from your friend, you glance at Jake for the first time. Brow furrowing further, you cock your head to the side as your lips part in partial recognition. He looks oddly familiar, but you can’t quite place him. “Do I know you?”

“No.” Jake shakes his head again, a little too fervently. “I don’t think we’ve ever met. At least not properly.”

It’s an odd way of putting it. You’re about to ask him to clarify when Sunghoon cuts in, clearing up the confusion for you. “It’s Jacob,” he says, as if that should mean anything to you. Turning back to the boy across from him, he adds, “Jacob Sim, right?”

And that clicks things into place.

“Sim?” you echo, realization dawning on your features.

“Yep,” Sunghoon confirms.

Across from you, Jake says nothing. He doesn’t think he could if he wanted to. In fact, he’s pretty sure his life is flashing before his eyes.

“Sim,” you repeat one final time, jaw ticking in agitation as everything starts to settle. “I do know you.”

“Oh, really?” Sunghoon asks at your side, oblivious to the way your tone betrays obvious animosity. A distaste so palpable Jake can practically feel it radiating off of you. Turning back to Jake, he’s apologetic. “Sorry, Jacob. I guess I could have given you her number, then.” Sunghoon smiles sheepishly, as if he hasn’t just made things a million times worse. “My bad.”

Jake’s eyes widen in horror as he scrambles for some sort of defense, an explanation that will dig him out of this rapidly deepening hole, but you beat him to it.

“My number?” The look you give him has a concerning amount of venom in it. “Seriously? God, why are all you Sim men so obsessed with me?”

“That’s not–”

“First your brother views my LinkedIn profile twenty-three times after standing me up, and now you’re harassing my friends for my phone number?”

“Hold on. I’m not harassing anyone–”

“No,” Sunghoon agrees, nodding diplomatically. “Jacob was perfectly pleasant–”

“It’s Jake, actually.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, just Jake.”

“Sorry,” Sunghoon apologizes. Turning to you, he tries mediating again. “Well, like I said, just Jake was perfectly pleasant–”

“I don’t care how pleasant he is.” Your glare somehow becomes icier. “Leave me alone, and tell your dickhead brother to do the same.” Muttering to yourself more than anything, you add, “The last thing I need right now is you practically stalking me–”

“Stalking you?” Jake flounders, an edge of annoyance creeping into his tone. He’s not surprised to learn that you really do think the world revolves around you, but really? Stalking? “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s not like I’m enjoying this interaction any more than you are.”

You don’t back down, crossing your arms over your chest. The movement has Sunghoon teetering dangerously where he leans on you, but you pay him no mind, attention focused solely on the man in front of you. “Then why do you want my phone number so bad?”

“Like I was trying to say earlier when you wouldn’t let me get a word out sideways,” Jake bites, “it’s not for me. I made a deal with someone, and I told them I’d give them your number.”

Your gaze narrows. “Who?”

“What?”

“Who did you make a deal with?”

Jake hesitates, knowing how the truth will sound. Screw it – a lie would likely be just as damning. Still, it takes him another pregnant pause to eventually admit, “... My brother.”

Scoffing in disbelief, you double down on your ire. “Absolutely not.” Shaking Sunghoon off your shoulder, you turn to leave, dragging him with you. Jake’s eyes close; he can’t bear to watch his last chance at passing this semester leave him in the dust.

So much so that he pleads again, “Wait, ___. Please.” Jake is begging now, and he feels a little pathetic for it. Still, he can’t help the way desperation drives him to continue. “You can block him for all I care. I can’t explain everything, but my life is quite literally in your hands right now. I just need–”

“No.” The single syllable vibrates with finality. “Do I have to spell it for you? N-” you bite, enunciating so sharply Jake thinks you might draw blood. “O. No. I’m not giving my number to you or your flake of a brother or anyone else that so much as looks like they might have the name Sim.”

God, is the only think Jake can think as he miserably watches your retreating figure, Sunghoon stumbling along as you drag him with you. I am so fucked.

…

When Sunghoon finally emerges from your guest bedroom an hour before noon the next day, it’s to ask if you’d be kind enough to spare him some Advil. Even with a bad case of bedhead and the aftermath of overconsumption, he still manages to look good, albeit a little lifeless.

“I’ll do you one better,” you tell him, but reach for the small white bottle anyway, shaking out a few tablets and offering them to your best friend along with a glass of cold water.

“Bagels and coffee?” Sunghoon asks over the rim of his glass, with a little more alertness in his eyes than there was moments before.

“Bagels and coffee,” you confirm. A tried and true hangover cure, if there ever was one. And even though your head is feeling nice and clear, thanks to your trusty two drink limit that has yet to fail you, the local cafe a block from your apartment is very rarely something you turn down.

Thirty minutes later and a change of clothes later, the two of you are trading gossip and stealing bites of each other’s orders when the other person isn’t looking at the table in the back corner of the cafe. Sunghoon is just about to stuff another piece of your bagel in his mouth when he notices yet another notification light up the screen of your phone.

Sunghoon nods towards where it rests on the table, bagel suddenly forgotten. “Is that your mom again?”

“Yep.” Your lips stretch thin. You don’t even need to glance down at your phone to confirm. She’s been blowing up your notifications all weekend. “She’s been on my ass about the upcoming fundraiser event for days now. And reminding me about the utmost importance of bringing an appropriate plus-one.”

Across from you, Sunghoon straightens his shoulders. “I suppose it is about time I bust out the trusty old prom suit again.”

You sigh, sending your half-eaten bagel a forlorn glance. “I wish. She told me if I ever bring you again, I lose half my trust fund.”

“What?” Sunghoon looks affronted. “Why?”

You level him with a look. “Does soap ring a bell?”

Sunghoon splutters in indignation. “That was one time,” he defends. “And anyone would have thought those were edible! They were shaped like candies, and they were on a platter–”

“Soap presentation aside, I don’t think that excuse will work on her.” The dejection in your voice is apparent. “Besides, she’s already made it very clear that you’re explicitly forbidden from attending any future family events as my plus-one.”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon grumbles. “Keep all your stupid inedible soaps.” Pausing for a moment, he realizes that still leaves a giant question hanging in the air. “Who are you gonna bring, then? You know, it kind of is too bad your date with Sim number one didn’t pan out.”

You shrug, pointedly ignoring the way your phone screen lights up yet again. It really is a bit of a shame James turned out to be an unreliable flake. One that still hasn’t bothered to apologize to you or even give any sort of indication that he remembered your scheduled date. Still, you can’t think of anyone that would earn your mother’s approval faster. “I’ll probably just fake a stomach flu.” After all, you’re kind of out of options. “I thought about asking Jungwon, but he’s got stuff going on for his internship that night. A big economics conference or something.”

“Speaking of economics,” Sunghoon leans in conspiratorially. “I think I might have some intel on our new friend from last night.”

“How was economics the segue you went with? We were literally just talking about his older brother.” Giving him a look of disbelief, you add, “And what about that interaction gave you the impression that we’re friends?”

“Whatever,” Sunghoon brushes you off before he continues, “Anyway, I heard from Heeseung who heard from Jay that apparently little Sim is hot garbage at economics. Rumor has it he’s already failed the class twice and is on track to do it again.”

You’re not sure why he’s deemed this information relevant to you, but you’d be lying if you said it weren’t a little amusing.

“Really? Jungwon’s taking it now too, and he said that he sleeps through half the lectures and is still pulling an A.”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes. “Well, we can’t all be prodigies.”

Your lips flatten. “Pretty sure you don’t have to be a prodigy to not fail an entry level course three times.”

“Hey, cut him some slack,” Sunghoon argues. “He’s only failed it twice as of now.”

You scoff, entirely uninterested in the gory details of Jake Sim’s academic failures. “Whatever.”

“Either way,” Sunghoon says, “Jay told Heeseung who told me that’s why he’s so desperate for your number.” Confusion makes itself known on your features. You still don’t see the connection until Sunghoon adds, “Apparently he made some sort of deal with his brother that if he gets him your phone number, he’ll help him pass econ.”

A beat of silence passes between you. The barista at the counter calls out a customer’s name. It’s all you can do to not let your jaw physically drop open, mostly because–

“That is probably the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard in my life.” Glaring at Sunghoon, you can’t believe the theatrics of it all. “How many times have I told you to stop believing everything Heeseung says?”

“Technically, Jay said it,” Sunghoon corrects. “And I don’t know... It kind of makes sense when you think about it.”

You beg to differ. “It absolutely does not. What is this, middle school? Are we passing notes behind the teacher’s back and making our friends ask our crushes if they like us back?” It’s ridiculous. Absolutely, utterly ridiculous.

There is no way. Absolutely no way that James Sim, heir to a multimillion dollar company, is wasting his time giving his little brother an economics cheat sheet in exchange for your phone number.

Sunghoon raises his hands in mock surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I just thought you might be curious.”

And you hate to admit it, but you kind of are. Even though every ounce of logic you’ve accumulated in twenty-one years of life tells you that Heeseung is a notorious gossip whose stories are just as much fiction as reality and your best friend is no better. Even though the whole thing makes absolutely no sense at all.

Even though you repeat it to yourself over and over for the rest of the day, that damn curiosity is still there. Pestering you and disturbing your sleep and leaving you wondering if maybe, just maybe, some things are entirely too ridiculous to be anything but true.

…

On Wednesday night, Jake and Heeseung are in the middle of a particularly brutal probability set when a sudden shadow looms over their favorite corner table on the third floor of the library.

Glancing up, Jake finds Heeseung’s gaze already trained somewhere over his shoulder. Jake can’t quite tell if the look on his face is confusion or terror.

“Mind if I join?” The request comes from behind him, posed in an oddly familiar voice. Heeseung is nodding in agreement before Jake has the chance to so much as turn around and identify the intruder.

All is revealed soon enough, though, when you slide down into the seat next to him, ignoring the way Heeseung scrambles to move his things and make room for you in the seat next to him. Instead, you busy yourself with setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your laptop.

It’s all Jake can do to stare at you blankly. This evening, you’ve traded the all black outfit from the other night’s party for something a bit more casual, something comfortable that blends in better to the background of a university library. The sudden proximity also means that the scent of your perfume is quick to waft over towards him.

Jake does his best to hold his breath before his brain can trick him into thinking he likes it.

“Stop looking at me like that.” A bold request for someone who just hijacked a study session and sat down with no explanation, but Jake wouldn’t expect anything less from you.

“Like what?” The words are out before he gives them permission. Across the table, Heeseung is staring too, but all three of you know the command isn’t for him.

“I don’t know.” Glancing at the battery bar hovering just above empty, you dig around in your bag for a moment for your laptop charger. Jake notes that you still have yet to look at him. Instead, you begin to busy yourself with typing something on your computer. “Just stop it.”

He hopes you can feel the way his eyes burn holes into the side of your head as his blank stare shifts into a glare.

Heeseung glances between the two of you. His outburst is sudden. “Oh! I just remembered.” He hits his head for good measure. The acting is wasted on this audience, though. Neither of you pay him any mind or even bother to glance in his direction. “I have to go, uh…” he trails off, finishing lamely with a rather flat, “somewhere else.”

“Great.” Your eyes don’t leave your screen, fingers still flying on your keyboard. “See you later.”

As Heeseung scrambles to pack up his unfinished statistics homework and high tail it out of the library, the air that has suddenly become stifling, Jake glances down at where your fingers are still moving.

Distractedly, he wonders how you can type so fast with nails that long, how you never seem to need the backspace key. How none of the pastel pink that coats your fingernails seems to be so much as chipped. A projection of perfection, he thinks, down to every last detail.

Moments pass, neither of you saying anything.

You still haven’t looked at him by the time you do eventually break the impasse. “I heard you suck at econ.”

And Jake actually cannot believe you. “Did you seriously hunt me down just to rub it in?”

“Rub it in?” That at least earns him some of your attention, even if it is just a brief, confused glance as your fingers pause in their typing. “It’s not like I’m the reason you can’t pass.”

“Believe it or not, you quite literally are.”

You sigh, removing your hands from your keyboard entirely. Then, before he can blink, you spin your entire body in your chair, eyes, shoulders, and knees all directly trained on him. Jake can’t help the way he flinches back a few inches at the sudden change in pace.

“Look,” you start. He can already tell by the way you wrap the single syllable sound in patronization that he’s not going to appreciate whatever you’re about to say. “I can tell that you’re not used to, like, having conversations with people, but usually what happens is you give someone enough information so that they know what you’re talking about.” He’s right.

And he’s quick to defend himself. “Maybe I could, if you’d let me get three words out without interr–”

But you’ve moved on already. “Is the whole ‘deal with your brother’ thing true?”

Jake lets the silence linger for a moment, looking at you in disbelief. “You literally just proved my point.”

You roll your eyes. “I knew what you were going to say, so I sped things along. Now answer my question.” You lay it out for him again. This time, even more directly. “Did you try to get my number because of some deal you made with your brother?”

He’s not sure why it sounds so ridiculous, narrated back to him in your voice. It’s not like it was a brilliant, foolproof plan to begin with, but the way you present it has him feeling about five inches tall.

“I…”

“It’s a yes or no question.” You really don’t beat around the bush, he thinks.

“Yes, okay?”

Looking behind you, you suddenly lean in a little closer. It’s all Jake can do not to flinch back again. Bringing your hand up to cup your mouth, it’s like you’re about to divulge a terrible secret when you whisper, “You’re that bad at econ?”

Jake just sighs. “Worse, probably.”

Frowning, you pull back a few inches. “Aren’t you a business major? Isn’t econ, like, pretty important for you?” If he were thinking clearly, Jake might wonder how you know that. But that only thing his mind has space for right now is annoyance. At you, at this exchange, at the way you so easily pick through his flaws and seem to have no problem laying them bare at his feet like he doesn't already know them intimately.

“Yeah, well, it’s not like I got any say in my major,” Jake counters. He might have more patience for this conversation if he were having it with anyone but you, if you weren’t throwing his own insecurities back in his face with every follow-up question.

At that, something flickers through your eyes. Sympathy, maybe. “Fair enough.” Whatever it is, it’s gone before he can identify it. And it’s not enough to make you pull your punches. “Still though, that’s probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Jake doesn’t need the reminder. “Just get a tutor like everyone else.”

The thing is, Jake has thought about it. On more than one occasion. He’s even gotten so far as filling out the university tutor request form. He just could never quite bring himself to complete the ‘Name’ field without all of the potential consequences forcing him to hit backspace.

He might not be his brother, but he’s not stupid enough to think that his family would ever be okay with the Sim name anywhere near a tutor form. He tells you as much. “And listen to my dad tell me how much of a disappointment I am for not being able to even take a class on my own?” Jake laughs humorlessly. “No thanks.”

A beat passes. Two. You’re not done yet, but you at least have the decency to sound a little apologetic, a little tentative when you say, “Not to kick you while you’re down or anything, but I mean, that has to be better than failing twice.”

Jake just shakes his head. “You don’t know my father.”

You shrug but don’t press the matter further. Truth be told, you don’t know his father, but you do know fathers like him. You have one of your own. The third floor of the library doesn’t seem like the place for that conversation, though, even if you’ve already uncovered more than your fair share of each other’s secrets in the last ten minutes. “I guess not.”

…

Your phone is buzzing far too incessantly for a Saturday morning, much less this early on a Saturday morning. Internally, you curse Friday night you, who forgot to switch it into do not disturb before falling asleep. Face still buried in your pillow, you reach around your nightstand blindly with the intention of remedying that particular mistake and enjoying a few more moments of peace.

Before you can make good on your plan, you make the fatal mistake of reading the message preview before silencing your phone. And suddenly, to your neverending annoyance, you’re wide awake.

Mom [7:36 am]: Looking forward to seeing you next Saturday at the fundraiser.

Mom [7:37 am]: I also noticed that you haven’t indicated who you’ll be bringing yet. Please fill out the RSVP form when you have a moment.

Mom [7:45 am]: James Sim hasn’t RSVP’d yet. Are you bringing him? You should invite him if you haven’t already.

Mom [7:53 am]: I also never heard the update after your date a few weeks ago. Hoping no news is good news. I just spoke with his father the other day, and it sounds like he’s doing great things over at their company.

Mom [8:01 am]: I also heard that he volunteered a few summers ago rebuilding turtle habitats. Wow! I think you two would get along very well.

Groaning, you flip your phone back over. That about sums up how well she knows her only daughter, you think ruefully. If she thought wooing you with turtles was a good idea, she must have forgotten that you’ve had a lingering phobia of the freaky little reptiles since your friend from elementary school had a pet turtle that bit your finger when you were at her house.

Besides, you have serious doubts that’s actually how James Sim spent his last summer in university.

If memories from your social media scrolling serve correctly, rebuilding turtle habitats was code for partying on a yacht for a month straight. You don’t care how he spends his free time, but the way he already has your mother wrapped around his stupid finger is enough to annoy any lingering sleepiness out of your system.

Whatever. James Sim’s white lies are the least of your concerns now, and they certainly won’t solve your problems. If anything, you’re starting to regret not telling your mother anything about your failed attempt at a first date with him. Now, trying to explain that disaster of an evening would only sound like an excuse at best and a flimsy lie at worst.

And even if she did believe you, you still have the glaring issue of next Saturday and your lack of a pre-approved plus-one.

With one final groan, you pull your blanket over your face, trying and failing to banish any thoughts of your mother, James Sim, and the certain disaster next weekend will be.

Despite your best efforts, your worries linger. They follow you into Sunday; they start to make you desperate on Monday. With a diminishing handful of days left until the fundraiser, your anxiety only surges.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’re so stressed out that you can barely force your eyes to focus on the nearly blank Word document in front of you, all of the legalese and case details you can usually sort through in your sleep jumbling into one incomprehensible blob.

Halfway through your third reread of a paragraph that details the basics of copyright law, it strikes you. The seedling of an idea so utterly ridiculous it just might be your saving grace.

Your mother probably, definitely, couldn’t care less about James Sim’s so-called affinity for wildlife rescue. No, the only thing that makes him an appropriate candidate in her eyes for this Saturday has nothing to do with his personality at all.

It’s his name that she likes. His family name specifically.

In the middle of your favorite cafe, it hits you. The seedling of an idea sprouts roots, begins to bloom.

If one Sim is good enough to be your plus-one, then surely the other one would be too.

And you know exactly where he’ll be tonight. Glancing down at the time on your phone, you force your brain to think. Now, all you need is a plan. A way to convince him. Something he can’t refuse.

Closing the lid of your laptop, you smile. You know exactly what it is he wants.

Before you leave the cafe, you send a quick message to a friend. Set your plan in place so that the details are polished, irrefutable when you present it to him.

And then you set out for the university library.

When you find Jake and Heeseung sitting at the same exact table on the third floor of the library, Heeseung doesn’t even bother to stick around for the customary greetings. Instead, he takes one single look at you before offering another flimsy excuse about having somewhere to be. Or maybe something to do. You can’t remember, and it doesn’t really matter.

After all, the only reason you’re here is because–

“I have a way for you to pass econ.” Sliding into the seat next to Jake, the same one you sat in last time, you don’t waste any time before divulging the reason for your presence.

If Jake is startled, he doesn’t show it. Statistics homework forgotten on the table, the only thing you see on his face is pure, obvious relief as his shoulders relax.

“Thank god.” Reaching for his phone, he unlocks it, tapping and swiping until he’s ready to enter a new contact. “Give me your number, and I’ll–”

You shake your head, interrupting his train of thoughts. The way you smile makes him suddenly uneasy. He thought this was over, but now he’s not so sure. You confirm his fears when you say, “A different way.”

Now Jake just looks exasperated. If you keep up this habit, he’s about to start failing statistics too. Never mind the fact that he got his hopes up for what he is sure will turn out to be a giant pile of nothing. Still, he humors you. “What do you mean, a different way?”

“I mean,” you start, folding your hands across your lap. Jake has the distinct impression that you’re trying your best to be as convincing as possible. If nothing else, it does pique his curiosity. He’s never seen you be anything but annoyed or uninterested. It’s an interesting change of pace.“I have a friend who’s also taking econ right now and hasn’t scored below a 98 on a single assignment.” Jesus, Jake thinks. Must be nice.

And then you drop the bomb on him. “He said he’s more than willing to tutor you. For money, of course.” you specify, moving on so quickly he hardly has the chance to process what you’re saying. “And it’s not like you can’t afford it, but I’ll split the cost with you. For the principle of it all.” There’s a beat of silence as what you’ve just said settles into the air. “Oh,” you add, remembering the most important detail. “And he’ll be discreet. Under the table tutoring, if you will. No chance of word getting back to Daddy Sim.”

You do your best to give him your most trustworthy smile. Jake just stares back at you, mildly horrified.

When he finally speaks again, it’s to say, “... Please, and I mean this with every single bone in my body, please never refer to my father like that again.”

Not even bothering to look sheepish, the only agreement you offer is a mock salute.

Your poor taste in nicknames aside, it does seem like a pretty sweet deal from where Jake is sitting. He cannot fail economics again, and getting a tutor would mean that his brother couldn’t hold his success over his head, couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for it. And a discreet tutor would be even better. Not going through the official university system would mean a much lower chance of his father ever finding out he got some help along the way.

All things considered, and very much to his surprise, Jake is having a hard time seeing any downsides.

He goes through the list again. First, he gets to pass economics. Second, he doesn’t have to deal with his older brother in the process. Third, he gets a tutor that won’t pop up on his father’s radar, and all Jake has to do in return is–

Wait.

“Hold on a minute.” There’s an unmistakable edge of suspicion in Jake’s voice. There’s no way you went out of your way to find him a tutor, to help pay for it, without getting something in return. The wheels in his mind are starting to spin when he asks, “What’s in it for you?”

Next to him, you smile. It’s small, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you almost look nervous. “It’s just a small favor, really.” The expression on your face is not reassuring in the slightest. Still, you insist, “It’ll be easy, I promise. Just a few hours of your time at most.”

