#but yeah i could go on for days about how brainless this whole concept is but i wont

[gunsatthaphan]

me carefully checking twitter to see if the LOL cringefest is over and I can resume my normal online activity

[ateezmakemeweep]

playing with fire (part 1)

word count: 23k

fluff, smut (warning: age gap, infidelity, roommate’s father)

(series masterlist)

“is there any other way you could pay?” the woman behind the desk asked, stout and soft spoken with sympathy in her eyes.

she probably has to have this conversation with students a lot, tell them that their tuition payment didn’t go through or that they’re not eligible for government support.

or that the athletics department needed more scholarship money, successfully rendering you, one of the many photography majors on campus, unable to pay for your last semester of college.

“a loan of some sort or another scholarship, maybe?” she tried to help, “i could send over an e-mail of ones you might be eligible for.”

you swallow the lump forming in your throat, attempting to calm all the anxiety and stress violently making its way through your body.

“y-yes, that would be great, thank you,” you barely manage to get out, hoping and praying to some unknown force above that you don’t burst into tears.

you were nearing the end of the fall semester, the last fall semester you ever anticipated of having, when you found out just last week that you were no longer eligible for your scholarship.

in a short, curt e-mail explaining that, while you kept up your gpa and never strayed from the requirements, they’ve maxed out their amount of funding and are looking to use that money elsewhere.

“can they do that!?” your best friend and roommate of four years yelps, gucci sunglasses atop her head as she stomps around your shared, off-campus apartment.

“they can’t seriously do that! you’ve been a straight a student since you started and now they wanna take it away?! before your last semester of senior year?!”

“eunbi, it’s not ideal but i’ve already come to terms with it,” you explain gently, leaving out the part where you did, in fact, have a break down right outside the bursar office only an hour ago. “i’ll just save up money and come back in the fall to finish.”

“that’s so not right or fair though!” she whines, something about the concept of not getting what she wants unfamiliar to your roommate.

you first met park eunbi during freshmen move in day, your two raggedy luggages and beat up backpacks an embarrassing contrast to the multiple louis vuitton travel bags she lunged in.

you were intimidated for all of three seconds, before she looked at you with a smile and threw her arms around you like a long lost best friend.

it was obvious she came from money, the way she spoke and carried herself so confidently before her parents came in and introduced themselves.

they were both gorgeous and tall and looked far too young to have an 18-year-old daughter, covered in fancy jewelry and expensive looking clothing.

her dad, who introduced himself as mr. park seonghwa, didn’t seem to bat an eye at your more humble appearance. he reminded you a lot of eunbi, honest and genuine in the way he was kind and nonjudgemental.

mrs. park seemed nice enough, too, though you could see the judgement behind her pretty eyes.

the way she sneered at your bags and looked down at your hands, so different from her and her daughter’s not covered in diamond bracelets or acrylic nails.

“did we just miss your parents?” she asked, her voice just as pretty and rich sounding as she appeared; you bet if she laughed, she’d had have that melodic, care-free laugh all rich women seem to have.

“oh, uh, yeah, i’m sorry,” you apologized, lying through your teeth with a shy smile and averting gaze - you had to move in by yourself, the same way you traveled here all alone with no one to send you off.

“it’s okay, we just thought it’d be nice to meet them,” eunbi’s father interjects, the smile on his handsome face causing your stomach to swoop - how is he a dad?

“we were gonna take eunbi to an early dinner before we left. do you wanna join us?”

“oh no, it’s okay, i’d hate to intru-”

“no, you’re coming, c’mon!” your new roommate whined, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door. “we’ll be able to get a lot of dessert out of them. probably the whole menu if we wanted.”

and you saw that over the years, eunbi knew she could, in fact, get whatever she wanted from her parents. they had the money and the means and the fondness in their hearts for their only daughter.

but it never seemed to get to your friend.

she was always kind and thoughtful of others and never said or did anything to suggest she was just a brainless, spoiled rich kid.

even in your guy’s second year when she found out you were going to school on an academic scholarship, she didn’t care. she didn’t turn her nose up or think you were lesser than her for not having the funds; if anything, it only made her praise you more.

that you were smart and ambitious enough to work under the strict guidelines of a prestigious scholarship.