Jake knows better than to agree without details. And especially to anything you’re proposing. He’s already preparing to kiss his dreams of passing econ goodbye when he asks slowly,“What is it?”

You sigh, pretenses dropping. If you’re going to convince him now, you might as well do it with honesty. “That annual charity fundraiser event my parents throw. Your parents are usually there, I think. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone?”

Jake shrugs, frowning as he tries to remember. He’s not entirely sure either. After a while, fundraisers and events and family obligations all start to blur together. Although the name does ring a bell, albeit a distant, faint one.

“Anyway,” you continue, “my mother is insistent that I bring a date. Someone she considers appropriate company. You know, runs in the same circles and comes from what she would consider a good family.” Jake nods. He does know exactly what you mean. Picking up on his agreement, you add with a twinge of hopefulness, “Like I said, it would be easy. Especially for you, since you’re used to this kind of stuff. I wouldn’t have to train you–”

That has Jake rolling his eyes. “Let me guess. I get a treat for rolling over?”

The ice in your glare is half hearted. “You know what I mean. There are certain…” You weigh your words carefully. “expectations at these things.” Pausing for a moment, you add, “What I’m trying to say is that I don’t think you’ll eat the soap, even if it’s candy shaped and on a platter.”

If you were trying to clarify your point, you did a terrible job. Jake’s brow pulls downwards in confusion. “Is that supposed to be some kind of metaphor?”

“Unfortunately not.” You shake your head, but don’t explain any further. Sunghoon’s mishaps are not the point of this conversation. A mutually beneficial deal is. Which is why you ask him, “So, what do you say? Are you in or not?”

Is he? Jake says nothing, considering. Mentally, he goes through the list of pros and cons. Pros, he thinks. I get to finally pass econ, and I get to do it without my brother. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, gaze tracking the movement as you nervously bite at your lower lip. Also, I get to show up at an event with the girl he’s been trying to get for weeks now.

He’d be lying if that didn't spark a certain warm feeling in his chest, if it didn’t inspire a sudden bout of preemptive vindication. But there are other things to consider.

Cons, he continues internally. I have to spend an entire evening at an event hosted by your family and make them believe you don’t annoy the ever-loving shit out of me.

Weighing his options, Jake has one more question. “How long would it be?” he asks, and you try to stifle a grin, as if he’s already told you yes.

“The event is technically four hours,” you say carefully, “but I’m sure we could manage to sneak out after a solid two and a half.”

Jake nods, thinking it over a moment longer.

“Okay,” he finally breathes, hoping this isn’t some kind of terrible, elaborate trick, that he isn’t about to sign his life away on a dotted line.

For econ, he thinks. For what’s left of his struggling GPA. He can manage a single night at a mind-numbingly boring high society function. Even if it’s with you. “I’m in.”

And it feels a bit strange, he has to admit, as he watches you type your contact information into his contact list. It feels odd to have your number in his phone with no intention of passing it on. To know that he’s the one who will be using it to confirm the details of this Saturday. To know that his brother will be none the wiser and not at all closer to having any kind of access to you.

And if that strange surge of smugness makes another sudden appearance, well, Jake just figures that no one ever has to know about it.

…

Frowning, you give yourself another once over in the full length mirror that sits next to your vanity. A shimmering, pale gold, the evening gown that flows over your figure was hand-selected by you for this very event. For some reason, you’re having a hard time rediscovering the magic you’d felt trying it on in the showroom here in the soft, ambient light of your bedroom.

Objectively, you’re sure you must look good. The compliments the store attendants had given you were more than just customary, and gold has always been your color. Still, a slew of sudden uncertainties simmer in your gut. Is the slight sparkle too garish? Does the gold wash you out? Your worries feel too big for your bedroom, at too stark an opposition with the peaceful ambience as soft, instrumental music plays from your speaker.

But this particular Saturday evening has its ways of making you feel jumbled where you’d typically be steadfast. Insecure where you’d usually find confidence.

It’s true that your mother has always had a critical eye, and especially where you’re concerned. If you were to search deep enough, however, you’d find that she’s not the person you’re most concerned about making a lasting impression on tonight.

With no small effort, you resist the urge to smooth out invisible wrinkles in the bodice of your dress. A nervous habit more than anything, it’s only exacerbated by the way your phone is still devoid of notifications. The clock on your nightstand is a reminder that your date for the evening should be here any minute, should be sending a message as confirmation of his arrival at your apartment. But your phone is still silent, even as the hour of the fundraiser draws nearer and nearer.

Maybe this was a terrible mistake, you think, a new bout of uncertainties beginning to brew. It shouldn't be a surprise, really. Trust him to be just as flakey as his brother, with absolutely no regard for previous commitments or anyone else’s time. It’s just your luck that you get stood up again, this time by the other Sim.

You're in the middle of disguising your fears and distracting yourself by cursing him and his future bloodline when your phone finally pings with an incoming notification. Well, you think, grabbing your coat, feeling a bit ridiculous for the slight overreaction, you’ll have to look into removing generational curses when you have the time.

For now, you settle with pulling on your heels for the evening, ignoring the way you feel a bit wobbly despite the fact that you’ve walked in far worse. Locking your apartment behind you and striking a slightly unsteady pace towards the elevator down the hall, you whisper a silent plea that tonight isn’t as much of a disaster as you’re afraid it could be.

You watch as the numbers on the elevator screen tick lower and lower, a swirling mix of dread and excitement starting to swim in your stomach. When you finally reach the first floor, you’re surprised to see a familiar face waiting for you in the lobby. Something in you softens, albeit just slightly. You’d incorrectly assumed he would just wait for you in the comfort of his car and spent the whole ride down preparing to awkwardly check license plates in the near dark till you found the right one.

An overwhelming sense of self-consciousness returns to you under the brightness of the lobby lights. Unconsciously, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, wondering how long it will take him to notice you as you begin to walk towards him. You’ve only made it a few steps when it strikes you that he’s already distracted by something else.

Across the lobby, Jake Sim is engaged in a conversation with your doorman. One that looks slightly heated, by your judgment.

As you get closer, their words become more audible.

“Like I just told you,” The exasperation in your date’s voice is apparent. “I’m here to see ___.”

And you really should make your presence known, should step in and divert the brewing argument, especially since you seem to be the subject of it.

But then you look at Jake. Really look at him.

Realistically, you knew he would come well-dressed. That had been a big part of your reason for choosing him. The Sunghoon soap fiasco aside, you already knew Jake Sim wasn’t someone who needed you to put together a PowerPoint presentation on formal event dress code. He didn’t need you to explain the concept of complementary colors or the advantages of getting a suit tailored. Didn’t need you to explain that Converse were not an appropriate show or that no, a bolo tie is not acceptable attire.

Up until now, you were grateful for his pre existing knowledge. It saved you a lot of time and effort that you could use to focus on other things, like getting ready yourself. But it also meant that you were entirely unprepared to see him like this.

Eyes scanning him again, the immaculate fit of his suit is undeniable, as is the way his dark hair is perfectly mussed. It’s styled enough to avoid withering comments from elderly attendees who have the habit of asking how people see with their hair covering their eyes. But it’s also messy in a way that looks intentional, in a way that makes you want to run your fingers through it, tug at it just a little, just to tease.

It’s not just that he’s dressed well, though, despite the fact that he undeniably is.

No, what has you freezing in your footsteps is the fact that Jake looks good.

“And like I just told you, you’re not on her guest list. So I’m sorry, sir.” There is not a single trace of apology in your doorman’s voice. “But I’m afraid I can’t let you up. You’ll have to contact her and ask her to add you to her guest list.” You’re not sure how he manages to do it without losing any professionality, but your doorman makes it very clear that he thinks that will happen just as soon as hell freezes over.

Jake’s shoulders tense in visible frustration. You have to suppress an actual sigh at the way fabric stretches over the muscle there. “Again, I’m not asking you to. Could you please just let her know that I’m here? She’s not answering her messages–”

“How odd.” The sarcasm is unmistakable.

Getting a little desperate, Jake ignores the slight and continues anyway. “And we’re on a bit of a time crunch, so–”

From here, you can see the way his features start to twist in panic. It’s sobering enough to snap you out of your trance.

Cutting in, you make your presence known. “It’s okay,” you tell your doorman first. “I know him.” Then, you turn to Jake, putting on an award-worthy performance of false nonchalance when you explain, “Sorry I didn’t respond to your message. I was just on my way down.”

You watch as some of the tension drains from his features. “That’s alright,” Jake concedes easily. “I just wanted to make sure we weren’t late.”

A funny feeling, a new one, stirs again. Something in you softens. “I appreciate that.”

You can’t help the way you take another look at him. At his suit, his hair, his face. At him, at all of it.

Mistaking your gaze for scrutiny, he asks, a bit self-consciously, “What do you think? Will your mother approve?”

She will. There’s no doubt in your mind. But you’re not looking at him through her eyes when you tell him, “Yeah, you look good. Really good.”

The last part probably wasn’t necessary, but the way he flushes makes it almost worth it. Casting your eyes downward in an effort to hide a smile, you notice a detail that you missed earlier.

Jewelry. Gold jewelry. A handful of rings on his fingers and a delicate bracelet on his left wrist.

Suddenly, his message from last night makes a little more sense.

Jake [9:02 pm]: What color is your dress for tomorrow?

You [9:08 pm]: Gold. Don’t worry about trying to match. A black suit will be just fine.

Now, you’re grateful he didn’t fully listen to you, touched that he even bothered to ask.

Across from you, Jake is suddenly having a bit of a hard time breathing. The earlier near-fiasco with your doorman all but forgotten, you’re still admiring his bracelet as his eyes scan the length of you, throat bobbing by the time his gaze makes its way back up to your face.

“You, uh,” he coughs. “You look nice too.”

“Thank you.” You miss the way his gaze wanders, can’t seem to find a place to land that won’t dust the tops of his cheekbones an even deeper shade of crimson. “I’ve been looking forward to wearing this dress forever.”

And it is a nice dress, Jake thinks, but he’s not sure how to tell you that’s not what he meant.

Eyes finally landing on your feet, or rather, on the stilettos you’re wearing, he frowns. “I had to park kind of far away.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “Why don’t you wait here? I’ll pull the car around front.”

“Okay.” Something in you melts a bit at his consideration, at the fact that he even noticed. “Thank you.”

And it is nice, you think, to not be beginning the evening with your feet already sore. To have someone pick up on the little things, even if he’s being compensated for it in the form of half-price tutoring.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you try not to sigh like a lovesick schoolgirl when he opens the door for you, when he puts his hand on the back of your seat as he reverses the car out of its parking spot. Get it together, you think. You’ve turned up your nose at far more obvious attempts at wooing you, and it’s not like Jake is here with you out of his own volition. The thought is surprisingly disappointing, as he adjusts the stereo, soft music filling the silence.

The drive passes like that, in a quiet that’s only uncomfortable if you look at it too close. Eventually, the soft melodies filtering through the stereo become a pleasant sort of background noise as you watch the world blur outside the window.

It would be smart, probably, to sort out your story for the evening and put together something coherent for when the two of you are inevitably asked invasive questions, but you can’t bring yourself to be the one to disturb the peace.

So when you arrive at the fundraiser a handful of minutes later, you just have to hope that the image the two of you strike together will be enough to stave off any unwanted questions for the time being.

Again, Jake opens your car door for you, offers a steadying hand as you step out of it. And when he gives you his arm as you enter through the front door of the venue, you take it, wrapping your fingers around his elbow. Pausing just outside the entrance, you watch as he takes a deep breath.

“Ready?” You’re not sure if you’re asking him or yourself.

Jake answers for the both of you. “Let’s do this.”

Walking through the lobby, you hand your jackets to the coat check attendant before entering the ballroom where the fundraiser is held. Despite your general distaste for this evening and everything it entails – you sneak a glance at your partner in crime. Well, mostly everything – you can’t help but admire the space around you.

Decorated immaculately down to every last element, your mother truly doesn’t spare any expense or detail when it comes to throwing parties. And like always, she somehow manages to have a sharp eye on everything and everyone, no matter how chaotic or busy. You’ve hardly taken two steps inside the ballroom when she finds you, approaches you will all the grace of a panther stalking its prey.

Pulling you in for a quick hug, the warm greeting she gives you is more for the benefit of onlookers than for you. And it forces you to remove your hand from Jake’s arm.

Looking over your shoulder, her voice is sickeningly saccharine. “And this must be James,” she beams, making eye contact with the wrong brother. Directing her attention to him, she gushes, “My daughter has told me wonderful things about you.”

Your eyebrows raise in disbelief. Jake stifles a laugh, expertly turns it into a cough.

Really? You think. She did all that digging on James’ so-called turtle philanthropy but never bothered to pull up a picture of the guy? And you mean, standard genetic similarities aside, it’s not like the two of them look that much alike.

“Actually, mom,” you spare him the expense of having to correct her mistake, “this is Jake Sim. James’ brother. We go to school together.”

“Oh,” her eyebrows fall at the slip, no doubt an unforgivable social faux pas in her mind. “You never filled out the RSVP form, sweetie,” she somehow makes the term of endearment sound like a curse, “so I wasn’t sure who you’d be bringing.” Trust her to find a way to make her mistake your fault.

Turning back to your date, she tries to remedy her mistake. “Jake, then.” She offers him a smile so forced you’re surprised her cheeks aren’t aching. Looking back at you, she fishes, “And he’s your…?”

Her dangling bait goes untouched. “He’s my plus-one.” It’s an intentional choice of words on your part. In your mind, it’s a neutral enough term that will hopefully let you navigate the evening without too many rumors or invasive questions about your personal life from people you only speak to out of reluctant obligation.

Jake is less used to the way your mother tends to poke and prod, the way she likes to examine the superficial details of your life with a microscope and make sure she can frame them in a way that will be pleasing for public perception. The way she doesn’t ask about your love life because it’s of any genuine interest to her, but because she wants sole control of the rumor mill’s production.

Next to you, he stiffens, feels as though he’s already failed some kind of test he didn’t know he was taking, wasn’t given any materials to study for.

There’s a lot to be said, probably, about the way you pick up on his discomfort so easily. The way your hand returns to the crook of his elbow wordlessly and gives a single, gentle squeeze. Reassuring him, putting his nerves at ease, as you begin to navigate your way out of this conversation.

“We’d better find our seats,” you tell your mother. The only reason Jake can identify the icy edge hiding in the superficial sweetness of your voice is because he’s been on the receiving end of it. On multiple occasions. Directed at someone else, he finds it almost amusing. “Wouldn't want to miss anything.”

“Of course,” your mother concedes, but there’s an undertone there. Jake can tell that there’s a war being waged here, battles and skirmishes in subtext and stilted pauses. He’s no stranger to the way high society likes to wrap up insults in niceties and skirt around delicate topics, but his own family has never been anything but blunt when it comes to their distaste for him and his choices.

He’s still not entirely sure what he just witnessed, but you’re dragging him by his arm to find your assigned table before he can sort through the offending slights and put on armor that may be of any use to you.

Carefully arranged, the maze of tables is easy enough to navigate. Each seat has a white place card in front of it, embossed with a shimmery golden script that matches your dress and holds the name of the guest who’s been assigned to sit there.

You drag Jake past a flurry of names and attendees he half recognizes, stopping only to grab two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter, handing one to Jake before you continue on your mission. After another minute of searching, you find your name at a table a few rows out from the far wall. Rolling your eyes, you can practically hear your mother’s reasoning: Not too close to the wall. Wouldn’t want people thinking I’m trying to hide her. But certainly not anywhere near the center of the room, in case she falls into that pesky habit of being an awful embarrassment.

Standing behind your chair, your eyes find the place card stationed in front of the seat next to yours at the same time Jake’s do.

“Oh my god.” The exasperation is apparent, even though your words are barely audible where you mutter them under your breath.

Because of course this hasn’t already been enough of a train wreck. Because of course the place card next to yours doesn’t have Jake’s name on it. Nope, embossed in the same shimmery gold is the name of another person entirely.

James Sim.

You turn to your date, apologetic. “God, I’m sorry. I really didn’t fill out the RSVP form, but I didn’t think she’d just assume…”

“It’s okay.” Jake gives you some grace. “Really, it wouldn’t be the first time.” And all things considered, he kind of is in his brother’s seat tonight. Attending an event that’s better suited for the future head of the company than his forgotten younger brother. Accompanying the girl that public opinion surely dictates would be a better match for him.

Still, you frown. Reaching for the small clutch that sits against your hip, you rummage for a moment before pulling out a black permanent marker.

Jake glances at you sideways.Your bag of the evening is tiny, barely even big enough to hold your phone. He’s surprised you managed to fit the marker in there, much less prioritize it enough to bring it with you. “You carry that thing around with you all the time?”

You shrug. “Never know when you’ll need to do some DIY vandalism.”

It would be a lie if he said something in him doesn’t soften, just a bit, when he watches you reach for the place card in front of his seat and put a giant, bold X over his brother’s name.

Your handwriting is no match for the computer-generated script, but Jake still likes the place card a little better when you’re done with it, likes the way his name looks next to yours when you set it back on the table, alterations completed.

“There,” you say, looking entirely too satisfied with your handiwork. “All better.” This time, you slide down into your seat before Jake has the chance to pull it out for you. Turning to him as he tentatively takes the seat next to you, he finds a small frown on your lips. “Wait,” you pause, realization written across your features. “Your brother isn’t coming, right?”

Jake shakes his head. “I mean, I don’t know for sure, but I doubt it. He has no reason to come. My parents are on a business trip, so they won’t be here either. And that also probably means he’s more swamped than usual at the office.”

Nodding, you take a sip of champagne. “Good.” Pausing, your lips quirk. “Although it would be kind of funny if he–”

“I think you’re in my seat.” The sudden interruption is flat, leaves no room for arguments.

Startled, the two of you spin in your chairs.

James Sim, despite his brother’s predictions, is in fact not otherwise occupied at his office. Instead, he stands directly behind his younger sibling, strikes an imposing figure where his shadow blocks the chandelier light behind him and extends over his brother and his altered place card.

Eyes flaming, he looks at where his name has been crossed out. Replaced.

Next to Jake, you remain silent, figure that you’ll let Jake handle this one the way he let you handle your mother. Far be it from you to step in on a family matter.

But then you notice the way Jake shrinks a little in his seat, hides a little further in his brother’s shadow. Reaches for the place card like he wishes he could take it back.

Sliding your gaze back to your least favorite Sim sibling, your voice is even, albeit icy, when you point out the obvious, “It’s not actually. Can’t you read?” Jake’s hand stops in its tracks, falls back to his lap.

A quick look your way is the only indication James even hears you. Instead, he continues his one-sided conversation with his brother, a barely controlled sort of fury crossing over his expression. “Hm,” he muses, glancing between the two of you. “Sure seems like you two are awfully close.” Casting an accusatory glare at Jake, he adds, “That’s funny. I could have sworn you said you barely knew her.”

Her. You’re sitting right there, and you don’t even get a name.

It doesn’t go unnoticed by Jake either. And it turns out to be just what he needs to find his voice. You’re almost proud of the sarcasm he manages to muster when he counters, “Yeah, well, this funny thing happens when you spend time together. You actually get to know each other.” Straightening his spine, there’s an unmistakable edge in his voice when he adds, “You know, when you actually bother to show up, that is.”

You hide a laugh behind your hand, albeit not very well. Glancing at Jake, a feeling swells in your chest that you can only identify as pride. You didn’t know he had it in him.

Reassessing his strategy, James turns to you, forcing a nonchalance that is entirely contradicted by the way his cheeks are rapidly reddening. “Actually, ___,” he tries, acting as if the last thirty seconds faded out of existence at his will. “I was hoping to speak to you about something. I’d love to get you a drink if you–”

“Actually,” Jake cuts in, doubling down. “We already have drinks.” Behind you on the table, the two near full glasses of champagne are undeniable evidence. The laugh that spills out of you this time is impossible to hide. Yeah, you decide, between the two of them, you definitely hate James more. Entirely amused, the only thing you wish you had is a bowl of popcorn as you root for the underdog. Not that he needs it. Much to your satisfaction, he’s been landing his punches well.

The giggle dies on your lips, though, when you feel the warmth of another hand suddenly cover the top of yours where it rests on your thigh. Gaze flaming, James follows the movement. Startled, your eyes fly to Jake. The only view you’re offered is of his profile as he keeps his gaze trained on his brother, the challenge in his features unmistakable.

The only consolation he offers for your sudden shock is a small, reassuring squeeze against your knuckles.

And then he says, “And I’d like to keep my girlfriend right here, actually.” At that, he does finally turn to you, eyes pleading, gaze imploring when he seeks your permission. Even though they’re performative in nature, his words aren’t solely for James’ benefit. “If that’s alright with you, that is.”

Girlfriend.

You were perfectly happy in the role of the observer, but now Jake has dragged you into the spotlight. Even though it pains you, you know you can’t leave him hanging. Not when that would mean a sure victory for his dickhead of a brother.

Girlfriend. The word echoes in your head, has you feeling dizzy.

“Of course,” you return hollowly, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice over the sudden rushing in your ears. “Boyfriend.”

When you smile at him, you make sure it looks sickeningly sweet enough to deter James. Your eyes, however, flash with a warning only Jake can read.

“You’re dating?” James can’t hide his shock, and his outrage is just as obvious.

“Yep,” Jake passes you a panicked look. But you don’t need it, don’t need his convincing. You’ve already dug yourself a deep enough hole. Trying to climb out now would only mean everything crumbles.

“Sure are,” you confirm with a tight smile. Turning back to Jake, you add, “Actually, sweetie, I need to talk to you about, uh…” you scramble for a moment. Finish vaguely with, “that thing.”

“Right.” Jake picks up on the threat in your eyes seamlessly, knows there’s only one acceptable response. “That thing,” he echoes.