“i know it’s not fair,” you mumble, not wanting to cry or have another anxiety attack over this matter. “but it is what it is. i’ll figure it out.”

she lets out a dejected, defeated sigh so uncharacteristic of the girl, plopping down on her pink, fluffy bed and bringing you down with her.

“we’ll sell feet pics over winter break,” she concludes after a few minutes of silence, wrapping her arm around yours and curling her body into yours. “you know how much money we can get from that? and we have pretty feet,” she says, sticking her leg up and wiggling her red, painted toes.

there’s a little less tightness in your chest and a little heaviness lifted in your stomach as you let out a giggle, looking over at your best friend who truly got you through the last four years of school.

you really don’t know how you’d still be functioning if it weren’t for her.

“you’re sick.”

“i’m serious,” she giggles out, flipping on her side and causing the bed to bounce under you. “you’re still good with coming tomorrow, right? i told my parents you were.”

she had invited you to her house for the winter break this year, the girl not wanting you to spend a month alone in the apartment.

you’ve shared with her how strained your relationship with your parents has been, really, since birth. never seeing eye to eye to them and feeling as if they never had your best interests at heart.

when most kids get full ride scholarships, their parents are immensely proud. bragging about how smart they are and telling them how proud they were.

but your parents were the opposite.

they didn’t want you to up and leave them to pursue an education. they thought you were gonna stay with them forever, not go to college like them and help run the family business back home in your tiny little hometown.

it was your dream to go to college and get a degree, though, so that’s exactly what you did for yourself; but they saw it as a giant fuck you.

saw it as you thinking you were better than them and basically told you to never come back if you thought you were so much smarter and better off without them.

so you’d spent every winter or summer vacation in the dorms, this year finally being the time you accepted eunbi’s invitation to stay over - reluctantly.

“i packed all my stuff, yeah,” you mumble, hands twisted into one another nervously. “but... are you sure they’re okay with it? i don’t wanna intrude or be there if i’m not wanted.”

“y/n, please,” she whines, “my mom may be a raging bitch but you know i make the rules in that house.”

“that’s not what i meant,” you mutter immediately, looking to the girl with a small frown on your lips.

although it was no secret eunbi’s mom didn’t ever seem too fond of you, always sneering at your off-brand items or questioning the logistics of why exactly you needed a scholarship to afford college, you always tried to remain polite.

smile at her and greet her happily even though there was always a thick, palpable tension between you two.

“oh but it is,” she chuckles out, the girl far too aware of what a materialistic snob her mother is. “it’s fine, i know she’s a bitch. my dad’s just coming tomorrow anyway. i told him to bring one of the bigger cars so we can lay out in the back.”

you have to bite back a snarky comment about the fact there are multiple cars in question, though the look in your eye certainly gives it away. she can only giggle and shrug her shoulders, flopping onto her back as she tells you about how excited she is to be reunited with her boyfriend.

eunbi and jiwoon have been dating since their second year of high school, going to colleges only an hour away from each other; he was just as handsome as he was kind and good to her, leaving you with no other option but to love and support the both of them.

and you try to listen to her rambling that ensues, you really do, but your mind is swirling with some slight anxiety about staying with her family for a month.

you don’t wanna make her mom even more irritated, deal with the side eyes and passive aggressive comments and overall feeling of just not being wanted.

you don’t want eunbi to feel obligated to be with you 24/7, act as a cock block to her and her boyfriend who haven’t seen each other in almost six weeks.

and maybe, you don’t want your tiny, small, miniscule crush on mr. park to make you feel any more awkward than it does, wondering how a married man who has a daughter in college is still so handsome and alluring.

it also doesn’t help that he’s just so incredibly kind, always making everyone feel so comfortable and welcomed, it’d be hard not to just develop a little, secret crush on him.

“eunbi, who is that sexy ass man who just dropped you off?” one of your suite mates asks your roommate, everyone gathering back in front of the dorm building after winter break.

it was sophomore year and you spent a month in the quiet, almost eerie college dorms alone (apart from the ra down the hall). you were grateful for everyone to return, no matter how loud or catty things were about to become.

“yeah, for real. is that your new boyfriend? he’s hotter than the last one and i didn’t even think that was possible.”