“Yeah, so,” you turn back to James, barely acknowledging him as you start to stand. “We’re gonna step out for a minute.”

Jake is all but putty in your hands as you switch the positioning of your grip so that the hand that was resting on yours is now encased firmly between your fingers.

“See you later,” are Jake’s breathless parting words to his brother.

“Hopefully not, though,” you alter.

And then you’re dragging him back through the crowd towards the exit, and it’s all Jake can do to not run into the other guests or knock over the delicately balanced trays of hors d’oeuvres waiters carry throughout the room. He’s at your mercy all the way through the double doors of the ballroom, and you pause only briefly to determine which hallway is less likely to have people in it before deciding on the one to the right, towing him along behind you.

Once you’re far enough away from unwanted eyes and ears, you start wiggling every door knob you come across, growing visibly more frustrated until you finally find an unlocked one. Huffing, you push Jake into the spare storage closet first. Following him in, you close the door behind you.

The sudden change in space puts you in close proximity. Your nose is only a handful of inches away from his when you start laying out accusations.

“What the hell?” With the same hand than just dragged him on a half marathon, you shove at his chest. “Boyfriend?” You have half a mind to grab the broom standing next to you and start whacking him with it.

“I’m sorry!” Jake holds his hands up defensively. He doesn’t miss the way you’re eyeing every cleaning tool around you, no doubt deciding which would make the most effective weapon. “I panicked, okay? I just hate that smug little look he gets on his face–”

“Well you’re about to be seeing ‘that smug little look’ a lot more once he calls your bluff!” you half-shout, trying to convey your anger without alerting anyone to your presence.“The timeline barely lines up to begin with. It’s only been what, a few weeks since I was supposed to go on a date with him? And that’s not to mention the fact that there won’t be anyone to corroborate our story, because we don’t spend any time together, since, y’know, we’re not dating.”

Jake begs to differ. You’ve invaded more than one of his Wednesday night statistics study sessions.

But before he can point this out, you’re continuing. “Which means you’re gonna have to come up with some sort of believable explanation for why we break up after, like, three days.”

“Ugh.” Jake drags an open palm down his face. He hates to admit it, but you do have a point there.

Fingers running through his hair, his sudden stress is apparent. And you’re not trying to send him to an early grave, but would it have killed him to think before he spoke? Consider the consequences of starting the exact kind of rumor you’ve been hoping to dodge all evening? You get that his brother is not exactly an easy person to get along with, but was the short-lived victory really worth the potential fallout?

Across from you, Jake seems to be having the same realizations. A million thoughts whirring through his brain, he’s not sure where to place his focus.

After a moment, he settles on optimism. “Look, I think it will be fine.” The more he thinks about it, the more he convinces himself he believes it. “James has been up to his ass in company stuff since the second he graduated, so it’s not like he has extra time to check up on us or anything.” And even if he did, James would have no way of knowing who to ask. Jake has the sneaking suspicion his older brother couldn’t name a single one of his friends if his life depended on it. He would have no idea who to track down to corroborate your so-called romance.

“We won’t have to do anything,” Jake reasons. “I’ll just mention you in passing for the next few weeks if he happens to ask.” Even that should be simple enough. After all, Jake seriously doubts he will. “And by the time the holidays roll around, I can just say things fizzled naturally.” Easy. Simple. Uncomplicated. Mutual, and your pride and his both remain intact. “No big deal.”

Across from him, you weigh his words. It makes sense, yes, but there’s something starting to swirl in your gut that you don’t like. It feels a little too much like dread, like trepidation. Jake can read all of the uncertainty written across your face when you tell him, “I still don’t like it. My mother and your brother were both here tonight and already got different stories from us. This could get messy really quickly. I mean, what if our families start talking–”

“They won’t.” Jake shakes his head. “Your mom thinks I’m just a plus-one, and when my name comes up in James and my father’s conversations, it isn’t to discuss the ins and outs of my dating life.” Of this, at least, Jake is sure. His father couldn’t care less who he dates, as long as it’s not a liability to him, to the company. “Besides, we're university students.” Jake tries to lighten the mood, clear some of the tension. “Twenty-one and immature and all that.” For a moment, Jake imagines what life would feel like if that’s truly all he was, if that’s the only thing he got to be. No added pressure of a notorious last name and a reputation to maintain. Tucking that thought to the back of his mind, he decides he’ll mourn it later. “A short-lived relationship with a story that doesn’t quite add up is practically a right of passage. Not something to be suspicious of.”

You remain silent for a moment, but your hand doesn’t get any closer to the broom.

“Okay.” Some of the tension seeps out of your shoulders as you turn his reasoning over in your brain, nodding as his logic starts to piece together. “Okay,” you reiterate. You still don’t like it, but he’s right about one thing: it is the best option you have.

After all, there’s no way in hell you’re about to go tell your mother that your plus-one is actually your secret boyfriend, and you hate to admit it, but James’ little smirk is incredibly agitating. And it will all blow over, you’re sure. Like Jake said, James and your mother have no real reason to talk, and if Jake is convinced that his brother won’t be spreading this particular rumor, you’ll just have to believe him for the time being.

Letting him out of the closet first, you only imitate hitting him upside the back of the head once before you catch up to him, linking arms again before reentering the ballroom.

As the evening goes on, your worry starts to subside. Thankfully, every other part of the night goes perfectly to plan, even if you do have to force yourself to laugh a little too hard at one of Jake’s awful jokes when you catch James watching the two of you. The second glass of champagne you down helps, if nothing else.

Exactly as you predicted, after two and a half hours have passed, you and Jake are sneaking out the back exit, tiptoeing to his car as the fourth speaker of the evening continues their droning speech inside the event. Your mother is none the wiser to your early departure, and you hope it’s the first in a series of victories for the evening.

When Jake drops you off just outside the front doors of your apartment building, his smile is almost reassuring enough to put that lingering sense of unease to rest where it still sits in your gut.

Makeup removed, hair washed, and evening gown traded for pajamas, sleep is slow to find you a handful of hours later. Eventually, though, it does, and your rest is undisturbed, dreamless.

…

The next morning, with nothing but the pastel tones of sunrise and the sound of his brewing coffee maker to keep him company, Jake Sim stares at the message on his phone in abject horror.

Mom [7:32 am]: I can’t believe I had to find out from your brother! Family dinner next weekend at our place. Bring your girlfriend. :)

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

PART TWO IS UP AND LINKED ON MY MASTERLIST!

note: thank you for reading!! this is the version I had saved in my docs and it should be identical to what was posted before but in case there are any slight differences, that's why. I also sometimes make the fatal mistake of doing small grammatical edits in tumblr itself, so please excuse any minor errors as I didn't do a read through this time around. as always, I love to hear any thoughts you may have!

#enhypen fanfiction #jake fanfiction #enhypen jake #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #jake sim #jake fanfic #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #jake imagines #jake scenarios #jake x you #enhypen x you #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff

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weird-addiction · 6 months ago

Note

Hai! It's me again. I read one and the same and I was FLOORED!! Could you do a part two when they're both grown up and it's the dinner scene (you know the one). I love to see what you put together ❤️

~snake anon 🐍

One in the Same Part 2

Pairing: Platonic!Aemond Targaryen x Male!Twin!Targaryen!Reader

Genre: Neutral

Warnings: The dinner scene from Ep 8, calling others bastards, mentions of missing eyes, some book canon, typical violence

A/N: sorry it has been so long ಥ_ಥ I wrote this a while back but forgot to post. Here it is now. Happy Season 2!

It has been 16 years since the days that the single-eyed princes had claimed their dragons and had made it known to the people of Westeros now that they were the greatest threat to the realm, using that fear to make sure that no one else crossed them ever again.

Now, the rightful queen had come back to defend her son’s claim to Driftmark. Aemond and Y/n were out in the training yard when they arrived. Aemond was busy sparring with Ser Criston, Y/n was the one that spotted them both. And from the looks of it, they saw him as well, however, there was almost immediate fear in their eyes.

No one in Westeros could deny that it was uneasy to look at the two single-eyed princes, especially the younger of the two. As the younger, he would lash out more easily as he took the pleasure of seeing other cower in fear in front of him. Even their own elder brother Aegon could say the same about him. As Y/n was normally the one to slap him awake when he got blackout drunk.

Within the throne room of the Red Keep, both sides of the family stood on opposite sides of the room, the separation was obvious to anyone who had sense. Everyone but the king that was.

Vaemond and Viserys were having a stand off at the moment as they argued over who should get the claim to Driftmark. Vaemond eventually had enough as he turned to Rhaenyra and her family, he yelled loudly as he spoke of his disgust that her sons were not his nephews.

“Her children…are BASTARDS!” He yelled, his body language telling that this was all genuine and none of it was fake.

“And she is…a whore.” He was smiling at the end of his sentence, like he knew he had nothing left to lose.

“I mean…we don’t really know, do we? Princess Rhaenys has black hair soo…” Y/n whispers to his twin, Aemond leaned over smiling as he responded.

“But it is still a possibility isn’t it?” Aemond ruled out, to which his twin nodded.

They turned back to the drama at hand, and as of the same second, Daemon had cut off the top half of Vaemond’s head; just above where his tongue was.

Aemond had gone into a defensive stance as almost to shield his twin, Y/n was holding Helaena in his arms as she had her hands over her ears. He rubbed her back slowly, offering what comfort he could in that moment.

The trial was soon over and nightfall came fast, and by the king’s request, both sides of the family were to have supper together. Aemond and Y/n were both quite hesitant to attend, as they were known to start conflicts even if slightly offended or pissed off. Before their father had arrived, the three sons stood off to the side as they had a random conversation. More or so it was Aegon telling them both to drink more.

“You both do not drink enough.” Aegon says.

“You drink more than a Braavosi seahorse.” Aemond retorts. His twin let out a laugh.

“I drink just the right amount.” Aegon responds, one could even hear the eye roll on his voice.

“Right. Tell me that next time when I have to dump cold water on your head to wake you up.” Y/n says, amused by the eldest.

“You just have a high tolerance. The most you have downed is three cups.”

“Don’t compare me to you, brother. At least tonight, you have a reason to get drunk. It seems we all do.” Y/n looked back to the long dinner table, their mother and half-sister were not talking. Tensions were already rising and the dinner had not even started.

“The noose is tied and they expect us to break bread.” Aemond says, to which, Y/n had to hold onto his arm to calm him down a bit.

“You can fight later. At least, when they offend you. Have a reason at least.” Y/n spoke, clearly also having thoughts of needing to let off some steam.

The dinner soon started and for the first while, everything was fine at the beginning as the music made it so the atmosphere was less tense. Everyone was at ease and talking with a smile on their face.

Aemond sat at one end of the table, Y/n was to his right, sitting just next to Helaena. They were exchanging words every once in a while as the younger twin was speaking with his sister, Jace would also occasionally jump in the conversation. In which, Y/n was happy that he did…in his way.

Y/n actually had food on his plate that he was eating, his twin however, was just sitting there. Plus, Aemond was sitting sideways and only looking at his younger twin only, and he sat incredibly still; like a statue he was. Y/n ignored it as he continued to eat, and talking with his sister of course. This was only a matter of moments before the dinner went wrong.

A cooked pig was placed down right in front of Aemond, Y/n gave him a side glance that basically told him “I know what you are thinking” from his eye. Aemond tipped his head downwards for a second as to almost not acknowledge it, but then he looked to the person across the table from him.

Lucerys had a smile on his face, and in this case, well, it was almost enough to set Aemond off; he was just hiding it quite well. Aemond knew, he turned his head just enough to see Luke from across the table, and the moment he turned his nephew let out a laugh.

Which, Aemond took immediate offense to.

Slamming his fist down onto the table, loud enough that the entire room quieted down and looked at him. He reached for his goblet and stood up, his figure now probably towering over his nephews at this rate. The look in his remaining eye was dilated to some degree to make it show that he was wanting to go after his nephews for a while now.

“A final tribute. To the health of my nephews. Jace. Luke. And Joffery.” He took a breath.

Aegon and Y/n both saw this and raised their cups as well, Aegon just looked like he wanted something interesting to happen. Y/n was just wanting to have some fun, in the “beating someone for no reason” kind of way.

“Each of them, handsome, wise…” Y/n looked to his twin, giving him the nod of approval. Aemond smirked slightly as he said the final word.

“Strong.”

“Aemond.” Alicent said in a hurry, almost wanting him to stop.

“Let us drain our cups, to these three strong boys.” Aemond turned to Jace, still holding his cup. Y/n also stood up, following in his twin’s steps.

“I dare you say that again.” Jace challenged.

“Why. Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself strong?” Aemond challenged back.

This is when things got heated. Aemond and Jace approached each other, Jace, when he was close enough to his uncle, punched him right in the face with his closed fist. But Aemond barely had a reaction to this. Luke on the other hand was pinned to the table by Aegon, Y/n watched from behind his twin as he was just amused from all of this.

When Aemond recovered from his hit, he pushed Jace down to the ground with ease. Y/n then walked over and stood in front of his twin, as he saw their uncle Daemon moving closer to them. Y/n knew his twin had a weird fascination with their uncle, often in their youth he would find Aemond ranting to him on how he wanted to be just like him. But now, Y/n knew he could not underestimate Daemon as he was known as “The Rogue Prince” for a reason.

Alicent pulled Aemond aside as she began to lecture him. Though, he pulled his arm away as he walked back to where he was.

“I was merely expressing how proud I was of my family, mother. Hmm. But it seems our nephews aren’t quite as proud of theirs.” Aemond stood next to Y/n, urging him to add in on it. And indeed he did.

“It seems our nephews have much to learn. Being proud of their heritage may be a good start.” Y/n added, he just wanted to see what would happen.

Jace was about to pounce like an animal onto his uncles, but Daemon stepped in and that was enough to get him to back off. Daemon then turned to look at his two nephews who held his gaze with competition. Aemond spared his twin a glance before the two agreed indirectly and left the dining hall.

As they walked off, the younger of the two let out a laugh. In which, Aemond, of course heard clearly. “What is so funny.”

“You are becoming worse than me. One day, your temper and actions will get us in big trouble.” Y/n remarked.

“Then we shall see what the future may bring us when that happens, won’t we.”

“Aemond. By the hells, please don’t actually do something you’ll regret. I do not want to pick up the pieces.”

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accio-bagel · 4 months ago

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Coming in hot with a Natty appreciation post ❤️

Wall of text below the cut

I love Natty. She's my brave, frustrating, badass girl, and while the writing for her storyline lacked somewhat in comparison to the other companions, much of the discourse I see around her is so negative - it has really been disappointing to see the kinds of things people say about her. She doesn't have to be your favorite. I'm not saying you have to love her. But you can actually prefer Sebastian and Poppy without disparaging Natsai. You can also critique her without resorting to making fun of her voice or accent. Give her a chance and consider her dialogue and her actions, and you might gain some more appreciation for her.

She is a peak Gryffindor and here are some reasons why I love her, including her flaws:

Friendly, kind, and empathetic: with her experience being the new student the previous year, she knows how scary it can be and she's quick to offer you a place to sit on your first day of class, then readily shares her book with you when she sees you don't have one. She even gives you advice during Summoners Court when you're playing against her, and isn't upset if you win. She tells you she was actually planning on asking you to Hogsmeade with her if you choose her as your guide. She wants you to feel welcomed right away and wants to get to know you.

Brave, powerful, and reckless: just like Sebastian, she jumps in to help you fight a troll without a second thought on her first day knowing you, and she's a strong duelist both in Crossed Wands and on your missions with her. She is ready and willing to gather evidence on her own while you go save a host of beasts from poachers the second she finds out a Hippogriff that means something to you is in danger. She sticks her nose into business she shouldn’t and doesn’t consider the reality of the dangers she’s getting herself into (a very Harry Potter trait.) But would you really rather have her be without flaw? Sounds boring. Ultimately she doesn’t ever let fear stop her from acting to protect others - don't forget she dives in front of the Cruciatus curse for you! She's a damn good friend to have by your side.

Proud and confident but can still be humble and open to change: she is happy to share some interesting information about Uagadou if you choose to ask her and she has pride in both her magical abilities and where she came from. She's confident in Summoner's Court but acknowledges afterward that it took her a while to gain that skill. She also admits she likes the drama of using a wand and she's grown to appreciate Hogwarts and Scotland (except in winter, which who can blame her? it's cold!)

Talented: to name just a few examples, she can cast wandless magic, Weasley calls her out as one of the best students in school, and let's not forget she's an animagus by age 15 - we know from the Harry Potter books that is no small feat and very few people actually achieve the ability.

Strong morals and ideals, stubbornly so: she is a pure heart and wants to take down the bad guys so nobody has to suffer the same way she did as a young girl. Can you really begrudge her youthful idealism? While her motivations are a bit muddy because she has no solid personal connection to Harlow or Rookwood, she is ultimately looking at the bigger picture and striving to make the world a better, safer place. Like Sebastian and Poppy, she won't let anyone talk her out of her ideals and remains undeterred in her belief that what she's doing is right, regardless of the dangers involved. While it shouldn't be up to two teenagers to clear out a criminal organization, in the end, she and you actually do get Harlow arrested finally, no thanks to the utterly useless Officer Singer, so Natty kinda had a point.

Loving and emotional: she is emotionally open with you and isn't afraid to ask for support from a friend while she's suffering from grief and guilt about her father. She isn’t embarrassed to tell you that you’ve inspired her to stand up to power, or how much your friendship means to her. Despite her frustrations, she loves her mother deeply, and she misses her father with all her heart.

Rebellious and independent: similar to Garreth, she has a guardian whom she feels is suffocating her. She wants to roam freely in her animagus form and explore her new home on her own, but her mother is worried about her safety (fair) and the closer Professor Onai clings, the more it pushes Natty to act out. She wants to challenge the system which is allowing Rookwood to strut around Hogsmeade like he owns the place when he should be in prison, and takes matters into her own hands when the authorities fail to act. Nothing more punk and badass than fighting the man and getting shit done.

Pretty, cute, tall: really, seriously look at her! Big Brown EyesTM and lashes for days. Freckles! Need I go on? (I will anyway.) Her profile. That cute little curl in the front of her hair, and from the back her hairstyle looks like a flower. I also recently noticed she is slightly taller than the female MC (tall girls need more love in media) and I can imagine them and Poppy being a cute witch trio of different heights. I also think her awkward smiles are endearing.

Lovely, soothing voice: I find her voice to be very soft and personally, I could listen to her talk all day. Her VA, Jessica Hayles, put so much emotion into her lines, and did you know she also voices three other characters: Nellie Oggspire, Charlotte Morrison, and Hyacinth Olivier? I have huge respect for a VA who can do multiple accents and change their voice to be so distinct for each character that I would've had no idea if I hadn't looked it up.

If anyone actually read all of this just know that I appreciate you deeply

#this has been my ted talk #natty appreciation #natty onai #natsai onai #hogwarts legacy natty #strong female character #natty onai screenshots #hogwarts legacy screenshots #hogwarts legacy photo mode #accio natty #my screenshots

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chimivx · 5 months ago

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That one fucked you over last year, this one is fucking you over this year, you had no idea she was involved with him, someone over here has been lying to you, you didn't mean to end up in that ones bed, he told you he loved you... Does anyone even trust anyone anymore?

👫 -> college!teez x fem!reader/oc {frat/sorority} #️⃣ -> 7.5k (part FIVE of ten) ‼️ -> 18+, sexual content, drugs/alcohol, college life, all the drama, heavy angst, infidelity adjacent moments, mean boys, mean girls, mentions of anxiety/depression… IF I MISSED ANYTHING PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

{ there are names & faces in here that come from NMWID <3 }

september 14th ~ saturday ~ 12:02 p.m.

[you]: i’m sorry i left so fast i didn’t mean to run

[you]: i just woke up can we talk

september 14th ~ saturday ~ 4:57 p.m.

[you]: hey just checking in, are you okay

september 15th ~ sunday ~ 10:17 p.m

A book has lived on your lap for two days now. Since you woke up Saturday late morning after your night at ATZ, you’ve been situated in the center of your bed getting a head start on assignments, setting your planner up for the semester, making sure everything was in absolute order. This was the most important part of being here.

Not the boys, not the parties, not the sisterhood drama… The grades.

Nasara offered you a spectacular scholarship because you were actually pretty booksmart. And thank god for it too, you knew your dad would never be able to send you here on his own. He had money to spend, but it didn’t necessarily go to you without a good motive.

The grades had to stick. The grades had to be almost perfect.

Or, you weren’t getting that degree.

Being in a sorority without a doubt took a toll on your wallet, and your fathers. When there were fundraisers you were working your ass off to make sure you raised enough money to both keep the place going as well as hand some of it over to the charity you were doing it for. That’s partially why coming into this year has been so nerve wracking. There were nine of you in the house. You were not prepared to see the cost come the beginning of next month.

Your dad paid for September. He took a couple jobs and was able to give it to you in full. The rest of the year was up to you. Not one part of you wanted to have to ask him for help. You were capable. You were able to do it. The rest of these girls had money, they had the fame… You’d been hustling for two years, you could make it two more.

There was always the option to move into the dorms, or better yet, move into an apartment off campus somewhere in Delo which sparked your fancy. The only issue is there would be no one to take with you, and the only acceptable way to go about it would be to do it with a roommate. Tori was off the table, she was obsessed with the ITZ house, plus it was a couple minutes away from her boyfriend. Why would she ever want to move further from that?

Flipping a page in your notebook, the door to your bedroom swung open and a flustered Tori stormed in, her brows scrunched, her eyes pointed to the floor. She bounced about the room, tossing her blankets around, dropping to her knees to file through her things under her bed, jumping to her feet to scour her drawers.

A sleepy eyed Yuna popped her head in the doorway looking equally as stressed as your roommate. “Hey, Ror,” she mumbled, her eyes darting around the floor and the shelves. “Tor, I don’t think you brought it in here.”

“Hey,” you said to her. “What are you looking for?” Focusing on Tori, you closed your notebook. The two of you haven’t discussed Friday night. Nothing’s been unpacked. She’s been busy with sorority things and hanging out with Mina and Yuna.

It sometimes fell that way this time of year, at least it did your sophomore year. The three of them were on the board, they were more important than you and your other friends. Though, last year it was only Tori and Yuna taking some time to themselves, overwhelmed by the sudden responsibility. Now she was in on it.

“My ITZ planner,” Tori sighed, her vision tunneled on her surroundings, speaking hushed, but with power. “I had it at the meeting on Friday, I left it in the house, it didn’t come out with me. That has stuff in it that Yeji didn’t write down, if I don’t find it…”

“You’ll find it,” Yuna nodded. “I’ll go check out my room just in case I grabbed it, then I’ll check Yeji’s desk.” She was gone in a flash.

Tori drug a hand through her waves, her hair falling naturally down her back. With no makeup on, her tan skin still had the ability to glow. “Ror,” she muttered, spinning around in a circle to face you. Meeting her eyes, you tried to smile, but it didn’t come through as such. She was so frustrated anyhow, she probably didn't even notice. “Can I check your stuff?”

Hesitating, you shrugged. “You think I took it?”

Tori groaned, her hands digging through her hair once more. “God, no,” she said. “Just in case, I don’t think you took anything, I just have to check everywhere…” Her hands started flying, her brown eyes manic and panicked.

“Okay, okay,” you said, waving her along with a hand toward your bed and your things below it. “Whatever you gotta do, go for it.” She dropped to the floor and you turned back to your book, opening your notebook to copy down notes from your classes this past week.

Tori pulled baskets of clothes out, rifling through them, then she moved on when she didn’t find what she was looking for. Searching through some extra bags you had stored under there, she moved through every bin, every basket, every bag. Nothing. Then, she moved to the other side where you had more recent things shoved without any rhyme or reason. Shoes you’ve worn recently, your textbooks for class, the bag you’d use for classes- she opened that and searched through it.

She popped her head up, looking at you, you could feel it. Turning your head slowly, you found her confused.

“What?” you asked.

“Ror,” she said quietly, holding up an opened light purple package with words on the front that made you want to be sick. She was shocked, her lips parted ever so slightly. “Is this yours?”

Swallowing hard, feeling your stomach in your throat, you couldn’t lie your way out of this one. “I… Yeah, guess I forgot to throw that out.”

Tori flipped it toward her to read it, then she shot you another crazed look. “Why the fuck did you take a Plan B?”

Hm, now this was interesting.

You could lie.

But, at this point now there was no sense in lying.

“Seonghwa?” she whispered.

Yep, no reason to lie.

“Seonghwa,” you breathed, and she leapt to her feet, the box flying from her fingers onto the floor. She jumped onto your bed, the mattress moving beneath you.

“Aurora, what?” She almost gasped. Her knees bumped into yours as she tucked her knees up on the blankets. “When, what?”

You closed your book for good, setting it aside. Taking a breath, you looked up at her and cringed. “Last Friday?”

“Last Friday!” she shouted. Shushing her, she clamped her hands over her mouth at the same time. “I’m not sorry, what the fuck?! That’s why we lost you? You were upstairs with Seonghwa?”

“I was,” you whispered, glancing down at your lap. “We were both drunk, it happened, like, so fast.”

Tori snapped her jaw shut and sat up straight. The way she looked at you made you feel about sixteen years old. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Leaning back, you shrugged, then grabbed onto your ankles and sighed. “You got Mina,” you whispered, and she squinted.

“What?”

You cleared your throat. “You got Mi-”

Tori slapped a hand to your wrist. “No, yeah, I heard you, Ror,” she scoffed. “I mean, what?” She leaned into you, dipping her chin down to meet your eyes. After another shrug as answer from you, she shook her head and laughed. “No, no, unacceptable. I won’t take that. What do you mean that’s why you didn’t tell me you fucked Seonghwa?”

“Don’t say it,” you sneered, eyeing your open bedroom door. Tori flipped her hair back and let another laugh of disbelief. “I didn’t tell you ‘cause you’ve been so close with her, and clearly you’ve told her plenty about me. This isn’t a big deal, I didn’t want it to become a thing.”

She rolled her eyes and settled her hands into her own lap. “Fine, you’re right, I told her too much.”

“Thank you,” you said within a breath, blinking away the obnoxiousity.

“It wasn’t right,” Tori reached a hand toward you, one you took, “I’m sorry. You’re my friend first, my best friend. I shouldn’t have said what I said. She should’ve found it all out naturally.”

Squeezing her hand, you tightened your lips. “She shouldn’t have found out about it at all.”

Tori raised a brow every so slightly, the one with the piercing in it. “Do you like Mina?” Your nervous system sparked fight or flight, but in a way that made you groan aloud and half out yourself when you wanted to keep all feelings about it inside. “Wait, what’s happened, I thought everything was chill, we were helping her get Yunho, and taking her to the parties, breaking her out…”

“Yeah,” you said. “Helping her with all that.” Letting yourself collect your thoughts, Tori waiting patiently, you really didn’t know what to say.

For starters, you haven’t spoken to Yunho since you left his house Friday night. Acquiring your phone from Seonghwa after fleeing the boys bedroom, you walked home, teetering to the side most of the way. Getting yourself up onto your balcony, sloppily, you fell onto your bed and rolled off of it, putting yourself together for bed before Tori made it back into the house.

She appeared later on. The girls told you they came in Ryujin and Isla’s window instead, not wanting to disturb you if you were asleep. Which you were.

None of them know you were there two nights ago.

“Mina’s… Alright,” you said, shrugging. “I like that she’s getting more comfortable, I want her to be comfortable… I hate what I said at dinner, no one deserves that, especially where she is in life, that’s nothing to be ashamed about.” Looking at Tori, both of your lips were pouted. They started to turn into smiles, then eventually giggles.

“Don’t ever not tell me things again,” Tori said through her grin. “Okay?”

Nodding, calming your smile, you said, “Okay.”

Lying straight to her face.

“Now,” she said, scooting closer to you if it were possible. She wanted to occupy the same space. “Tell me everything, I need to know, you slept with the Vice President of ATZ… Is it true?”

You tilted your head. “Is what true?”

Tori made a face, jutting her chin forward like she couldn’t believe you didn’t get it. “The… the thing. Did he…”

Waiting for her to finish, she didn’t. “Tori, the what?”

“He didn’t do it? I guess not if I haven’t seen it.” She dropped her eyes to your neck and you immediately slapped your hand there, your eyes going wide. “He did.” She grabbed onto your elbows and shook you. “Aurora, you have to go to the Sweethearts Formal with him.”

“What? Why?” You’d much rather go with someone else. Shaking your head you pulled the collar of your sweatshirt down and showed her the dulling spot on the base of your neck. Tori started to smile.

“A little birdie told me that he does that,” she said, her voice suddenly acquiring the ability to quiet down.

“Mingi,” you said, flat as ever.

“Course,” she said without a beat. “But, here’s the kicker, Ror. This means no one else can touch you. Did anyone see you with it? I can’t believe I didn’t notice, I think I was so worried about Mina.”

Dropping your hands to your lap, you took a slow breath and let your eyes shut for a few seconds. “Tori, what do you mean? That no one else can touch me?”

She sat up and glanced toward the open door, then back to you. Whispering, she said, “You’re his. He’s, like, claimed you.”

“What?!” you shouted, and she shushed you, giggling as she did.

Latching onto your hands, she said, “The boys are serious about this, too. No one’s ever broken it. Mingi told me that if any of them get close then they’re forced to absolutely humiliate themselves, or something. I’m not really sure, ‘cause I don’t think any of them have even tried. You’re Seonghwa’s, and if any ATZ boys try anything with you then they’ll be kicked out of the frat.”

Your heart sunk into your stomach.

“Oh,” you said, nodding your head. Tori narrowed her eyes and rolled her shoulders back, inspecting you.

“Didn’t Yunho say Hwa was dating somebody?”

Gulping at the mention of his name, you shook your head. “He lied.”

Tori froze. “Why would he lie?”

“I dunno,” you spewed quickly, flipping open to a random page in your book, hoping to end this conversation before it drew on any longer. “He’s been weird this whole time we’ve been back.”

Tori glanced down at your work and pursed her lips. Sliding off your bed she spun around and clasped her hands behind her back. “It’s probably just what Mina said, yanno? Coming back, feeling overwhelmed? Did you guys…” Her pause made you look at her. “Oh,” she breathed. “Right.”

Rolling your eyes you took back to your book, you said, “No, we didn’t go to Blend.”

Tori nodded, looking around your shared room. “Right,” she muttered. “We’re banned. You guys have been talking though, right? Maybe you just have to pull him out of his head, you know how he gets sometimes.” She puttered about the room, looking through more things for her planner. “When he loves something he gets crazy. Remember his report on medieval Europe, or whatever he was hyper focused on?” You lifted your chin, watching her walk around. “That boy is kind, I’ll tell you that, but Mingi’s told me he’s been a little brain fried, I think.”

“What do you mean?” you whispered, watching her flip one of her empty designer purses upside down like something would miraculously fall out of it. She sighed and slumped over, then looked at you.

“You guys really haven’t talked?” She tossed the purse to the floor and took your head shake as an answer. Resorting to your shared closet she started pushing hanging clothes aside, dropping to her knees again so her hands could skim the floor full of shoes. “I guess he and I really haven’t either, with the ban, whenever we’re there I’m all over Mingi.” She giggled. An obscure fact, of course. “But, you know Yunho, Ror. When he has his brain set on something, a project, a report, a lesson… If it’s something he loves he’s gonna be scatterbrained.”

“Classes just started,” you said, voice tiny.

Tori flipped her hair over her shoulder and groaned. “Then, I dunno, Ror, maybe he’s in love with Mina or something, it’s a person then, not his schoolwork.” She shot out of the closet, shouting loud enough to wake up the house. “I FOUND IT!” Her ITZ planner covered in cute little stickers was in her hand as she jumped to her feet. Footsteps bound into the room, Yuna whipping around the corner at lighting speed. The two voiced their relief and started out of the room. Tori stopped before she left, looking back at you staring at the floor. “You good, Ror?”

Trying to take a breath, you attempted a smile, one she believed.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said even though you couldn’t feel your legs.

With a smile, she was gone, closing the door behind her.

Blinking, you took the shakiest breath, releasing it with a sigh, you whispered, “Fuck.”

september 15th ~ sunday ~ 11:15 p.m.

[starhwa]: Thinking about you, don’t work too hard this week, need my girl to be happy.

[you]: don’t worry, she’s not freaking out about her classes

[starhwa]: But she’s freaking out?

[you]: slightly

[starhwa]: Do you want to talk about it?

[you]: not yet, i’m sorry

[starhwa]: Don’t apologize to me, when you want to tell me you will.

september 16th ~ monday ~ 8:02 a.m.

[you]: you’re making me nervous, yo

[you]: i need to talk to you, please

september 16th ~ monday ~ 11:23 a.m.

“Small iced coffee, please, with cream and a shot of caramel.”

The cafe was empty for a Monday mid-morning, Blend usually buzzing and alive around seven when students would flood the concrete floor like feins, jonesing for a sniff of the freshly roasted coffee, allowing themselves to be late because they waited in the long lines that’d pour out the door. This semester you’d be avoiding those lines on a Monday, your first class didn’t start until noon.

“Small?” The barista teased, using his ring covered fingers to push his dark hair from his eyes. It fell towards his lanky shoulders, his smaller frame swallowed by the brown apron he had to wear over his jeans and t-shirt. Turning to get started on your coffee, he raised a brow. “You’ve gone weak.” His eyes drew over your outfit, a hoodie and jeans. “Junior year means you’re watching your caffeine?” He mimicked a British accent and you both laughed.

“No,” you smiled, adjusting your bag on your shoulder, “Maybe just watching the anxiety?” Your accent was terrible, and he was quick to call you out on it.

“Darling,” he widened his eyes and crossed behind the bar, fixing your cup. “That was awful,” you both laughed, “Why are we anxious, the year has just started?”

Shrugging, you weren’t sure what to say to him.

Taeyang, with Theo written on his nametag, lowered his brows and rolled his eyes. “I don’t like that answer.” He pumped an extra shot of caramel in your cup, his subtle way of showing you that you were one of his favorites. “Choi Aurora,” he said, setting his eyes on you. Popping a lid and a purple straw into your cup, he came back toward the register and almost handed you your cup, taking it back before you could grab it. “Where’ve you and your friend been?”

“Tori?” you asked, and he shook his head.

“The boy, Yunho,” he said, stone faced. “You’re usually all up in here. Last semester I had to kick you guys out ‘cause we were closing and you two wouldn’t shut up.”

Averting your eyes to the counter, you shrugged again. “There’s been house drama, I guess,” you said. When you found his eyes, his deep, off putting, mystery filled eyes, you said, “We’ve been banned from seeing them.”

The accent was back and he lost it, sliding you your coffee, punching in numbers on the register. “Sorry to hear that, sweetums,” he said, shooting you a smile. The door to the cafe swung open behind you, the little bell that hung above it sung a little song. “Three seventy five.” Setting his hands on the counter, Theo nodded his head to whoever was behind you while you rifled through your bag for the cash. “What can I get started for you?”

“Iced Americano, large,” the familiar voice said, coming a bit closer to you.

Theo shot you a look. “One large coming up.”

“Shut up, Tae,” you grumbled. Your wallet was gone, and you couldn’t even fumble together random cash from the bottom of your bag. Tori must’ve dropped it on the floor when she was looking for her planner, but thank god she put the empty Plan B box back in here, because that was important. “Can I still send it to your number? Is that a thing?” Fumbling for your phone you slid it open and sent an urgent message to your father.

[you]: can i please have five dollars quick, just trying to buy a coffee

[choi asshole #1]: I sent you fifty last week so you’d have it for coffee. Where the fuck did that go already?

[you]: coffee

The empty box in your bag.

“Yeah, Ror, that’s fine,” Theo said with a brow scrunch, already serving the boy behind you. “Six fifty.”

“Ror?” The boy behind you stepped up the counter, leaning his elbows on it. “I got this, put us together.” Whipping your head to the right you’re greeted with blonde hair and black eyes, the tall boy giving you the smallest smile. “What’s up?”

Glancing to the coffees, you said, “You don’t have to do that.”

Soul shrugged, taking a sip of his. “It’s my pleasure.”

Theo laughed, sending you a look. “It’s his pleasure,” he whispered in the accent, making you smile. Soul’s gaze traveled from him to you, and he stood up straight, towering over you.

“Where are you headed?” he asked, slapping a twenty on the counter. Grabbing his drink he started to walk away, taking you with him.

“This is too much, Shota,” Theo said, voice low, studying him through his lashes. The freshman turned back and waved him off.

“Keep it,” he said without a thought. “Thanks, bro.”

Theo rolled his eyes and popped the cash in his drawer. “Anytime, bro.”

“Thanks, Tae,” you said, waving as you walked beside Soul, taking a sip of your coffee. “This is the best, thank you.” He didn’t look up, he only bobbed his head.

Soul held the door for you, the two of you stepping out into the September breeze. Delo stayed fairly warm until the fall months, but not like Sicuro, or Contramano. Those areas stayed hot for long. Delo was comfortable, it was perfect. Hoodies in September, sweaters in November, sundresses in March and April… You adored every bit of it.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Soul said, looking down at you. Sipping your coffee you scrunched your brow. “Where are you headed?” His hair was clean, hanging over his forehead, touching his shoulders. He wore something similar to what he was in the other night, ripped black jeans and a random t-shirt that fit his aesthetic.

“I have business statistics at twelve,” you said. He started to smile, his lips pressed together, then his eyes scanned your being like yours did to his.

Way to be subtle, Ror.

“Business statistics,” he curled his lip. “You smart people. What’s your major?”

“Marketing,” you said, and he stared at you, not computing. “It’s basically business.”

“Coulda started with that,” he huffed a laugh, then pointed around for directions. “Lead the way.”

Raising your brows, you asked, “You’re gonna walk me there?”

Soul sipped his coffee and gave you a look of surprise. “What kind of gentlemen would I be if I bought you a coffee and made you walk to class all alone on this beautiful day and this…” he glanced around, “...very safe, very clean, very put together college campus.”

He took note of the smile that had found your lips at some point standing here with him. “Alright,” you said, starting down the street to the left, “This way, Soul.”

Falling in step with you, he seemed to find you more interesting than the commotion of other students around him. Asking you questions about when you started at Nasara, how you got into ITZ, how you became friends with the members of ATZ… He got a brief history lesson while he guzzled down his coffee.

“You’re going to join, right?” His eyes went wide while he sipped from his straw, answer enough. “You and your friends? That I met at the house?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, proud. “Me, Seob, Intak… We’ve been friends since high school, we’ve been waiting for this for three years.”

Taking a right down a street corner, Soul kept himself in time with you, though you're certain he would walk much faster if you were the one following him. His legs could stretch for miles.

“Three years? You’ve wanted to go to Nasara since you were a sophomore in high school?”

Soul tossed his empty cup into a trash can on the street and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You know Taeyang was in ATZ, right? Theo?” Pausing at a green light while the cars passed by, you looked up at him curiously. “Tae?”

“Yes, I know who you’re talking about,” you half laughed, shaking your head.

“He’s my brother,” he said nonchalantly, moving his focus to the traffic.

Popping your jaw open, you said, “Oh my god, wait, he graduated last year. He’s your brother?”

Soul shrugged. “Step-brother,” he mumbled as if the words tasted bad. He turned to you. “My dad married his mom right before he graduated high school.”

“Interesting,” you said, grabbing his arm when the light turned red and the crosswalk sign lit up. Soul moved into you, a crowd of people coming from the opposite way forcing you together. “He’s never said anything about a brother.”

“‘Cause he hates me,” Soul scrunched his nose, again with some sort of pride, some sort of confidence. Landing on the other side of the street you both took your hands to yourselves and headed toward the end of the street where a massive building waited for you.

“Why would he hate you, he’s a grown adult who-”

“I fucked his girlfriend.”

Stopping dead in your tracks he didn’t catch on until a couple steps later. Taking in the shock on your face as he turned around, the grin that lit him up was entirely adorable, a word that shouldn't be used after what he’s just told you. Walking backwards, willing you to follow him, he laughed.

“You’re not serious,” you said.

Soul nibbled his bottom lip. “I’m so serious.” Expertly threading his feet behind him, he cocked his chin up and asked, “Am I ATZ material?”

Rolling your eyes, you said, “This year I think you fit right in.”

He allowed you to catch up to his side, then he spun around and continued forward, eyeing the building you were approaching. “Theo’s mom doesn’t think I’m smart enough,” he mumbled, a secret he didn’t seem to want to say. Either that, or he hasn’t had anyone to say it to. Giving him a look, he hung his head back, the confidence still pouring from him despite his sudden lament. “My dad could pay them off though,” he shrugged, meeting your eyes. “Another reason for Taeyang to hate me.”

“Well,” you began, pausing at the bench on the street in front of the double doors you were meant to go inside. Dropping your bag to the seat you searched for a lipgloss and pulled it out, twisting it open. “That’s not very fair.”

Sliding the brush over your lips, Soul watched. “It’s not?” he asked, his voice almost whispering. Rubbing your lips together you shook your head.

“Not really, I mean most of those guys work really hard,” you said. Applying another layer of gloss, Soul poked the tip of his tongue between his lips. Rubbing your lips together with a smack this time, he snapped his eyes back to yours. “I think if you just applied yourself and worked hard to get your grades up this first semester, they’d consider you without the money.” He bobbed his head, hanging onto every word. Taking the last sip of your coffee, the straw sticking to your fresh gloss, Soul held out his hand.

“I’ll take care of it,” he breathed, his eyes flickering to your lips again. Slipping the cup into his hand you slung your bag over your shoulder and smiled.

“Thanks,” you said, and he nodded. “For the coffee and the walk.”

“Anytime.” His face was so pure, so seemingly innocent that one would never be able to believe he fucked his older brothers girlfriend. “Thanks for the advice.”

“Of course.” Ignoring the way he ogled your lips again, you headed toward the double glass doors, not going inside until you threw him a, “Work hard, Soul,” over your shoulder.

september 17th ~ tuesday ~ 3:30 p.m.

[choi asshole #1]: I’ll be in Contramano until Saturday Aura.

[you]: wonderful, enjoy, bring home the big bucks

[choi asshole #1]: Don’t talk like that, come on.

[you]: what else do you do in Mano

The phone screen lit up, choi asshole #1 in bright white letters across the top of it.

“Who’s calling you?” Tori asked from the seat at the table next to you. She leaned on your shoulder and gasped, the sound startling you. “Answer it, answer it, answer it.”

Disgust bled onto your face as you looked at her. “Don’t have a crush on my dad, Tor.”

“How can I not?” she whispered, staring at the bouncing text on the screen. His photo was a funny one of you two from when you were a toddler, sitting on his lap, the two of you with matching pigtails in your hair. Releasing a breath, you gave her a small headshake, then drug the arrow across the screen, answering the video call.

“Hi, Dad,” you said, not the least bit excited to listen to what he had to say. Tori grabbed the back of your hand and twisted the phone so you were both in the frame.

“Hi, Mr. Choi,” she crooned, sitting her chin in her hand.

He appeared, his black hair parted to the side over his forehead, cut short, but long enough to reach his brows. “Tori, how many times do I have to tell you, call me Yeonjun, I don’t like the honorifics.”

She smiled and giggled. “It’s respect, Mr. Choi, I can’t not call you anything but that.”

Your father clicked his tongue and glanced over his phone, a woman's laugh sounding off camera. “Fine,” he said, then looked back at you. “Aura, I wanna be able to give you enough for next month, that’s why I’m going.”

“Okay,” you said, hardening your glare.