“uhhh.. no,” eunbi says, shooting the crowd of girls with lustful eyes and curious glances a look of distaste. “that’s my dad.”

and that’s when a chorus of disbelief and inappropriate comments erupted from the group of college girls.

asking how a dad could look like that while hoping and praying he’s single.

inquiring about just how much her dad’s on campus and when’s the next time he’s gonna pick her up.

about how he’s definitely hotter than her boyfriend, with a more mature and sophisticated look than these college boys.

“are they fucking serious! like how disgusting? he’s my literal father!” eunbi rages once in the dorm room, sharing a few curse words and vulgar phrases at the girl’s before stomping away from them.

“and for them to say that shit in front of me? did they think i want to hear that?”

“i know, that was so sick,” you agree, because even though you, too, think he’s attractive, it’s not something you would ever verbalize to your friend.

“like... i know he’s younger than most dads, my parents had me when they were teenagers, but shit! how sick,” she rants, throwing down her heavy designer bags and flopping on her bed.

you can tell by the look on her face how much it truly bothers her, everyone always noticing her dad and making comments like that. she handles it well, she’s always able to handle herself well, but it doesn’t take away from the fact that it’s something that worries her.

people getting close to her to get to her dad, even if it was teachers or other moms in elementary school or her friends when she got to college.

it’s one of the many reasons you would never give away your little crush on him - because it’s not only inappropriate and uncomfortable for her to know but there’s also no need to tell her.

because it’s not like it would go anywhere.

he’s a married man and your roommate’s father, a twisted, dark, forbidden fantasy that will stay in the walls of your head and never see the light of day - no matter how thrilling and fulfilling being with him would be.

“eunbi, your dad’s gonna be here soon,” you yell into your roommate’s doorway, met with the sound of her groaned “five more minutes!” that you’ve been hearing for the past twenty.

she was on facetime with jiwoon when you went to bed around one, briefly waking to the sound of her girlish screams or high-pitched giggles three hours later; you wouldn’t be surprised if she only went to bed a few hours ago.

“you said five more minutes thirty minutes ago,” you say, stomping your way over before smacking her over the head with a pillow. she lets out a loud sigh before swatting you away, your surprisingly fast reflexes grabbing her wrist.

she peeks one eye open as a smirk covers her morning face, looking from you all dressed up and ready in your pink pleated skirt and white thigh high stockings, down to her wrist in your hold.

“that was kinda hot. and you look good. i don’t know how to act right now.”

“shut up and get your ass out of bed,” you demand, biting back a smile as you storm out of her room.

you’d been pacing around the apartment ever since you woke up at seven a.m., more and more unsettled about staying over her house as the time drew closer.

you checked to make sure you had enough clothes and chargers and skincare products for nearly an hour, finally settling the same purple suitcase you moved in with freshmen year near the door.

you hope mrs. park doesn’t notice, remembering the way she sneered at the wonky zipper and slightly stained bottom.

you also hope you can keep yourself in check, not get too nervous or flustered by eunbi’s exorbitant wealth or a new setting you don’t feel welcomed in or her hot ass father whose bones you wanna jump.

the knock at the door completely sobers you, jumping in your spot just in time to see eunbi fly across the living room to get to the door. there’s a big, happy smile on her face, ripping open the door and greeting her father in typical eunbi fashion.

“are those for me?” she asks, snatching the red box from his hands.

excitement bubbles inside the girl as she unveils twelve chocolate covered strawberries, a speciality at one of the local dessert shops just a few miles from her home.

“you shouldn’t have, dad, really. i’m much too tired to appreciate this.”

the man can only look at his daughter with a look of disdain and affection, waking up to an extremely passive aggressive text that she’d really appreciate an early morning treat from her favorite place ever and that it’d really inspire her to be ready.

but as he can currently see, given the state of her hair and pajamas pants, it didn’t at all act as a motivator.

“then maybe i should just-” but upon her father’s hand reaching out to grab the box of strawberries, the girl brings it to her body and runs away, yelling that her bags are packed and she’s just gonna wash her face.

he looks to you with a mock annoyed expression, your heart jumping in your chest as you send him a small, polite smile.

“how do you deal with her, y/n?” he asks, a smirk on his face rising as you let out a soft, slightly forced giggle - this man looks too good for his own good at ten o’clock in the morning.

“don’t talk shit about me!” she yelps before you can even think to say something, a smile lighting up his face again before he nods his head down the hall.

“i’ll bring down your girl’s bags,��� he says, his tall, large frame coming toward you making your knees feel slightly wobbly.

you swear you see his eyes roam over you for the shortest of seconds, down to your shirt and exposed legs before back to your face, until he’s looking into your eyes questioningly.

totally not like someone who just checked out their daughter’s roommate - this is what you feared, your own delusionals and attraction making your crazy little brain see something that’s not there.

“her bedroom’s down that hall?”

you resist the urge to swallow nervously, begging yourself to snap out of it and remind yourself you have to deal with the man for a month. a month of his dark, piercing eyes and bright, white smile and skin so smooth and clear, it’s far too easy to forget he’s almost forty years old.

“yeah,” you barely manage to get out. “i-i can help and bring down mine.”

“no, it’s okay,” he insists, “help in getting eunbi ready. you know she’ll delay us thirty more minutes.”

you let out another strained chuckle as you nod your head, finally letting out the breath you’ve been holding when you hear his footsteps disappear down the hall and into her room.

as long as you distance yourself from him, not look him in the eye or let any sort of idea get in your head that an older, married man could want you back, this will be fine.

it’ll be a nice, calm, relaxed break actually full of interaction and socialization opposed to your usual lonely bubble of solitude.

eunbi’s not making that very easy though, when twenty minutes later, she’s opening the back door of her father’s black g-wagen and sprawling out on the black leather seats.

“where’s y/n supposed to go, eunbi?” seonghwa asked, the fatherly tone is his voice causing eunbi to let out a huff; the only time you see eunbi’s spoiled tendencies come out is around her father, the girl knowing he’ll do anything and everything for her.

and apparently, so will you.

sitting in the front seat of her car, next to her extremely hot father you’re trying to stay calm around, while she sleeps soundly in the backseat - if she didn’t invite to stay at her home, meals and bed and transportation free, you’d say she has to owe you.

“was she up all night talking to jiwoon?” mr. park asked, the past few moments of silence just as comforting as they were terrifying. it felt awkward to you, extremely tense and full of suspense, but you knew it was completely normal.

you bite down on your lip, looking back at eunbi sleeping soundly on the seat, even prepared with a fuzzy white blanket. you let out a soft giggle when you see her mouth open, the slightest bit of drool hanging from her mouth and threatening to spill on the dark leather.

“she might’ve been,” you mutter, a breathy laugh leaving her father that causes you to sneak a glance at him.

there’s not a hint of a wrinkle or imperfection on his glowing skin, black hair hanging in his face and red lips quirked into a content smile. that’s something you always noticed about him, despite his dark appearance and looming figure, he always appears to be happy.

smiles and laughs and never gives anyone without his same wealth a dirty glance - he treats everyone the same and that’s another reason you’ve taking a liking to him, not just because he’s the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life.

“y/n?” he asks, your intrusive thoughts being ripped away at the sound of his voice calling your name.

your eyes move to his and he’s watching you in slight amusement, a rampant blush creeping up on your cheeks at the way you’ve been caught. you’re quick to look away, shake your head and let out an awkward chuckle and apology.

you miss the way his eyes roam your side profile, a delightful smirk and feeling in his chest blooming before he speaks again.

“how was your semester?”

“it was good,” you say, hands placed nervously in your lap. “a lot of work on top of an internship but it was good.”

“and you girls are almost done,” he hums lowly, one hand atop the steering wheel while his eyes focus on the highway in front of him. “eunbi’s been talking about a combined graduation party since the moment you guys met.”

you let out a small laugh as you remember eunbi’s plan since your second semester of freshmen year, ignoring the twinge of sadness in your stomach.

you could’ve never anticipated delaying your college career when you first received your scholarship, happy and proud and eternally grateful for the opportunity.

but you suppose you’re lucky enough to have gotten this far, and delaying one last semester is nothing compared to people who never get to go to college - but it still makes you feel upset.

you think you have the right to feel disappointed and sad, the lingering sick feeling in your stomach making you feel nauseous.

“is it okay if i open the window for a second?” you mumble to mr. park, the man looking over your face.

he presses down on the passenger window button immediately, your face met with cold air as relief floods through your body.

“are you okay? do you get car sick?” he asks, remembering how much eunbi used to get car sick (on the rare occasion she wasn’t passed out during a road trip).