Yeonjun glanced over the phone once more, seeming to share a sigh with whoever was behind the screen. “It’s fast,” he said, trying to reason with you. “Your uncle’s coming with me, we’re gonna be fine.”

“And Seulgi? Or is that Lisa?” You swallowed your laugh as Tori launched herself out of the frame to lose her composure. Yeonjun laughed, letting his head bob.

“It’s Haru, but thank you for that.”

You smiled. “Of course.”

“How was your first week of classes? The second starting out okay?”

Ignoring the way Tori tapped your arm, you leaned over the table and focused on the phone. “They were just great, Dad. Same old shit.”

“And the sorority? Everything going okay?”

Now you shared a look with Tori, one that told her to keep her mouth shut.

“It’s all good,” you said, looking down at your phone. He was walking around now, the woman he was with mumbling things to him as his brows twisted. The two spoke to one another for a second before he focused on you.

“Glad to hear it, Aura,” he finally said. “You staying away from the boys down the street?”

A knife to the gut. “As much as you’re staying away from the women in Contramano.”

Yeonjun shot a glare toward the camera, the woman laughing aloud near him. “Really hope you’re not serious, Aurora. Remember what I told you, they’re trouble. They might look all nice from the outside, but they’re only thinking about one thing.”

“What if we are, too?” Tori whispered, and a laugh shot through you. Thankfully, your father didn’t hear.

“I don’t want or need any grandkids yet, okay?”

“Yeah, and I don’t want or need any siblings, okay? Wrap it before you tap it, Junie.”

Tori just about lost her shit.

Yeonjun shook his head and glanced upward, seeking some sort of help from the heavens. “You’re my child. Think I made you myself. Did your mother help at all?”

Running your tongue over your teeth you tilted your head. “If you ever find her, ask her.”

Yeonjun sighed, exasperated. “These phone calls exhaust me as much as they exhaust you, Aura. Trust me.” He paused whatever it was that he could possibly be doing at this hour on a Tuesday, and he gave you his full attention. “You are my everything. Please, be safe. You and Tori, don’t leave each other alone at those parties, okay?”

“Okay,” you said.

Tori peeped her head into the frame. “Okay, Yeonjun.”

His face lit up, his smile wide as he looked at her. “Yes! Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, her cheeks flushing pink. You kicked her ankle with yours.

“Aura, I love you,” your father said, raising both his brows. “I’ll let you know when I’m there, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered. “I love you, too. Be safe.”

He gave you a soft smile. “I will.”

Before he hung up you tossed in a, “Don’t get arrested again,” that made him grin and equally groan as the screen went black. Laying your phone on the table you drug your hands through your hair and took a long breath, turning towards Tori in your chair, laughing quietly at the way she eyed you.

“Go ahead,” you muttered.

She wasted little time. “Hottest drug dealer ever.”

september 18th ~ wednesday ~ 6:47 p.m.

[you]: this is the last time i’m messaging you yunho

[you]: did i sit on your dick wrong or something, just let me know whats going on

september 20th ~ friday ~ 9:19 p.m.

Yeji, Tori, Mina, Yuna, Chaeryeong… The three of them holed up in a meeting the second all of their last classes for the day were over. In two days you’d all be meeting the freshmen recruits out of the applicants your trustworthy sisters ran background checks on now.

ITZ had applicants. The chapter would grow, the costs would go down, the drama would lessen, and life would move on.

Neither you and Tori nor any of the other girls have attempted to sneak out of the house this week. With classes in full swing the attention had shifted and now the priority was homework and good grades. In order to be examples for the future of ITZ none of you could afford a slip in GPA.

This past week has been a strange one. Anytime you set foot into Blend for a coffee you were reminded that Theo and Soul were step brothers, though you never brought it up to your favorite barista who also in turn had been one of the safest guys you knew in ATZ last year. Seonghwa hadn’t left you alone, he asked you about your day everyday, allowing you to rant about your classes or bitch about a professor. And Soul, well, he always seemed to find you on campus day after day since Monday.

Much like right now.

The soft knock at the door seemed to embody his exact energy. Soft at first, but the second the door was opened he was entirely unpredictable.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

After unlocking the several locks on the front door you tugged it open to his smug little smile and his blonde hair pulled back in a tie. Wisps hung at his neck and his forehead.

“Come to ATZ,” he said, and you hushed him, turning backward to see if anyone was around. They’d been in the meeting for over an hour now, who knew when it’d be over.

“You’re lucky I answered the door,” you said. “If it were anyone else you’d be done for. You’re not allowed to be here.”

He perked a single brow. “The ban?”

“The rules, Soul,” you hissed, stepping out onto the porch with him, closing the door behind you. He stepped aside and folded his arms over his chest. “That’s always been an ITZ thing, it’s a sorority thing, no boys allowed without permission.”

He checked you out without shame. Taking your hands to your black shorts you tugged the cotton down a smidge. “Come for a little?”

“Look, Soul,” you sighed, stepping closer to him. He pouted his lips the slightest, his black eyes shining and wide. “I like this friendship we’re starting, and I admire your persistence.”

“But?” he asked, adding in the word himself like he knew it was coming. Dropping his chin he looked down at his feet, a frown forming on his pink lips.

“But,” you said, watching him as he slipped his phone out of his pocket, tapped a few things, then shoved it back into his jeans. Laughing quietly, you gestured toward it. “You’re young.”

“I’m nineteen.” He screwed his face up.

“You’re a freshman, you’ve got a lot on your plate right now, especially with ATZ, I’m dealing with a lot, especially with ATZ,” you paused for a moment, feeling half your heart crumble as he gazed at you. “If I’m picking up what I think you’re putting down… Soul, I have feelings for somebody else. What you want won’t work, it won’t happen.”

He nodded, his expression falling solemn. “Seonghwa?” he asked, looking up at you.

Your lungs contracted in on themselves. “Yes,” you whispered, and he nodded, glancing down with his brows pulled together. “I’m sorry, Soul. You’re cool, you’ve got a lot going for you.” Taking another step closer to him, you pushed some wisps of hair from his eyes. “And you’re adorable.”

He blinked a few times, his black eyes lighting up. “I am?” He spoke in a whisper.

Smiling, you nodded once, then leaned into him, pressing your lips to his cheek. His shoulders rose and a quiet gasp shot through him. When you pulled back, he was wearing the tiniest smile.

“If you liked that Monday walk I wouldn’t mind if it became a thing,” you said. “Y’know, occasionally. Grab a coffee, walk to class?”

“I skipped my ten o’clock for you,” he whispered, then he giggled at the look you gave him.

“Soul, didn’t I say to work hard?” You nudged his shoulder and he played it up like you shot him, his hand latching on top of yours to keep it on him. “How did you even know where I was?”

He shrugged, squeezed your hand, then let it go. “Lucky guess?”

Sighing, you stepped back and waved him off the porch. “Go to your classes, Soul. Go back to ATZ, or wherever you came from.” You both shared a smile, and he obeyed, leaping off the porch with a single jump. “Don’t ruin your chance,” you shouted as he walked backward, his eyes eating you up. “You can do it here,” you pointed to your head, then moved them to where your pockets would be if you had any. “Not from here.”

“Thanks, Aurora,” he said, and when he hit the sidewalk after passing through the gate, he was gone, thankfully, because the moment you had the door locked the meeting was adjourned and Tori had a wicked grin on her face when she grabbed your arm and hauled you upstairs.

september 20th ~ friday ~ 9:49 p.m.

On the leather couch in the back of the ATZ living room, Seonghwa sat with his legs stretched out, his entire being taking up the space of three people. With his head laid back on the armrest, he scrolled his phone, mainly Instagram, taking note of the follower counts, the comments on posts, and what people were saying about either house.

Yeji was trending, she posted her outfit of the day this morning with the hashtag #presidentialvibes on her story. Her groupies were buzzing, dissecting the clothes, breaking down the hair, curious if it were her same routine or if she had changed it because of the new color.

Wooyoung’s name popped up somewhere, he was always posting. This time it was of the view from the window of his education and society class, the sociology major keeping up with his followers, commenting back to them whenever they’d leave him something of interest. San was actively under his posts, the boy was next in line in the amount of followers he had, but only because every single post was of him half naked. Thank god he was smart otherwise there’d be an issue there, even though he was usually the one to pull people into the house and get them hooked.

Mingi posted about his homework confusing him, saying he needed help, Jongho, like Yeji, posted a fit check, and Yeosang had a photo up in the last two days of him and this girl he’d started seeing. She wasn’t a part of ITZ, something he was keen on. They shared a major, that medical shit. Her profile was quiet, just as the other ITZ girls were.

As was Yunho.

In fact, he’d been keeping a low profile in the house since last week. The guys would see him leave for class, and then he’d come back and camp out in his bedroom.

Last Friday was curious. Seonghwa had Aurora by his side, as he should, and then she was gone. And then, Yunho was gone. The house, entirely too crowded, made it impossible to track them down anyway, until Aurora appeared and asked for her phone back. Tentative to hand it over, intrigued by how fast she was moving, Seonghwa reluctantly handed it back to her and mumbled, “You need to put a passcode on that.”

But, she didn’t hear him.

She was flustered, overwhelmed, and all the more flushed.

Seonghwa knew that face.

Seonghwa knew why Yunho was avoiding everybody.

“Hey,” Soul said, out of breath, rushing into the living room with his phone out. There was little movement around the house this evening, Hongjoong was working on plans for the recruitment dinner with Mingi, and the others were hunched over their homework scattered around the property. Yeosang was on the couch through the archway, nose deep in a textbook with the occasional break to send a text message with a smile.

“You’re back quick,” Seonghwa said, sitting up, dropping his feet to the floor. Soul, grinning wide, shoved his phone into the vice president's hand. “No way you made it happen.”

The freshman took two steps back and propped his hands on his hips, finally able to take a breath to steady his racing heart. “I did, watch that, listen to that.”

Seonghwa eyed him, then tapped the play button on the video.

Aurora’s voice filled the air.

“If I’m picking up what I think you’re putting down… Soul, I have feelings for somebody else. What you want won’t work, it won’t happen.”

“Seonghwa?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Soul. You’re cool, you’ve got a lot going for you. And you’re adorable.”

“I am?”

Seonghwa’s eyes bugged out of his head as he stared up at Soul, the freshman laughing to himself. “She did it herself.”

Soul threw a hand toward the phone. “You were right, she’s easy.”

“Watch it,” Seonghwa sneered, and Soul planted his hands behind his back.

“She kissed my cheek,” he said. “It wasn’t an actual one, but it still counts, right?”

Seonghwa paused the video halfway through Aurora telling Soul how to live his life, like the boy would actually listen. “I’ll count it.”

“Thank you,” Soul sighed, tipping his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. Seonghwa looked him up and down.

“You tell me she’s shown interest?”

Soul looked at his domineer and nodded. “Not in her words, but…”

“In her eyes?” Seonghwa asked, and Soul continued to bob his head. “Yeah, she does that,” he breathed, handing the freshman his phone. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind ending up in bed with you.” The corners of his lips perked up, and Seonghwa glared at him. “Wipe that look off your face, are you stupid? She’s mine, you heard her say it.”

“Right,” Soul shook his face clean. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Seonghwa clenched his jaw before he said, “Go home, Soul. Come back tomorrow, I’ll have something else for you.”

“This clears senior year though, right?” Soul asked, anxiously awaiting the answer.

“Just about,” Seonghwa said, and the boy sighed in relief. “You’ve passed with San, and you’re almost through with me. Gonna need you to keep up this act with her, okay?” Soul smiled. “An act, Shota. Don’t get ballsy, do you remember what you said? She’s easy.”

“Yeah,” Soul said, quietly. “I got it.”

“Go back to the dorms. I’ll send you her location tomorrow if she goes out.”

Seonghwa watched him hurry from the house, giving Yeosang a sly goodbye as he passed him. An act. One Seonghwa knew Aurora and the freshman who moved with his dick instead of his brain wouldn’t be able to hold themselves back from.

Picking his own phone back up, he opened his messages and smirked.

[seonghwa]: Soul’s in her head now. Can’t confirm if last Friday is true or not still. Will let you know when I find out.

[hbic]: You need to recruit him.

[seonghwa]: He’s proving himself. If he can get her here, he’s an automatic in. His GPA sucks.

[hbic]: Keep her hooked. Have they been talking?

[seonghwa]: No proof. Haven’t seen Yunho in days.

[hbic]: Get Soul to find out. Otherwise we find out at the recruitment dinner.

[seonghwa]: Yes ma’am.

[hbic]: I’ll update Yeji.

NU home ✧ nice for what masterlist ✧ talk to me ✧ thank you for reading <3

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

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drakaripykiros130ac · 1 year ago

Text

One thing I have always admired about the Blacks is how they are a tight family unit, compared to the greens.

The Blacks did not even start out as a one whole family. Rhaenyra and Daemon both had different spouses, children from different marriages. And after Rhaenyra and Daemon finally married, the Blacks all became one in the true sense of the word family. They always have each other’s backs.

The greens, on the other hand, always seemed to me as a necessary alliance, but never a true family. For Alicent and Otto, the green kids and grandkids were nothing more than their political chess pieces.

Even when Daemon thought that “a son for a son” would hurt the greens just as much as they hurt Rhaenyra, it didn’t really have that effect. The only one who truly suffered was Helaena. The others, especially Alicent and Otto, saw this as a direct attack on their faction, and as a result they needed to strike back. But they didn’t truly give a damn that the little boy was gone from their lives. They lost an important chess piece. That’s about it.

There are a lot of things which make the greens seem as an alliance rather than a family. Such as the fact that Aemond secretly seeks to take the throne from his brother. He doesn’t actually do it, but it is constantly implied how much worthier he deems to be compared to Aegon (both in the book and the show). And he didn’t hesitate to take charge and wear the Conqueror’s crown while Aegon was incapacitated.

Next, there is Daeron, who barely even knows his so-called family, given how much time he spent in Oldtown. He is a Hightower pawn with a dragon, and used as such throughout the whole Dance.

As for Helaena, while she doesn’t have issues in the book, she is still treated as the least important green. Nobody truly cares about her suffering. Alicent put the crown on her head and called her “Queen” yet she constantly undermined her position, and acted as if she was still the Queen. And after Helaena does commit suicide, there is barely any mourning. Alicent plots to have her son married to Cassandra Baratheon and produce male heirs, just to avoid having Rhaenyra’s son end up on the throne.

Finally, we have Ser Crispin Cole. He likes to think that he is part of the “green family” but he really isn’t. He is the family guard dog. They are basically using him. Using his hatred for Rhaenyra for their own gain.

The Blacks have such great family vibes, that it’s a shame they didn’t focus on it in the show. The show writers were really lazy in the writing of the family dynamic for Team Black. They spent so many happy years on Dragonstone before the war started. We barely got a glimpse of that.

Don’t even get me started on how they didn’t show even a bit of Daemyra’s married life. Episodes 8-10 were straight up business. It would have been nice to show how happy the Blacks were away from the Court drama and the greens’ bullying.

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mrsfrecklesmarauders · 3 months ago

Text

Lily didn't know that fourteen was the year for kids to go love crazy. Ever since the term started she had heard her classmates talking about who they fancied or not, who was the fittest bird or bloke. Like Mary Macdonald who since the term began, didn't stop talking about how James Potter had gotten more handsome than ever.

Lily didn't agree. The prospect of being on the age of potentially starting having boyfriends excited her. She was a seeker for a good romance after all. But Lily didn't see her male classmates as fit or good matches like the rest of the girls. Specially not James Potter, who was her real nightmare since she met him three years ago. She couldn't find anyone more annoying, more irritating and more self centered as Potter. Lily didn't understand what Mary saw in him.

At least Lily could understand why half of the girls at Hogwarts were wondering if Sirius Black was single. Because only a blind person couldn't see how handsome that wanker was. But Potter? Really? With those big glasses and that untidy hair...

"Marly, you are his friend" Mary was saying that night "Do you think he would be interested in me?"

Lily was silent as she pretend to read a book from her bed.

Marlene made face "I don't think James is interested in anyone more than himself, if I'm honest"

Lily couldn't agree more.

"Oh come on! Boys are finally noticing us" Mary commented "And it is obvious that both boys and girls are more... developed" she smirked "James has always been cute. But he is taller and his voice is deeper... He's becoming a man"

Lily couldn't help but snort. James Potter could be a monkey more than a man.

Shit, now the girls were looking at her.

"Sorry" Lily blushed as she pointed to the book on her hands "Just read a funny scene"

The girls ignored her. Mary turned to Marlene again.

"Could you please ask him if he would be interested in me?"

"Do I have to?" Marlene didn't seem convinced, so Mary pouted.

"Pleaseee!"

Marlene twisted her mouth.

"Fine! I'll ask him"

Mary beamed, hugging her friend tight. Marlene was pleased.

"But honestly Mar, you can do so much better" she tutted.

Lily pitied Mary or the poor girl that ended up dating James Potter.

Perhaps she could give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe Potter had matured this year and poor Mary had a chance.

Although Lily confirmed that James Potter was the horrible person she always thought he was the next day.

Lily was minding her own business, walking to the Library in fact, when she heard the group of boys that called themselves The Marauders (lame name) talking on the stairs.

"That was the fifth time this week, Sirius" Peter said after a group of giggling girls waved at Sirius and he winked back "We haven't settled in properly and half the school is drooling for you"

Lily didn't know why she hid behind the wall to keep listening. It was none of her business. Well, maybe she was a curious person. Reason why she listened to Mary and Marlene talking last night. If her life was dull, maybe she could live it through other people's dramas.

"Speaking from envy, Pete?" Lily could hear the smile on Sirius’s voice "It's not my fault I have gorgeous looks"

"The difference is that Sirius announced he is not interested in dating any of them" Potter added with a cheeky tone "Didn't you, mate?"

"Not fair" Peter groaned "I want to date all of them"

"Don't sound so desperate, Pettigrew" Sirius chuckled "We just started term"

"Yeah but something weird happened since this summer. I can't stop watching girls and..."

"Wanking?" Potter asked with a laugh. Black laughed with him.

"Guys!" Peter protested and Lily assumed he was getting red.

Lily felt her cheeks burning. She had heard some of Petunia's friends talking about the matter before. But it seemed so weird, taboo and disgusting.

"Totally normal" Potter continued "Talked about it with my dad. We're getting older and we are having sexual needs"

"You talked about it with your dad?" Black seemed surprised.

"Well, by force" Potter confirmed, Lily could swore he was red "He caught me staring at several women's necklines during the summer, then sat me to talk about the matter"

God, Potter was so disgusting.

"And he told you about wanking and stuff?" Sirius asked amused.

"Not precisely, he just said that it is normal we look at girls and feel... Stuff..."

Lily shouldn't be listening to this. Oh my God. But her feet seemed to be stuck.

"I feel stuff" Peter confirmed as Sirius laughed.

"You guys are so pathetic"

"Don't tell me, Sirius, that you don't find girls interesting"

"There might be several, I consider interesting..."

"I consider them all interesting at the moment" Peter commented under his breath.

"There are several girls who... developed this year" Potter said. It was what Mary had said.

"Like who?" Black teased.

"Lily Evans, for example"

The second Potter said that, his friends bursted into fits of laughter. And Lily's eyes widened.

"Whinny Little Evans?"

"Snivellus's Friend?"

"Teacher's pet Evans?"

"What?" Potter protested as the two boys kept laughing "I saw her the other day with a tight blouse and she had boobs...A nice pair, I might add"

Lily stared down at her chest. They definitely had grown but other girls had them bigger and more rounded. Lily never considered she had a good body or good face for that matter.

Black and Pettigrew kept laughing as they couldn't believe Lily had actual boobs.

Lily imagined Potter's cheeks bright red and the annoying way in which he pushed his glasses up when he was nervous.

"Oh sod off! Stop laughing!"

Lily cursed herself for knowing that.

"Come on, Jamsie!" Sirius giggled "We're talking about Evans... Evaaans... The girl is nuts"

"And very annoying" Peter agreed "She always telling teachers what we do"

Lily pursed her lips. That was because they were always doing mischief.

"I know... I know..." Potter said nervously "I'm not saying I'm marrying her or anything. I just think she is fitter this term. I am not blind... "

"You are blind" Sirius chuckled "Her nose is too big and her braces make her look weird"

Lily felt a knot on her throat. She shouldn't care what that wanker said.

"Oh, she is not wearing braces anymore" Potter intervened "She looks better without them"

What annoyed Lily the most was that James Potter of all people was defending her.

"Did you hear, Pete?" Sirius laughed "Our Jamsie is in love with Whinny Evans"

"I am not!!" Potter seemed embarrassed "I just pointing out that she is kind of fit... That's... That's all"

Black continued laughing. The prat.

"Oh shut up, Sirius!"

"Good thing you don't fancy her" Peter intervened "I heard she is dating Snivellus"

Honestly, people were so annoying. Severus was her friend. Her best friend. A lot of people had assumed they were dating over the years. As if boys and girls couldn't be friends. Of course the rumor had spread now more since her classmates were more obsessed about the dating subject.

"See, Pete?" Sirius was mocking "Even Snivellus is dating someone and not you"

"Fuck off, Sirius!"

"Honestly, Evans deserve better than old Snivellus" Potter commented with a tut.

"Like you, my brilliant hero?"

Black was a disgusting pig, he made everything a joke.

"I'm just saying it because no matter how annoying she is... Nobody deserves to date someone so disgusting as Snivellus... Too much grease!"

Lily clenched her fist. She could punch him. Why wouldn't they leave Severus alone?

"Yeah, right" Sirius tutted.

"And maybe yes! I would be an improvement for Evans, surely"

It was Peter's turn to laugh.

"She would never give you a chance!"

"What's that supposed to mean, Pete?"

"Pete is right" Black added "She hates you, mate"

Potter gasped. Right it just hurt his ego.

"I bet pigs would fly before Evans gives you a chance" Peter added.