“not usually,” you mumble, resting your head on the side of the door.

then again, i’m not usually freaking out about making tuition money or repressing my violent attraction to my roommate’s father.

seonghwa watches as you close your eyes for a few moment, allowing the cold, windy air to hit your face. he couldn’t help but notice the pinkish tint to your cheeks, suppressing the urge for his eyes and thoughts to wander.

you’re a college girl in the prime of her life and his daughter’s best friend, he’d be a fool to think you were blushing and nervous because of him - but he also doesn’t remember you looking like.... this.

so pretty and dressed up and pink in the face as you check him out with a soft and curious look in your eye.

“maybe try to take a nap,” he suggests, his gaze lingering back onto the road so he doesn’t look at your exposed legs. “i’ll pull off at a rest stop to get you ginger ale.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” your sweet voice says, something about it causing his insides to jump - he definitely doesn’t remember you sounding like that. “i’ll be okay. just need the window open for a little longer.”

you spend the next few minutes with the cold, december wind blowing through the car, your back pressed against the comfortable seat behind you. a chill runs through your body, goosebumps rising on your exposed thighs, but it feels better than the alternative.

potentially panicking or vomiting due to current stress of your life.

your gaze shifts to the man beside you, whether it be to check him out or ask if he’s cold unknown to you.

“are you okay with the-”

the words are stuck in your throat when you see his eyes aren’t on the road but your exposed, goose-bumpy thighs, the white lace of your thigh high stockings and pink skirt leaving little to the imagination.

you wish you could see the look in his eye, if it’s judgemental and shameful or full of lust and curiosity. if he’s wondering what you have on just a few inches under your skirt and if that’s something he even thinks about.

or maybe he’s just looking because it’s there - your skirt blowing in the wind and him caught off guard by the sight right there in his passenger seat.

“um, i think i’m good now,” you mumble, watching from your peripheral as he shifts in his seat and tightens his hold on the steering wheel.

“alright, let me know if you wanna stop.”

you bite down on your lip as you nod your head, keeping your eyes on the view in front of you.

the faint sounds of eunbi snoring behind you act as a way to ground you, remind you that these thoughts and feelings you’re having can’t stay.

maybe you have to get it our of your system now, take all the looks you can and feel all the hopefulness your delusional brain needs until you act as if eunbi’s father is a mean, disgusting, grotesque man.

not someone who gets your heart and body pounding.

you’re not sure how many songs play on the radio until you both are talking again, seonghwa looking in the rearview mirror to see his daughter still passed out on the seats.

“do you think she’ll sleep the whole time?”

he hope for his sake, she doesn’t.

you look back at eunbi sleeping soundly, the drool previously trickling down her mouth successfully making a pool on the black leather.

“probably,” you chuckle out lightly. “i have a feeling she went to bed around six.”

“shit,” he laughs out, remembering the days he used to be able to pull all nighters in college or dreaded the idea of waking up in the morning. “i can’t remember the last time i was able to stay up past one.”

“you’re not even that old, mr. park,” you tease, not sure where you got the balls to say that and feeling, at least for a few seconds, that you overstepped; but then he lets out a deep, amused chuckle and it causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach.

“not that old, huh?” he quips, your tooth sinking into your lip at the tone of his voice. “you know i’m turning 40 in a few months, right?”

you crane your neck to look at the man in the driver’s seat, swallowing thickly when you see his eyes are already on you. there’s a certain type of lightness and teasing in them that you’ve never seen before, the man always happy and jovial but never like this.

never looking so... teasing and playful.

“yeah,” you say with a growing smirk, not being able to help your own nervous excitement. “that doesn’t seem too bad.”

the deep, low chuckle that leaves him causes your stomach to swoop, eyes wide and the small smile on your face causing him to look over you once more.

it’s shameless and bold but neither of you seem to care in that moment.

“i’ll keep that in mind,” he says, deep brown eyes piercing through yours before his face turns teasing and.. appropriate.. “the next time eunbi tries to call me an old man or something.”