"Oh do you want to bet?" James asked now with his annoying superior tone. "I bet I can get Evans on a date before Peter even gets a date"

Lily had her mouth open now. Pettigrew would surely get offended. But he didn't show it

"Oh it is on!" he spat "I will totally win this. Evans despises you"

Lily did. Even more now.

There was a brief silence now, so Lily assumed they shook hands.

"I want to be in" Black added.

"No no no!" Peter said "It is too easy for you"

"Put me an impossible, then"

What a pig!

"McGonagall!" James exclaimed. The other boys laughed.

"Very funny"

"Okay... There's not impossible for you, though"

"How about a number?" Sirius said "I snog twenty girls before Christmas break"

"Twenty!?" Peter was shocked.

Lily couldn't hear anymore. She was so angry and disgusted that she was going to commit murder if she continued there any longer.

Lily's anger lasted all day. She couldn't concentrate on her classes, which annoyed her. She couldn't stop thinking about how much she wanted those boys to die. She hated them. She loathed them. Especially Potter.

Lily was spiteful at dinner. She was grunting under her breath. And aggressively serving herself the food.

"Are you okay?" Severus asked next to her.

Lily took a deep breath "Everyone is so annoying this term... Talking about dating and stuff... Aarrg it is so irritating"

Severus blinked at her.

"Ignore them"

"God, but everyone is so obsessed with it!"

"What do you think about that?" Severus asked nervously "Would you potentially..."

Lily was grabbing a piece of pie to place in her plate when the worst happened. The three assholes Lily didn't want to see appeared in that second. And pushed Severus away.

"Move, Snivellus! Out of our way" Potter snapped.

"Honestly," Black added "They shouldn't allow you near the food. You're gonna leave grease all over it"

A bunch of people laughed around them. Pettigrew the loudest. Potter was grinning and Lily wanted to rip his smile off his face.

Severus looked furious but broken. Lily was sick and tired of people treating him badly.

"Would you fuck off and leave Severus alone?" Lily snapped..

The Marauders' eyes were on her.

"Evans" Potter's hand went to his stupid hair "Defending your new boyfriend, are you?"

Lily was fuming

"Well, there are rumors surrounding you two" Potter said, then turned to Severus "Tell me, Snivy, how did you manage to be the first one in our year to have a girlfriend?"

God, this was so embarrassing. Lots of students were paying attention now. Some older students were telling them to move forward. Black found the whole thing amusing. And the worst part was that he had admirers. Even Mary and Marlene were around.

"Jealous?" Severus said under his breath.

"Not that is any of your business Potter" Lily snapped "But Severus is not my boyfriend"

Potter raised a curious eyebrow "Is that so?"

"Yes!"

"If Snivellus is not your boyfriend then..."

"Don't call him that!"

"You wouldn't mind me asking you on a date"

Several witnesses gasped or started murmuring amongst themselves. Lily couldn't avoid but blushing.

"Come on, Evans. You can do better than Snivellus" Potter cleared his throat and rubbed his hair "Would you like to go out on a date with me? Or what?"

Lily noticed how everyone's eyes were on her, expecting her answer. She saw how Severus was furious and humiliated. She saw how Black and Pettigrew were amused and she remembered their words from the morning. The way Black had made fun of her and called her ugly. And she also noticed Mary. She was eyeing at James hopefully, wishing she was her he was asking out. She had talked about how he was the love of her life the whole weak anyway.

This was humiliating. Everyone thought she was a laughing matter. They all hated her at that stupid school. Maybe except Severus.

Lily wanted to cry. But with that reaction, Potter would win. And she would never give in. And be used for a stupid bet.

So Lily grabbed the plate of pie she was going to have for dessert and tossed it to James Potter's stupid face. And God! How good it felt!

Everyone gasped, then laughed.

"I wouldn't even date you even if we were the last people on earth, Potter!" Lily screamed "You are a freaking idiot! I hate you!"

With that, Lily ran away before tears threatened to appear. Before the knot was too strong and Lily couldn't take it anymore.

In the scene remaining, James Potter was a joke for everyone around. Even his best friends. Traitors.

He knew cream had gotten inside his nostrils and his glasses were covered on it so he took them off. All he could feel and smell was lemon and sugar.

"You have something on your face, Potter" James saw a ghost of a smile on Snivellus's disgusting face. The wanker was pleased as he ran after Evans. James hated that twat.

"Are you okay, James?" Macdonald seemed concerned while Marlene couldn't contain her laughter next to her.

James nodded, trying not to look offended.

"Good job at winning the bet" Sirius whispered mockingly on his ear.

It wasn't that James cared about winning the freaking bet. Something weird happened to him when he bumped into Evans at the beginning of term. He felt something with wings flying inside of him. Butterflies? And he thought he hadn't seen a girl more beautiful than her. That beautiful long red hair, those freckles, her green eyes, her lips, her breasts, everything. His heart even jumped inside his chest.

But James didn't want to sound sappy in front of his mates. He was embarrassed about what Evans was making him feel.

"It is not over, Sirius" he said to his best friend as he tried to wipe cream off his face "I don't take a no for an answer"

#Fetus Jily for the soul #Maybe they didn't start in the best terms #But we know they end up falling in love with each other #Remus is not here because in my AU he arrives later to Hogwarts #marauders era #muggle au #lily evans #james potter #jily #sirius black #peter pettigrew #mary macdonald #marlene mckinnon

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bunnyluvx · 4 months ago

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spring is my favorite season.

featuring: niran pruksamanee (lifeweaver) x m/non-binary!reader.

summary: you learn new things about yourself after a late-night study session with your best friend.

warnings: n/a.

a/n: HEYYYY GUYS!! i didn't realize that july was the last time i posted eyfubino i am so sorry. i struggled with finding an idea for a new fanfic but i finally got one!!!! im honestly really happy with how this turned out, i have been wanting to get into overwatch for a really long time and i finally have it on my switch so i have been going CRAZY. everything may not be completely accurate with this so please forgive me if i missed something with the story. as far as i know, ow lore is really screwy so everyone has kind of made their own story and this is a brief look into my interpretation of things before niran joined overwatch. hope you guys enjoy!!!!!!!

date started: 8:01PM, september 7th, 2024.

date finished: 8:27PM, september 11th, 2024.

wc: 3k

ao3

Quiet swarms throughout the hallways of the building. Vishkar's dorms are surprisingly relatively peaceful. Though they don't come without their commotion, it brings enough solace to its residents so that they can go about their business uninterrupted. You disturb the silence when you exit your room, the door clicking closed at your side and your key sliding into the lock to secure it. Once finished, you walk three doors down and knock. You carry an armful of books and papers, resting the stack on your hip while you wait for the door to open. You barely have to practice your patience, for the door swiftly clears your path and your vision is greeted with a new sight.

On the other side is a tall young man with tan skin, long white hair tied up into a bun on the back of his head. Wearing a loose, white button-up shirt, black pants and a smile stands Niran Pruksamanee, your best friend. You met in one of the school's labs when you were working on your respective projects, and he was curious about yours, so he asked you about it. You discussed your works, exchanged contact information and the rest is history. The friendship that you have developed with Niran is one that you have needed all of your life. Throughout your years, you have wondered if anybody was going to care for you as much as you did for them, to match your energy in all things. You have not wondered that since you found Niran. He is your person, through thick and thin, and you could not want anyone else.

"You're here! It's about time." The man greets you, stepping aside while keeping the door ajar. "I thought that I was going to have to start without you."

You roll your eyes playfully, a crooked grin on your face as you walk in. "Yeah, yeah, relax, drama queen. Your gracious monarch has arrived."

The door closes behind you as you kick off your shoes, replacing them with a pair of blue slippers that Niran bought just for you. When you turn around, Niran's hands rest over his heart, his eyes turned up away from you. "Oh, my dearest, I have missed you so! I could have withered away from the ache alone! Wherever have you been?"

You decide to play into the charade, a little smirk playing on your lips as you take one of Niran's hands and pull him closer to you. "So sorry to keep you waiting, darling, I was asleep in the royal chambers. Could you ever forgive my tardiness?"

Eyes slightly widen and the smile falters from his lips in surprise for only a moment before his face relaxes and the smile returns. "Perhaps. But only if you prepare our feast tonight."

You break your character with a chuckle and release his hand, letting yours drop to the side. "Fine. Let's go."

With that, you both walk to Niran's room. You bump the door open with your hip, Niran heading to the door opposite to his room to grab a chair for you to sit on. You move to the desk and carefully set your stack of belongings onto the desk that sits directly across from the entrance, turning around to meet your best friend's eyes to ask, "Where's Satya?"

When you turn around, the white-haired man has already entered the room with your seat, rolling it behind you and taking a seat in the chair that already stood in front of the desk. "She is in the labs. She won't be back for awhile."

You glance at the seat that Niran pulled up for you, eyes looking back to him. "You're sure it's okay if I use her chair?"

Niran waves off your concern, leaning back. "Of course it is! Satya won't mind as long as we put it back when we're done with it."

You nod before turning to look at Niran's desk. It's littered with papers, stationary items messily placed into organizers and two lights resting near the corners of his desk on the edge. Your dearest friend has never been very put-together when it comes to his study spaces. You can tell when he has been working on something for days at a time without sleep when his room looks like a tornado went through it. Luckily for him, you are always there to remind him to take breaks to take care of himself.

While he does that, you clean and organize his desk, slipping papers into folders and setting them aside. You always make sure to label them too, so that when he returns to his work, Niran will know where everything is. You also cook for him, run him baths, do his laundry, anything that needs to be taken care of is a task that you are willing to take on. He always tells you how grateful he is when you're done too, and despite you telling him not to, he manages to somehow return the favor.

"Let's clear all of this up first, then we can get started." You instruct, moving to slide some of the papers towards you to pick up.

Niran salutes to your command and responds with, "Yes Sir!"

This makes you laugh, and together, you remove all of the unneeded materials from the desk to make room for both of your things. Working together makes it go much faster, and you're both able to start working before you know it. In between the focused silences, you converse and laugh over the latest gossip that you've overheard from other students. How it is that being around Niran makes your ability to focus so much better and so much worse at the same time is beyond you, but spending time with him like this is something that you always welcome.

Almost two and a half hours pass before you check the time, reading seven-thirty PM. You figure that you both could use a break, plus you need to fix dinner up. You practically have to drag Niran away from his task, but once you did and got him onto the couch, he didn't put up a fuss. You decided to make Tom Yum soup, something for the both of you to enjoy and that will leave you content for a few hours. The scent catches NIran's attention, moving his head up from his phone to you in the kitchen. "Is that Tom Yum?" He asks curiously, a smile gracing his lips.

"Yup. Figured it will motivate us." You confirm, stirring the large pot that brews before you.

A few brief moments of silence follow with your reply, which you find odd, until you feel strong arm come around your waist from behind. Your study buddy's chin rests on your shoulder and his eyes close, his voice rumbling a hum from low in his throat. "You know me so well."

Displays like this aren't exactly uncommon in your relationship. Holding hands while walking, draping arms around shoulders or waists, sitting in each other's lap, cuddling and napping, name it, you've probably done it together. Most of the time, you don't think about it too much, as you do not have shame when it comes to the way that you love your friends and how you express it. But there are times with Niran, that it feels different. Keeping you close to his side around strangers, or holding you tightly when you lay on top of him are examples that come to mind. Not to mention the fact that both of you refer to each other as soulmates, and gush for hours about each other to your friends. You would never tell Niran this, of course, but he seems to have no problem letting you know how much he adores you.

You know that your best friend is pansexual, but never once have you thought that he could have any feelings for you. If he had romantic feelings for you, then he would have told you by now. Your communication with each other is very open and straightforward, so if he had something to tell you, then he would. You yourself have only ever liked women, as far as you are concerned, so there is definitely nothing going on between the two of you. But if that's the truth, then why does your heart feel like it's about to leave your body??

You are frozen where you stand, your cheeks becoming brightly colored as the familiar sensation of the man's arms encases you in a protective warmth. Your eyes are blown wide, and your lips press together tightly. You've noticed recently that whenever he hugs you, your heart thrums a little faster in your chest. You brushed it aside, thinking that it was just excitement from the dearest person in your life showing you affection, but this is an entirely new level. You feel like you're in middle school, holding hands with your girlfriend in the halls for the first time. Everything in your body is screaming things that you can't understand, and your brain feels foggy. You have never reacted so extremely to his hugs before, so why is it now that you feel like you are about to combust where you stand??

Niran takes notice of the tension in your body quickly, lifting his chin from your shoulder to look at your face and ask, "Are you alright?"

You blink free from your daze, and glance at the man behind you. "I-I'm fine!"

A small frown tugs on his lips as he sees that you are very clearly not fine. "Are you uncomfortable? I can stop if you do not want me to do this."

Your cheeks only become brighter as you turn to him, his arms momentarily sliding off of your waist when you scramble to answer, "N-No! Nononononnononnnonnono, I am not uncomfortable at all! It's fine, Niran, really."

The man tilts his head, frown still curled in a pout on his face. "You're sure?"

You nod to him, a wobbly smile twitching on your lips. "Y-Yes! Yes, everything is fine, I promise."

Deciding to trust your words, NIran nods. "Alright, but you are more than free to tell me to get off if you want me to, okay?" He reminds you, wanting to ensure your comfort with him.

You nod again. "I know. I will, I promise." You reassure him, only then does he become content with your answer and step forward to return your back against his chest and his arms around your waist. His chin props itself onto your shoulder, and you quietly return to the pot in front of you.

The silence lasted long enough for the blush on your cheeks to dissipate, tension mostly leaving your muscles. The butterflies in your stomach persistently flutter around, but you try to play it cool. Niran does not make this easy for you, a smirk curling onto his lips as he lifts his chin from its resting spot a little as his eyes meet yours from the side. "Don't tell me that you're falling for me."

A cruel soul your friend is, for the butterflies in your stomach spread throughout the rest of your body. Your shoulders rise from the tension, and your body whips around to face his. "Niran!!" You exclaim, the heat rising in your face drastically.

Your reaction makes him laugh, arms hovering over his stomach before one moves so that his hand rests on his hip. The other rises to his chin, metal fingers gently stroking it as he looks away to pretend to be pondering. "Hmm, well..it was only a matter of time, I suppose. Everybody falls for me eventually. I'm not surprised."

You laugh at his confidence and gently push him backwards before turning back to your shared dinner. An open-mouthed smile stretches its way onto his lips as he watches you, an amused huff passing through his nose before he folds his hands behind his back and steps forward. "So? Are you?" He questions further, a mischievous grin on his face that says that he's trying to pull more reactions out of you.

Instead of answering his question, you turn off the stove and grab two bowls from the cabinets next to you. You pour out two servings and hold one out to him. "Here, eat." You redirect him, the tan man letting out an elongated sigh before taking the bowl you offer to him and stomping to the couch.

You chat throughout the meal, and you swear that a conversation with Niran is never a conversation without laughter. He always knows the punchlines to make and just how to make them so that you'll remember it for weeks afterwards. Not a day goes by where he does not make you giggle at least once, and every time he is able to draw one from you, he feels accomplished. If making you laugh is the only thing that he will ever do right in this world, then he's okay with that.

After finishing dinner, you both return to studying. You worked relentlessly for hours, only taking one break to grab a snack and water without counting bathroom breaks. What happened while you were preparing dinner remained in the back of your mind the entire time that you worked. If you could have stayed in his arms like that forever, you would have without hesitation. His embrace brings a comfort that you long for every moment that you are not in it, and you believe that nothing can compare to it. It is warm, loving and everything you could ever want. None of this means that you're falling in love with him, though, right? His teasing rings around in your brain ruthlessly, a question that you're sure wasn't meant to be taken seriously, but now, it has seeped well past your physical body and latched onto your conscious.

Your head spins non-stop the closer all of these thoughts were to the front of your mind, so you decided to work even harder to try to ignore it. When Niran noticed that you were starting to get sleepy and almost nodding off to sleep, he told you to sleep in his bed. You insisted that you were fine, that you didn't need to sleep, and as much as he wanted to pick you up and throw you onto the bed to make you sleep, he resisted and decided to let you meet the consequences of your actions when you would wake up tomorrow with a sore neck and back. You eventually did pass out over the desk, head tucked in your arms snuggly.

Niran didn't notice that you had passed out until almost an hour after, his eyes drifting up from the book in his hands to check on you. Seeing you all tuckered out over his desk brings a smile to his face. You have always pushed yourself far past your limits, much like him. Maybe that's why the two of you are so good for each other, and why he likes you so much. You are one in the same, and you always take care of one another. When he needs someone to ramble to, you are his person, and when you are feeling down, he is the one that picks you up. More than anything, he loves you, and knowing that you are in it for the long haul brings him more joy than he could ever express to you.

He has been in love with you for a very long time. The teasing, the "jokes", the attention and affection that he gives you are very real, and he has been waiting for you to realize his feelings for a very long time. He hasn't told you yet for that reason, not to mention how funny he finds your obliviousness. The man sets his book onto the desk and stands from his seat, grabbing a big, fluffy blanket from his bed and returning to his seat. He slides right next to you and wraps the blanket around both of your shoulders comfortably. His arms rest crossed on the desk and adjusts the blanket on his shoulders a little before tucking his head against them closely, brown eyes taking the time to admire your sleeping face. Nothing could wipe away the lovesick smile on Niran's face as he is blessed with this moment, where he gets to cherish the peace that is designated for just the two of you. Curse the heaviness that weighs into his eyes as they slow to a close, for he wanted to look at you just a little bit longer before falling asleep.

You do not expect what you see when you awaken the next morning. Your eyes peel open to a familiar face, fast asleep directly in front of yours. It takes you a few seconds to realize how close Niran is to you, your spatial awareness clouded by sleepiness. But oh, once you recognize that there is no space between your faces, your cheeks are set ablaze. You are wide awake now, eyes blown completely open and body still as stone. Your instincts tell you to back up, but you are far too flustered to bring yourself to move. There's also part of you that doesn't really want to move. You have been in close proximity to Niran when you have cuddled before, but now, you can take the time to gaze at him uninterrupted. His sleeping face is relaxed and his hair falls into a pool of angel wing white behind his head. Compared to the smug persona that he dresses himself with on a daily basis, he looks serene in this moment. Oh, how you wish that you had the ability to stop time, because if you could, you would pause everything just so that you could look at him more.

…Fuck.

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d-criss-news · 2 months ago

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Darren Criss on Bringing Robot Love to Broadway With ‘Maybe Happy Ending’

Chances are the multi-talented Darren Criss is as cross-eyed as the rest of us are with the twists and turns his career has taken over the past 13 years. In 2009, he began in television with six years of Glee, playing the lead singer of the Warblers, and helping power a Warblers focused soundtrack album to Number 2 on the Billboard album chart. Then in 2018 he switched fromsinging to spree killing, giving a stunning, steel-plated performance as Andrew Cunanan in Ryan Murphy’s American Crime Story: The Assassination of Gianni Versace. That got him a Golden Globe and a Primetime Emmy and set people to thinking there might be a serious actor lurking inside that singer.

Before that could be settled, the singer reemerged, as a replacement in a Broadway revival of How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, raking in $4 million during his three weeks. That was followed with an Off-Broadway revival of Little Shop of Horrors at the Westside Theater and a stint in Hedwig and the Angry Inch at the Belasco Theater.

Two years ago, the actor was back when producer Jeffrey Richards hired him for some deep-dish David Mamet drama, American Buffalo. Now Richardshas returned Criss to the Belasco, and singing, for an original Broadway musical, Maybe Happy Ending—a very original musical, in that it’s about the love life of robots in Seoul circa 2064.

You’ll not find much of that Glee guy you know and love in the character Criss plays in Maybe Happy Ending, a lonely Helperbot robot who putters aimlessly about his tiny apartment, listens to jazz and devotes all his TLC to a favorite pot plant. That changes swiftly when a female form of Helperbot, Claire (Helen J Shen), drops by to borrow his charger. Sparks fly, then conversation, and inevitably a kind of amorous connection.

Despite the nuts and bolts, what we have here is basically a rom-com, with a charming book and score by a couple of NYU classmates.

Actually, there are two books and two scores, one in English, one in Korean. Will Aronson, 43, of New Haven, composed the music, and Hue Park, 41 of South Korea wrote the lyrics. Once they did that, they put their heads together and wrote “connecting tissue”—a play in praise of love’s rejuvenating effects. Even robots at the end of their warranty are susceptible.

Evidently, Hue won the toss because the Korean version premiered first—in Seoul, where the story is set—and proved to be such a success that stateside productions were put together. The English edition made its first U.S. appearance two years ago at Atlanta’s Alliance Theater, where The New York Times’ Jesse Green deemed it “Broadway-ready.” Thus, we now have a live-action robot show going strong on West 44th.

The terror of doing this kind of production, Criss confesses, is that actors are afraid they’ll look like cartoons of their character, taking big, blocky robot steps around the stage. “The show has no listed choreographer,” he tells Observer. But he feels he has that situation well in hand. He and director Michael Arden “have taken a particular interest in making sure the physicality is distinct,” he says. “And I’d be remiss not to mention a teacher at Juilliard, Moni Yakim, who had some Zoom discussion with us about this.

“It’s kind of a cocktail of those three things: Moni’s suggestions, Michael’s pursuit of perfection and my own interest in physical theater. It’s a skill set that I’ve never been able to utilize—at least to this level. When I was in college, I took a semester off so that I could study physical theater at the Accademia dell’Arte, the performing arts school in Arezzo, Italy.”

A cast of four inhabit the show: Dez Duron, Marcus Choi, Criss, and Shen. You may detect a little kinetic energy between Criss and Shen. That’s because they both attended the University of Michigan—albeit, not at the same time. “She graduated about two seconds ago, and I may have graduated a little longer ago than that,” concedes Criss.

“She graduated two years ago, and 10 years ago my name was up on the marquee at the Belasco Theater. And to be able to come back to the Belasco—but this time to share that billing with a fellow Michigan grad—is a very special moment for me. I’m now the upper-class man to the freshman of Helen J Shen. This is her Broadway debut. It’s a big moment for her, and getting to see her through that on stage—to call that a job is really a special thing for me.”

The enthusiasm Criss brings to the stage is practically palpable—and he still remembers where it came from: encountering Robin Williams at an impressionably early age in the 1992 animated Disney flick, Aladdin, in which his outrageous Genie-jiving was almost heart-stoppingly hilarious.

“I was probably six or seven—and I noticed how this audience connected with each other and with this Genie on the screen. I was very taken with that idea, and I wanted to give people what this Genie was giving them. Then, I found out the voice of that Genie was Robin Williams, who was such a prominent figure out in San Francisco, where I grew up. That made it an accessible concept: ’Oh, Mr. Williams is an actor. I’d like to be an actor, too.’ So I hopped right on it.”

#darren criss #observer #helen j shen #michael arden #robin williams #uofmichigan #maybe happy ending #maybe happy ending bway #press #nov 2024

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hanadulsetaad · 9 months ago

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"In the Warmth of Trust: A Promise Recalled" part 2

BANG CHAN X READER x stray kids

(part 1)

TYPE: ANGST, CHEATING, fluff

( i feel the ending is very cringe but this only came in my mind)

(also bang chan is an angel, this is just fictional)

When Chan broke up with you and you stopped eating or going out, your dream of mastering your studies turned to shit and you scored the lowest grade in your class. All you did was text Bang Chan and cry for him until he blocked you. When the results of your first semester came, you were broken. You couldn't believe that you let Chan's situation waste six months of your life and take away half of your dream college experience. You went to your grade professor and explained the whole situation. Luckily, your college had two batches a year: the December winter batch and the summer batch in June. Your professor asked you to reappear in the December batch, which was ideal. That winter batch changed your life. It's been seven years since Chan's situation. You just turned 30 and were actually preparing for the reunion of your undergraduate batch in Korea with Changbin. You and Changbin both became college professors: he was in the music department and you were a law professor.

Fast forward to the reunion. You met all of your friends, but then you heard Changbin yell, "OMG!" and you turned to see Bang Chan and Felix. You felt no emotions; you were just happy to see they were okay and doing well in life. Changbin dragged you to see your old group, and you instantly got deja vu when everyone in the group blocked you, including Changbin. When you saw Bang Chan and Felix, Felix looked at you in an apologetic way. He pushed Bang Chan and hugged you, saying, "I am sorry for everything. I didn't know you didn't dump Chan; it was Chan who dumped you." You just smiled at Lix and said, "What happened was in the past, let it go."

Before you could reply to Chan, Changbin, Hyunjin, and all of them started beating up Bang Chan and Felix. Both Chan and Felix left Korea and went back to Australia five months after you left Japan. They started their own company in Australia, and since they got busy, they lost touch with the whole group. All of you sat, and Felix asked you, "Y/N, you are the only one whose life is a mystery." All of them looked at you, and you said, "Really?"

Felix asked, "What happened after all that drama? I don't even know how you and the guys became friends again. I mean, when Changbin hyung called me to come for this meet up, he also mentioned how Bang Chan was the one who left you. NGL, I stopped talking to him for two months, but at the end, I had to talk since he was my partner." You smiled, "It's okay, Felix." Chan and Felix looked at you and asked, "So what were you up to in these years? You don't even have social media; you look different."

Y/N said, "Are you saying I got fat, Christopher Bang?" Changbin quickly said, "Hey, it's happy post-baby weight gain," and Bang Chan and Felix were shocked. Chan's disappointment was showing on his face with regrets. Felix got more excited and asked you about your life. You replied, "Well, when my college ended, I had to come back to Korea. After coming back, I was a guest lecturer and preparing for the assistant professor exams. While preparing, I suddenly bumped into Changbin, and he gave me the dirtiest look ever. I ignored him, and he made a comment, 'Look, cheater is back.' I was angry; I turned and hit him with my book and yelled at him, 'Me, cheater? Really, Changbin? Your friend was the one who broke up with me and at the same week got together with Sana, and I am a cheater?' That's when Changbin, Hyunjin, and I.N. all came to me and apologized. I never wanted to be friends with them again because they believed Chan, but everyone deserves a second chance, right?"

Felix said, "Hey, hey, you didn't tell us about your baby and your partner?" Y/N laughed, "Well, I met my 'husband' (the word 'husband' made Bang Chan's eyes more regretful) in Japan itself. I was roaming in the market street and spotted a familiar face. We both looked at each other, and you know, it was only six months after the breakup from Chan, and I got news that I had to repeat a semester. I was emotional, so I just looked at him and started crying." Felix interrupted, "Wait, wait, wait, so you knew him?" Y/N replied, "Yep, he was from our batch. He just stood there and comforted me."

Y/N: Well, after the meeting, I asked him not to talk to the gang about this since I wanted to talk to everyone directly. And since I was starting a new college, I didn't want people from the past to be back again. My husband and I talked to each other via FaceTime every day. He came to Japan for my graduation and asked me on a date.

Felix: Aww.

Y/N: But I said no. Haha, I actually didn't want to be in a relationship. I had zero trust. So, he waited for my answer for one year, and one day when I saw him taking care of me, I confessed to him. Since then, we are stronger than ever. We got married two years ago, and we just had a baby girl. My husband was the reason I improved my grades in college, and I believed in love again. He was my strength and pillar during my worst times. I thought I would never believe in happiness again.

Bang Chan was shattered. He couldn't even look at you in the eye because he realized you lost your friends and had to repeat a semester because of him, just because he wanted to fool around with Sana for a few weeks.

Felix asked Y/N, "Hey, show us a picture of your baby." Y/N showed him the picture, and he said, "OMG, she is so cute! She looks like a bunny." Lee Know yelled from the back, "Of course, she is cute; she is my daughter." Everyone looked back at Lee Know, who was holding your daughter, who was wearing a bear suit. Felix ran to Lee Know, and Lee Know thought felix was giving him a hug , but Felix just snatched your daughter from him and started taking selfies with her. While everyone was laughing, Chan went to Lee Know and said, "Thanks for taking care of Y/N." Lee Know said with a cold look, "You don't have to thank me." He made his way to the gang who were literally fighting each other to hold your and Lee Know's daughter. Bang Chan just stood there, watching you, Lee Know, and your daughter being the perfect family with your friends, and he found himself alone.

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nausikaaa · 2 months ago

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Six Sentence Books Sunday

hello y'all! i've been having a busy week, trying to get all my christmas shopping done before December even begins, because otherwise i know the entire month will escape me and i'll wind up realising i've missed someone on christmas eve. despite my efforts, i still haven't got anything for my dad- usually he's the easy one to buy for, but this year i'm just stumped.

i'm also putting my billy goat Hadrian out with the girls (Juno, Daisy, Lucy and Mina) in just under a week, but Daisy was getting pushed around and picked on, so i separated her last week so she can put on a little weight and relax beforehand, because if she's stressed, she may not come into season. then it snowed. goats are herd animals, they prefer to have company, so i made sure she could see the others through the fence, but it turns out she is absolutely loving having her warm little hut to herself while the others all share the big shed, while Hadrian has a corner of the hay shed to himself, with wickets keeping him from the hay.

flattering photos of the handsome chap and damsel in distress before the snow hit:

sorry for the ramble. anyway! writing! well... i haven't been doing much lately, to be honest. when i'm in a writing slump, i like to read instead, and i view it as putting words in my brain so that it can make it's own words. it also helps me pick out things i do and don't want to emulate in my own writing. so instead of sentences, here are six books I read this year which i took something from:

We Solve Murders by Richard Osman, from which I am taking that it's okay to just use "said" instead of using a billion synonyms, as it blends in to the background and allows the story to flow more naturally. unless the way something is said is really relevant, it's better to show a character's feelings another way.

American Hippo by Sarah Gailey, which has such easy to follow yet engaging action and fight scenes, which I aspire to.

Home Fire by Kamila Shamsie, which had me sobbing inconsolably at the end. if a book prompts a physical reaction in me, that's an instant 5 stars. it's based on the ancient greek play Antigone, and though you don't need to know the play to enjoy the book, it really does deal an additional sucker punch to know how that story ends and yet hope so desperately the whole time: maybe it will turn out okay this time? a masterclass of foreshadowing and implication, somebody can literally die and it go unsaid, but you will know and it will destroy you.

Alcestis by Katherine Beutner. I hated this book. Plot? I barely know her. Consent? What's that? Resolution? Nah, pass. I learned what not to do from this garbage.

Percy Jackson: Wrath Of The Triple Goddess by Rick Riordan. I actually read both of the new pjo books that came out this year and honestly, they've shown me that sometimes a book can just be fun. There's no world ending drama, but still emotional moments and tension, and the whole story takes place over a matter of days. It doesn't have to be perfect, it can just be a good time.

The Amber Fury by Natalie Haynes. As somebody who writes a lot about grief, this book really helped with that by depicting it in such a raw and honest way, allowing the audience to connect with it even if they've never experienced the kind of loss the main character has. I do draw on my own experiences, but this helped me put it into words. It also shows how healing is always possible, no matter how severe the grief, so long as you have the right support system, something I am still muddling through.

an invitation to share some sentences or some books: @forabeatofadrum @cutestkilla @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @prettygoododds @bookish-bogwitch @ic3-que3n @blackberrysummerblog @j-nipper-95 @youarenevertooold @larkral @that-disabled-princess @orange-peony @aristocratic-otter @thewholelemon @alexalexinii @confused-bi-queer @shrekgogurt @comesitintheclover @raenestee @hushed-chorus @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @noblecorgi @shemakesmeforget @ileadacharmedlife @supercutedinosaurs @artsyunderstudy @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 and @ninemagicks

#six sentence sunday #my goats

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empvrealities · 3 days ago

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@ ! DR𖤓NA’S LOGBOOK ;

drana , 23 , she / they . asks ok !

( last updated : jan 9, ’25. )

hi, hello, hi !! i’m adriana, but please feel free to call me 𝓭.rana — that is the ( nick ) name i go by online and the one i’m most comfortable with. i am a linguistic & intercultural mediation graduate aspiring to get into audiovisual / multimedia translation & dialogue adaptation; fluent in italian ( mothertongue ) and english especially, i know my way around a spanish dictionary but completely fail wherever french is involved. funny, but i promise this has nothing to do with the french. love and hate you guys.

interests of mine include procedural dramas ( for the love of all that is holy guys watch fringe, nobody knows or talks about it and idc it is a crime in my book ), broadway / musicals, behavioural analysis, criminology, horror ﹢ thriller genre, text–based roleplay ( guilty pleasure ), hozier, arctic monkeys, chase atlantic, dog training & equestrianism. the autumn–ish, winter–ish vibe ? love it. absorbed it into my very being. i am it & it is me. i am that one brownish, reddish leaf that refuses to let go of the branch & holds on for dear life. the cup of warm, sweet chocolate that warms your hands on the coldest of afternoons, but especially the too hot to handle cup of coffee that you throw on your enemies out of pure spite, because why the hell not. i am also ( very obviously ) all over the place. i’m trying to be funny. or interesting. some of you guys may say i’m very much not funny. nor interesting. ( rude. but maybe fair ? )

⁎* 𓆃 *⁎

though i haven’t been involved with the shifting community prior to like, 2023, i have been lurking around shifttok since early 2020, mid–quarantine. yes, i somehow managed to survive early shifttok & shook off all of the misinfo that stubbornly clung to me like second skin for the better part of three years ( yikes. ) tiktok–wise, i’ve fallen back to old lurking habits. i don’t know if i’ll ever pick that account back up. but i heard good things about the tumblr side of the community ( better than both shifttok & shifttwt at least ); & i missed having a safe space to chat everything shifting–related in. my inbox & asks for this blog are open & are to remain so. please feel free to drop whatever in there. ♡

dni : basic dni criteria ( racists, lgbtphobes, misoginists, zionists... you know who you are. don’t be weird ), anti–shifters & non–shifters. if you don’t like who i’m shifting for ( nobody problematic, dw ) just don’t interact. for your own safety & mine, i will not be following or interacting with any minors.

✡ ❛ supernatural @ the third winchester, 25. ( wo ) man of letters, ¾ of team free will. the middle child ( kinda ) & sam’s twin sister — older by like five minutes. rest assured i play the “older sibling” card every chance i get. insufferable ? he deserves it. ⁎ i’m what the angels define a blessed child, imbued with angelic grace and endowed with angelic–like abilities. castiel’s charge and lover. whoops, i guess ?

main tag: #✳ᬊ：the family business﹒

↪ post masterlist.

✡ ❛ criminal minds @ the bau’s specialist in cult & ritualistic crimes ﹢ victim advocacy, formerly an officer for the los angeles police department ( lapd )’s k–9 unit. 29, italian–american. raised by rossi & his ( late ) first wife in my sick, constantly in–and–out of the hospital mother’s stead. my biological father is out of the picture ( read as: stuck behind prison bars. ) ⁎ dynamics with the team are all fine & dandy. then again, reid may just be the one honest to god bane of my existence. hate him, love him, love to hate him & hate to love him. or however it goes.

fun fact — when not busy with bau–related work, i’m in charge of overseeing the fbi’s k–9 dogs’ training. because... hell yeah ?

main tag: #✳ᬊ：wheels up in 30﹒

↪ post masterlist.

✡ ❛ supernatural x criminal minds @ john’s bastard daughter & half–sister to the winchesters. from a mol family before the mol "disbanded". fbi agent & unit chief of the prd ( preternatural research & defense ) unit, successors to the american men of letters. specialist in undercover ops, linguistics ( enochian ), demonology ﹢ werewolf lore, tracking, hunting. called to deal with violent cases where the supernatural ﹢ hunters are suspected to be involved & tasked to "protect" its existence while eradicating the problem at its source. without alerting the general population, nor local law enforcement.

crossover drs are fun. they are. huh-uh. really.

main tag: #✳ᬊ：confidential﹒

↪ post masterlist.

✡ ❛ yellowstone @ a cozier experience than what’s seen in the show, for all of my western & cattle–driving & horse–taming dreams. fourth dutton child & youngest daughter, one of three barrel racers competing for the ranch ( my main mount is a palomino ahq mare ) & kennel manager of the dutton border collies, also situated on the ranch’s land, where we raise and train our working stockdogs. a blood feud between my s/o’s family & mine makes for a nice romeo & juliet trope — minus the deaths.

main tag: tba.

↪ post masterlist.

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aussiepineapple1st · 2 years ago

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How long? (Part 3)

Leon x F!Reader

Words: 2,554 Contains: Fluff, Comfort, Cute Husband Leon, Killing Lycan.

Part 1 | Previous | Next

Waiting outside Room 9, you stand with the folders to your chest, eyes locking with Leons once he closed the door and turns towards you.

"What was that all about?" You ask with one brow raised, your body language telling Leon he better not lie because you would call him out immediately.

"I was asking if you could be put here in the office for a couple of years." He shrugged, fingers fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves.

You sigh through your nose, closing your eyes as your posture becomes less authoritative. "Leon, I appreciate you trying, but we both know it's for nothing." You say giving him a sad smile. Things may be different when you were showing, but right now, you were still the governments lapdog and they didn't care about this kind of thing. Not with mass Bioterrorism at stake. You reach out to him and point a finger on his chest, curious as to why your finger was there he looks down. Bringing your finger up to flick his nose you then turn away.

"Come on, big guy. We have a plane to catch." You sniggered, feeling proud that you had just got Leon S. Kennedy with the oldest trick in the book. Albeit you did it on rare occasions so when you would actually trick him he wouldn't be expecting it.

Leon rubs his nose as he watches you walk towards the hallway you had only just walked down. Taking a slightly different rout to the front of the building your car ride was waiting for you, Leon opening the door for you he slides in after.

-----

Some small banter is had on your way towards the airport, talking about what you think the meals will be on the flight and teasing Leon on whether he will sleep on the plane or not. You made it through customs with no dramas, unlike last time when they had a new security guard who didn't know your faces. He had taken you both to a room and not believing your documentation from the President allowing you to carry your weapons. Neither of you blamed the poor boy, he didn't seem to have been taught about federal agents, especially not your kind. Why would he? The government tried to cover up what you dealt with anyway.

He didn't seem to be there today, you would have liked to say hello to him, because he was such a cute kid after all. Fresh eyed, loved his job. What you wouldn't give to enjoy what you did and have that much energy again.

You and Leon were always in business class, there would be rare moments when you wouldn't be. Not that you or Leon minded being in economy, you had both been in far more uncomfortable situations in your life. It made economy seem like heaven sometimes. Once in the air Leon had taken the folders and was going through everything, making sure he wasn't missing out on any information Hunnigan may have left out. She was good at her job though, and hardly any of the information had been left out by her during their briefing.

The plane was now dark, your seat laid back in a semi-reclined position, Leon had the light shining on him from above, going over the reports. Chris had never said he was dealing with something this big, they could have helped much earlier if he had just let them know. Though his friend had been acting distant lately, not that he blamed him with all the men he had lost over the years. Now dealing with this new Mold on his own though? It was too much pressure for just a small squad, no matter how skilled they may be.

"Leon?" Your voice croaked out as you sat up, your hand gently resting on his forearm.

Turning to you he placed the reports on the table in front of him, a hand coming to rest over yours. "What's wrong?" His eyes searched your features.

"You should get some sleep before we land, who knows how long it may be until we get to have a rest." You say with a worried look in your eyes. You could tell he hadn't got any with how dark and bloodshot his eyes were. "Your poor old man eyes need rest."

Leon could only huff a chuckle at your calling him old. "Fine. I'm just wondering why Chris never told us, we could have brought this to the President's attention sooner." He said packing everything up and placing it in a small carry-on bag you both shared.

"I'm not sure. We've spoken with him in the past year, right?" You were sure you had spoken with him a few months ago and don't remember him mentioning anything about the job he was working on.

Leon gives a nod and reclines his own seat back to meet yours, pulling his arm rest up to hide between the seats so you could snuggle into his side. Resting your head on his bicep as he holds you close. "I think he just wants to keep distant, probably doesn't want to see any more people he knows in the ground."

"I suppose... Men." You scoff.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Leon turned his head to you.

"You're all the same, letting your personal emotions get the better of you. You try to be tough so no one else gets hurt, but in the end you are the ones who break from pressure." You elaborate. Leon turns his head to look back up at the ceiling, the loud humming of the engines further back in the plane making a calming white noise. You were right, painfully accurate too. You pull your arm from being pinned at your chest and rest it over Leon's, his own hand coming to rest over yours, his fingers curling under your palm. Now that his mind was slightly stiller than the past few hours it started to hit him.

Hearing him sniff and chest under your hand jump slightly, your neck lifts up with alarm. "Why are you crying?" Your words weren't THAT impactful, surely?

"I'm gonna be a dad." He sobbed silently, his hand that was holding yours rests over his eyes.

You couldn't help the wide smile that pulls on your lips, your hand now rubbing over his chest to comfort him. "Yeah.. You are."

-----

Over the few more hours you had in the air, Leon did actually sleep. Not much, but it was enough to make you happy he had rest in his body. Breakfast was served on the plane, but Leon also grabbed something from inside the airport. You had a rental car waiting for you to take from the airport's parking lot. You drove while Leon gave you directions, you don't know if you could handle looking at something in a moving car right now.

Heading deep into the mountains, sometimes making your own path as the ground was littered with snow and a road wasn't always visible. Finally coming to a stop. "I think this is as far as we can get..." You say leaning on the steering wheel, looking around at all the dead, black trees that were a stark contrast to the pure white snow on the ground and currently falling from the sky.

"Yeah. I think you're right." Leon starts to fold up the map and puts on gloves as he opens the door and walks around to your side. You were also currently putting on gloves, turning the key in the car, but leaving it in the ignition. Opening your door, Leon holds out his hand for you to take, not wanting you to slip on the fresh snow. Taking your husband's hand not thinking anything of it, as he had done this action more times than you could count. But it doesn't go unthanked.

"Thanks. We should see if we can get in touch with Hunnigan while we are here. See if the comms work and if she can patch us through to Chris?" You say stepping aside for Leon to close the door as you rug your jacket around your body, pulling the string around your waist tight.

Reaching his hand to his left ear the piece in your own ringing. "Condor and Owl to Roost, Do you copy?"

"Roost to Condor and Owl, What's your sitrep?" Her voice responds in both of your left ears.

"We are as far into the mountains as we can drive, we believe we're close to HWS' base of operations. Do you think you can patch us through to their Alpha?" Leon asks turning on a torch and looking through the dark forest, keeping you in the corner of his eye as you walk ahead slightly.

You shine your torch around, the light only reflecting off the snow, making you shine it up further into the trees. You see something reflect, causing you to double back over it, your hand reaching for your gun strapped to the side of your right leg. You weren't fast enough as it was already on top of you. Large hands around your throat push you to the soft snow you were shin deep in.

"HRK!!" Your body automatically lets out as you were buried. Leon pulling his own gun out and aiming carefully, he couldn't see you, but assumed you were under this thing's body. Shooting at it's head the male-like creature leaps off you and was about to launch itself at Leon when it's head was shot at again with an assault rifle. Turning his head to the side he saw a dark figure standing in the snow, lowering the weapon.

He puts a hand to his ear. "Yeah.. I found them."

"Chris, good timing, as always." Leon said walking over the body and to you who was sitting up out of the snow. Spitting and brushing away to frozen water off your already chilled face.

"Are you alright?" Leon asked bending down and lifting you to your feet. This earned a head tilt and squint from Chris, walking over to meet the both of you.

"Has she suddenly become fragile?" Chris points out, normally he would have let you stand up yourself. Ask if you were okay and then that would be it, but he had actively helped you to your feet. Were you injured and needed help?

"Yes, well.. No? Um.."

"I'm pregnant, not a percaline doll, Leon." You say brushing off your dark coat.

"Pregnant? Congrats, but what are you doing here then?"

"My job." You seemed to have had enough at the moment, tired and then being shoved in the snow by the throat, not a good start. You search for your gun that had slipped from your hand from being too slow to draw it, slamming your boot into the head of the creature as you pass it. Just to get your frustration out.

Both Leon and Chris wince at the action, Chris raising his brows to Leon who just shrugged a silent answer. "Have you spoken to the head of your organisation?" Chris asked Leon, who's hands rest on his hips at the question.

"Yeah.. He won't allow her to work in the office, I'll have to notify the president when I see him next."

"Why are you making the decisions for me?" You asked placing your gun in it's holster on your leg. "But I think it's the best bet we have of keeping it in me that way." Yes, you wanted to make the decision yourself, but Leon was right. You needed to be keeping your baby safe, not out on the field. Right now though, you had a job to do, and you intended on doing it.

Chris takes the both of you to their small camp, a few tents set up. One with medical supplies and a medic, two with bedding and a fourth with a scientist working on samples the team would acquire from the creatures and any Mold or parasite they would come across. A fire in the middle had 3 of his squad sitting around, eating some stew that hung beside the flames.

"Help yourself to some food." Chris offered as he sat down on a stump, picking up his own bowl he had placed aside once getting Hunnigan's call. "I was only notified a few hours ago that you had landed to help out."

You nod as Leon makes himself at home, picking up a bowl and starting to ladle stew into it. "We were recently notified of what was going on here as well, seems like you found more of the Mold, correct?" You asked sitting down beside the fire to warm up.

"Yeah, we traced it back to here, and to a new threat who calls herself Mother Miranda." Chris explains. "We've been keeping close tabs on the Winters family, as well as Miranda. Ethan and Mia seem to be doing fine, their baby Rose, is the one we have been keeping tabs on."

"The baby? Why her?" Leon asked, sitting down beside you with his food.

"Miranda has had this sick obsession to bring her own daughter back, we found a lab with her own research and personal files. With being infected by the Mold previously, we suspect she would try targeting their offspring as a perfect candidate."

You were silent for a while, watching the flames dance in the darkening light. The moon obscured by the clouds still letting the snow fall. It made sense she would want to be going after the baby if that was the case. "We will be checking in on the family tomorrow morning, I would like both of you to come. Maybe you could help us pick up some of this mess?"

"That's why we were sent here." You nod standing up and placing a hand on Leon's shoulder, using him to step over the log you were sitting on. "I'm going to head to bed." You state as you make your way towards the tent you and Leon had a sleeping bag each. Luckily they had many spare supplies. Taking off your boots you slip into the sleeping bag, it took a little while for it to warm up to your body temperature. Huddled in a ball you were soon accompanied by your husband, being silent in case you were asleep.

"This Miranda sounds like a handful, huh?" You speak up.

"Sorry, didn't mean to wake you." Leon apologised as he snuggles up beside you, hoping to share his body warmth with you.

"I wasn't asleep." You say rolling to your back, your head turned towards Leon.

"You okay? You didn't eat anything."

"I just didn't feel hungry. You need to stop worrying about me, honey."

"I know.." Leon cranes his neck to press a kiss to your cool tipped nose. "I just don't like the fact that you're here."

"I know... Neither do I. But it sounds like if we can take down this Miranda bitch, and get rid of any parasite we should be golden."

"Let's hope it's that easy." Leon said snuggling into his sleeping bag, laying on his side facing you. You snuggle into his front, both of you falling asleep quickly after warming up.

Part 1 | Previous | Next

🏷️: @phoenix666stuff @maehemthemisfit @greywardensaywhat @growingupnrealizing @starcrossedreaders

#aussiepineapple1st #cadou #chris redfield #ethan winters #how long?#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon x f!reader #leon x fem!reader #leon x female reader #leon x reader #lycan #mia winters #mold #re village #re8 #resident evil #resident evil village #rose winters

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vonpharma · 7 months ago

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ok, well, this is kind of ridiculous and sad, but the husband of one of the sicktember mods is now harassing me on my personal blog for giving some pretty lukewarm criticism of the event in the past few years. i have not picked fights with anyone or tried to incite any kind of ire myself, just been professional and upfront with how much it's sucked to fall out of love with my favourite writing event. i sadly deleted the more vitriolic response i got from them, but here is what they left on my post:

again, i cannot stress enough, i have not contacted the mods in any capacity! i have not left any tags on their posts, i have not interacted with them except last year to ask permission for a spinoff blog, all my thoughts & feelings have just been on my personal blog.

in 2022, i filled every prompt for sicktember, totalling at 92 thousand words total. in 2023, i did the same, at 118 thousand words. i adore this event, so much so that i complete it every year despite my busy work schedule. it has always been my absolute favourite--the accessibility of it, the community, the prep time, writing with people who love the fic trope as much as i.

i am not just some rando. i am not just some bad actor, here to incite drama. i am a fan of this event who has been consistently supportive and celebratory, using my large following to both plug said event and rope my many servers and friends into it. in fact, in 2022, my friends and i wrote more fills for our fandom than any other:

that is us. i counted, and only 4 of the fills in the aa tag are by people not in my immediate friend circle.

i love this event enough i have physical books of all our fills:

...and this isn't even all of them, this is just how many i could afford to make at the time. i don't know how to prove that i am a savant for this event, and a passionate supporter. not from day one, as i didn't know of it until 2022... but definitely for the long-haul.

it is really unfortunate that this is the response the fans of this event are getting. in my initial post i talked about how resistant to feedback the event runners are are, but now we are getting full-on attacks if we don't blindly worship every aspect of said event and kiss the event runners' feet.

a word to the wise: when you run an event, it is not so black and white. it is not just two sides, where one is "i am spending time and effort on this thing i love and how to best share it with others, so i do not owe them anything." and the other is "i must bend to the whims of everything my fellows ask!" there is nuance in the middle, where you can keep firm in your ideals, protect your free time, and still listen to what your community is saying. compromise is a wonderful skill to learn.

either way, sending your friends & family to pick fights with the disappointed or barely critical fans of your event on their personal blogs is wretched behaviour regardless. i am not interested in petty internet arguments with people. i am interested in making my feelings known with the hope that maybe something can be changed. whether that be that the mods loosen up to community feedback & try to open a dialogue, or some folks who feel similarly to me take it as inspiration to make their own sickfic-centric prompt event, or nothing happens at all--it doesn't matter.

but this is literally my personal blog. where i post my personal feelings. if you don't like them, ignore them, scroll past them, block me if you must.

i have 3000 words of sicktember prep in another window and wholeheartedly plan to attempt my best to stick to my record of doing every single fill and having a blast. but if another event comes along, and the mods of this one don't intend to change how they interact with their fans, it won't really be a contest where i go from there.

this is not a call for harrassment, please do not act unkind or bother anyone involved here, i'm just sad man. and i figure if people are gonna start attacking more outspoken members of the community, y'all might want their usernames to block.

as always, i will keep on writing for you guys.

#txt #this is so fucking depressing.

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espresseo-cafe · 1 year ago

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life is still beautiful | johnny | ch.8

genre: cappucino, romance, angst, university!au, dad!au, drama, slice of life

pairing: collegestudent!johnny x fem!reader

bean count: 3.1k+

a/n: this has a crossover with @jae-canikeepyou ‘s series serenity in us 🤭 read that if you like, you’d love it 🤗 so now i’m back from hiatus! enjoy your coffee time 💚 note: this is only a work of fiction, it doesn’t reflect the artists’ personalities in any way.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“how are you coping?” was one of the last messages johnny had sent you. after your breakdown and asthma attack, he didn’t send you any more, just short ones as he was planning his baby thesis together with kun on psychology. he also had to do his paediatric studies on saturdays.

besides, you guys were entering to your final year very soon.

you decided to give him space, you as well needed to catch up with your own (being at the library at the moment)- even though it was stressful enough to have your parents by the ends of your hair strands most of your life. it was habitual, you guessed.

it was also ironic because even though you dislike shoving your face in books and research papers, you found yourself kind of listening to their orders of studying hard.

but you soon realised you were doing this for yourself, not for them.

somehow you wished you never agreed to meet them that day. you just ended up disappointed and hurt like you always had.

your phone rang when you just quickly put it down, receiving mean glares and shushes from the people around the table. taking your stuff and shoving them in your bag, you ran out of the library and called back the person who conveniently decided to embarass you.

“you just love to distract me, do you, johnny?” placing your phone between your ear and shoulder, fixing the heel of your socks.

a soft chuckle heard from the other line, a voice you kinda want to hear. “because i know you will be. want to go for coffee? i finished my project so i can meet you at the atrium.”

“please, i got homework to finish.” you dramatically told him, turning to your left then walking down the stairs.

“hm, interesting.” he hummed, “if you got homework to finish then why did you change your path down the stairs?”

you halted as you almost set foot to the atrium’s entrance. looking up, he was there by the railings.

“i see i got a stalker.”

“the one and only.” johnny smiled and waved at you from the balcony before going down the stairs to meet you.

placing your phone in your pocket when he stood in front of you, you laughed, “dear me, do i need to call the police?”

he wrapped his arms around your shoulder, “please don’t. besides you owe me coffee, it’s been a week.”

you slapped his chest lightly. what’s with him and coffee? “dude that’s what you’ve been wanting to do? don’t you have cash?”

“i spent it on youngmin’s medicine. little dude can’t keep still, always running around until he caught fever. but he does get regular check-ups.” he sighed, “medicine should be free, especially for kids.”

as you walked to the coffee shop at the next street, you concluded that maybe it was why johnny took paediatrics, to monitor youngmin’s health.

johnny was on his final year of his double degree in psychology and paediatric studies, so his schedules were going to be busy. an idea came up to your mind. “say, why don’t i take him to the clinic for his checkup appointments? so you could focus on your studies.”

johnny’s slightly tired face lit up, “really? you can do that?” you nodded as you both entered the coffee shop, “that’s great, it’ll be a huge help.” looking at the drinks menu, he hummed. “you know what, drinks are on me today, i’m suddenly in a good mood.”

you giggled when he took out a five dollar bill on his hand, “so you can treat me coffee on days i take him for appointments, deal?”

“deal-“ johnny flicked his head to you, “-wait!”his hand got freed of cash when you took the bill and jogged to the counter. he stifled a laugh seeing you already pointing at your desired drink, smiling endearingly at you until you turned to him.

“johnny, come on here and choose yours!” gesturing for him to come closer, “they’ve got an offer of buy one get one free.”

little did you two know, you didn’t notice the presence of both rowoon and seungcheol seated at the very end of the coffee shop. rowoon thought that seungcheol’s little crush on you was too obvious. he wondered why after all this time, the guy never seemed to talk to you.

“for a jock like you, you’re someone who’s actually soft for the girl you like.” he munched on the scone he bought, seungcheol then shaking his thoughts off of his mind.

“so what do you want me to do?” the doe eyed asked, taking a sip from his latte.

rowoon smirked, checking a piece of a paper slip before giving it to seungcheol. “nothing actually. you can stay put for now, but hold onto this.”

“if this gets us into trouble, rowoon, you’ll know what you’ll get.” seungcheol warned him, taking the envelope from him as the boy stood up to leave.

“don’t worry, hyung. we got this.”

——

“no way! how come i just heard of this?” yoohyeon told you through the small screen, while you ate on ramyeon bought from the convenient store. she tutted her lips together, “hey y/n, is that all what you’ve been eating since i was gone for almost three weeks?”

“it’s my cheat day.” you slurped, wiping off excess soup from your cheek. “i’ve been studying my brain off, i need to de-stress somehow.”

yoohyeon whined playfully, “i want to de-stress too! the expectations here in paris is as high as the eiffel tower. but anyway, answer my question. so it’s still on the rocks with your parents?”

you hummed, not sure how to answer that just yet. “yeah definitely, can’t believe i’ve been stood up at the dinner.. well it’s not like it never happened to me.”

“well isn’t that great? there’s progress!” she sarcastically said because she knew how your relationship was with your parents. she then squinted her eyes. “then what about you and johnny? any progress in that?”

you coughed on a piece of noodle. “t-that, i don’t know. i heard he had an argument with his ex after youngmin’s party.”

“minji? after so long?” she questioned. “well, i hope she doesn’t give him a hard time. the guy’s moved on, given that his attention is so focused on you.”

you laughed a little, “who’s to say, it’s a little crush i have for him. there’s a fine line between falling in love and having a crush, you know? maybe it’s just admiration on my part. but him to me? i doubt it.” you felt a shuffle on the side as you placed the ramyeon on the table behind you, making yoohyeon tilt her head in question.

“did you get a puppy, y/n?”

“a cute one, actually.” shifting your phone for her to see clearly, youngmin snuggled next to you.

“oh, my, word.” she said dramatically, “you’re a certified mommy candidate for the little one. i’ve never seen him so close to anyone like that. johnny must love you to the point he trusted his son to you.”

“a: he doesn’t love me, and b: i offered to help him, alright? we’re not even gonna go there.” you shook your head, combing youngmin’s hair as he slept.

yoohyeon took a snap of that, sending it to johnny immediately. “oh isn’t it time for you to bring him to his appointment? it’s almost 1pm.”

“yes and you’ll be late for class.” you reminded her, “make me proud, yoohyeon. i helped you with your thesis, don’t put it waste.”

hearing you say that made her laugh so early in the morning. “it’s 6am here but roger that, momma!~” waving a goodbye before signing off.

you turned your phone off, putting your legs off of the sofa. then youngmin woke up and wiped his eyes, “mama i’m warm.”

you flicked your head to the boy, chuckling and patting his cheek. “it’s auntie y/n, youngmin.” he sat up and yawned, asking for a hug and you carried him, soon taking your leave to the clinic. “you’re going to get better.”

the little toddler was tired the whole time, and that worried you. wearing the carrier, you placed him facing you while he slept once more. the cooling patch on his forehead wasn’t doing any good to put his temperature down. he actually cried quite a bit on the way so you put a dummy on him, and thankfully he didn’t cause too much of a scene on the train.

stepping in the clinic, you suddenly saw your long time friend, jungkook. his eye smile never failed to be so contagious. “ah noona! you’re here again?”

“yeah, i need to be here for this little one. my friend’s son.” you ruffled his hair, and jungkook poked his cheek.

“he’s adorable! oh and guess what? i’m assisting the renowned dr. jung yunho tomorrow, i just finished meeting up with him.” his bunny smile showing.

you gave him a high-five, you were really proud of him. “nice on you sophomore, it’s gonna look good on your resume once you do your residency and fellowship.”

jungkook just scratched his head, blushing red. “it’s still a long ways to go, noona.” checking his watch, he gasped at the time. “and i don’t want to be late. catch up soon?”

you nodded and gave him a wave, “sure.”

the reception was close by and you confirmed youngmin’s booking. the nurse had to double check if you were the parent, and you clarified that you were substituting the child’s father, who couldn’t make it in the scheduled appointments and showed her the documents with johnny’s signature.

“i actually thought you were the mother. because mr. suh comes here alone often, other than the grandparents. so i got my hopes up when i recognised youngmin with a young lady. sorry about that.” she noted, giving you an apologetic smile.

“it’s not a problem, i haven’t met the mother as well so i guess we’re on the same page.” you smiled a bit, and took a pen from your bag, signing the check-in sheet.

“oh excuse me miss, you dropped something.” one intern next to the nurse pointed down while you muttered a thank you.

it was the extra coupon you had from all the coffee breaks you had with johnny. maybe i should use this later. so you placed it back again to use it again. slowly standing up, you removed youngmin from the carrier while the nurse took him in for a little check up before the actual appointment with dr. yunho.

“miss y/n!” you heard a little squeal, and it was one that you recognised so well. “long time no see!”

“hi liam!” you bent down to have a short chat. “are you here for a check up with the doctor?”

the kindergartener nodded quickly like he was so proud of it. “yes, i got a scratch on my face and on my leg because i fell.” you told him to be careful and he just pouted, saying that he would. he turned around to lady who called him, saying that they had to leave.

at the same time, you were called in by dr. yunho. you patted his hair and bid him goodbye. standing up, you were faced with a lady, who was around your age. must be liam’s mother.. you thought. but who were you to judge?

liam jumped as he left the hospital, whining that he was hungry. “can we go to mcdonald’s, auntie minji?”

she held his tiny hand, “of course, you did really well at the checkup.”

“then can you carry me there, please?” he pleaded, making puppy eyes to convince her, only for her to disagree.

“no can do, liam.” she poked his little nose and teased him. “you know auntie isn’t that strong like a superhero.”

after youngmin’s checkup, you were thankful that he didn’t need to be confined in the hospital. on the other hand, you were so dazzled by dr. yunho, how could someone be so handsome and smart at the same time? it was funny how he opened up so quickly, even mentioning that he had brothers who went to the same university as you- currently year one and year four. it didn’t feel like an appointment at all because of how he conversed.

youngmin seemed to have gotten used to being at the doctor’s, after the fact johnny told you that he used to cry a lot about it. and speaking of him, you got a call, just in time.

“hey y/n, i’m on my way there with bosco, we’ll drop him off at mom and dad’s first, then i owe you coffee again, is it the third time this month? anyway see you both in five minutes.”

you lit up, “sure, we’ll wait here.”

it took about five minutes for him to arrive. talk about consistency: another box ticked on your checklist. he came out of the car to help carry youngmin, while you got on after.

the nurses who saw this from the clinic had their hearts swooned in various places. johnny was young but the way he handled everything made him so mature.

“daddy material..” the intern’s eyes twinkled while she clasped her hands together.

“get back to work, rookie.” the nurse sighed.

“what? you were staring at him too, hypocrite.” she pouted.

as youngmin rested at his grandparents’ place, you and johnny made your way to the coffee shop. patters of rain drummed the windows and johnny sighed when he looked above. “i swear this is like the worse summer ever, it’s been raining for days.”

“can’t help it though. it was scorching hot as well. besides, fall is on the way, in a few weeks?” you stretched your neck and your back from side to side. the feeling of cracked bones was such a relief that johnny glimpsed at you back and forth and scrunched his face.

“sorry, you must’ve been tired from bringing youngmin to the clinic for three weeks.” he stopped the vehicle at the red light.

“it’s okay, it’s workout for me to carry him.” you snickered. as you said that, the rain gradually grew a bit stronger. so you looked up as well, and you didn’t like how it reminded you of the past.

it used to be about your parents, it still was, besides text messages you hadn’t heard any apologies from them at all. and that upsetted you.

another thing was the accident, you haven’t even came into terms with it. you still remembered the impact, the screeches from its tires, the way you flew, and the way you thought everything gone in a blink. it felt like it was yesterday.

johnny knew at one look that you were still processing everything that happened. it was something he wanted to help you overcome but he also knew it was a long journey and that it doesn’t just disappear overnight.

so an idea came up to him, he hoped you were up for it, and he hoped he was right. you felt the vehicle turn sharply to a corner. johnny turned the engine off, “y/n, let’s go out right now.”

your raised eyebrow made him want to laugh but he knew you would love this. “um, are you crazy? it’s raining cats and dogs outside, johnny.”

he just grinned at you. “i maybe am. but with a little bit of play in the cold of ‘cat and dog’ rain, you might just be crazy with me.” he got off the car and ran into the rain, hollering and spinning around.

your eyes widened, frantically turning your head around to check if people noticed him. reaching for the handle, you stared at the rain once more, hands shaking anxiously. should you go out once again?

“awooo!” johnny continued to shout and laugh. you stared at him deadpan, this was embarrassing.

you sighed, “johnny!” the secondhand embarassment you got from him was unbelievable. you ran towards him and stopped him from whatever he was doing. “what are you doing?”

“oh? the puppy chased me and stopped me.” he laughed and you just blinked your eyes in confusion. “cats.. dogs.. rain..? you and me? don’t you get it?”

“johnny, cats don’t howl.” you crossed your arms, finally getting what he meant. “let’s go, before we get sick.”

he didn’t say anything and pulled your arm, “i know you hate the rain but…” he trailed off, taking two pairs of airpods. putting one pair to your ears before he put another into his, he played one of coldplay’s biggest hits, and the song that calmed you down- a sky full of stars.

“let’s have some fun.”

the piano melody and the vocals filled the intro, johnny’s head started to follow the beat and sang. and naturally you followed, singing as well. the familiar music slowly building up. when it reached to the one minute and eighteenth mark, as if you and johnny shared the same braincells, started to jump in the rain.

he held your hand and twirled you around, then suddenly doing a crumping move on this medium-paced song, made you laugh. you’d say it out loud that johnny was a good dancer. it even showed when the next song- adventure of a lifetime, was next in queue.

that was where you confirmed he was groovy, pulling a little genre of modern swing. not that you knew how to do that certain dance pairing, but the music and johnny’s energy just made you dance with the flow.

his guided his hands to yours, leading you with his twists and turns. and in parts were the music were on a slight drop, he led you to follow him on certain easy steps.

you also had your share in adding steps and iconic movements, putting a little michael jackson moonwalk in it. johnny pointed at you in surprise, even in earphones, you could hear his laugh.

johnny and yourself probably looked like idiots dancing in the rain on the road towards the highway. but to the both of you, it was special, as you were dealing with heartbreaks in different aspects. music was definitely a de-stresser.

johnny looked at you with admiration. as you danced away in the rain, he felt like he was witnessing something beautiful. though the music was playing, he could hear his heart beating. and his eyes widened when the lyrics mirrored what he was feeling:

“now i feel my heart beating, i feel my heart underneath my skin, oh, you make me feel like i’m alive again.”

he smiled endearingly, he knew he was so attracted to you. he knew you had space in his heart, and he’d gladly give it to you.

you turned around, hair flicking slowly, then your eyes met.

and it was when he realised fully,

that he was starting to fall in love with you.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

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