“right,” you chuckle out, cheeks burning and heart pounding as you allow yourself to break eye contact.

the ride to eunbi’s house is just over two hours, hoping and praying that it goes by quickly - because you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to be alone, or mostly alone, with him.

you’re thinking too much into his words and his gaze and the way he makes you feel, making you silly enough to believe that, maybe, a part of him wants you too.

the second you arrived at eunbi’s, you had already felt unwelcomed.

not only because of mrs. park, who just about sneered at your presence in her exquisite home, but because of the dozens of other socialites in the immaculately white living room.

it looked and felt almost like a hospital. a white color scheme with black accents, extremely cold and spotless - the only bit of color was in eunbi’s room where it felt like you could actually breathe.

“i’m sorry, i told her not to throw her fucking gathering today,” eunbi complained, grumpy from her nap but still happy to finally be home.

“a bunch of stuck up snobs, i swear to god. they either have to get the stick lodged so far up their asshole removed or get dicked down by their lousy excuses of-”

“eunbi,” you hear her father’s deep voice reprimand, the girl not even feeling the slightest bit of shame or embarrassment for talking that way in front of her father.

“oh, c’mon, dad, you know it’s true!” she whines in a whispered tone. “they’re the worst! and she knew me and y/n were coming today, do you really think that wasn’t a coincidence?”

because, as far as eunbi thinks, she has sinking suspicions that her mom did this solely to make you uncomfortable.

she had already been hesitant to let you stay in the first place, had eunbi not gone full on bitch mode and stubbornly proclaimed she’d spend the break with you at the apartment.

but you didn’t have to know that.

“i don’t care, it’ll just be my first christmas without my family, mom, who cares about that,” she had said, all types of manipulative and toxic behavior that she learned from the best.

she’s sure her mother was sweet and good at one point in her life, she wouldn’t have ended up with her father in the first place if she wasn’t, but money changes people.

wealth and greed and having the power to get anything you want because you flash a stack of money around or write out a check.

“i told her to have them out by dinner,” he said, his eyes moving from eunbi to you, standing there with tense shoulders and a shy, uncomfortable look on your face.

“you’re more than welcomed here, y/n,” he said, his voice low and full of kindness as he stands in eunbi’s doorway. “don’t worry about it, okay?”

you resist the urge to pout at the touched feeling in your chest, looking from the man to eunbi who’s nodding at her dad’s words.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, a phrase he swears has never effected him this deeply.

and because of that, he’s quick to haul ass out of there. tells you guys that dinner will be ready around seven and to come down whenever.

you and eunbi spend that time in her room to unpack both of your things and watch movies, her king sized bed nearly lulling you to sleep until her loud squeal and bounce of the bed causes you to jump in shock.

“y/n, don’t be mad at me please,” she whines directly in your face, all wide-eyed and cutesy as she looks at you with mock innocence.

“what did you do?” you mumble tiredly, pushing her away with the smallest of sneers.

“i’ll be back for dinner, i promise, but... is it okay if i go to jiwoon’s for a little?” she asks, cocking her head to the side before shimming closer to you. “i have to get railed so bad.”

“jesus christ, eunbi,” you snort, pushing her away again and burying your face in the pillow - you’ve never met someone who overshares as much as she does.

she plops down on her back with an unabashed giggle, popping right back up like an annoying little dog and looking at you with a smile.

“of course you can go, i’m not gonna hold you hostage here,” you say when she pulls your face away, looking at you so expectantly and sweetly, you couldn’t say no if you wanted.

“okay, but i don’t want you thinking that i’m gonna ditch you this whole time. i’m really not, y/n,” she pouts, knowing that was one of the reasons you were apprehensive about coming - that and her bitch of a mother. “i just miss him.”

a pout falls on your face as you look at eunbi and the genuine look on her face.

“bi, i’m serious, go. i want you to,” you insist, moving a piece of her tangled hair away from her face. “we were just gonna be up here anyway. i’ll probably take a nap, i was about to fall asleep before your loud ass-”

“thank you, thank you, thank you,” she says, pulling you into a tight hug before jumping off her bed and rushing toward her door. “i’ll be back a lot more calm and happy. oh, why, you ask? because i’m about to get my back blown the fuck ou-”

you thank god for your impeccable aim, promptly whacking eunbi in the face with one of her pillows.

“get out of here,” you groan, eunbi throwing the pillow back with a smile on her face.

“sweet dreams, y/n!”

you let out a sigh when she closes her door, falling back onto her bed with a soft plop.

you were definitely tired from your anxious pacing this morning but aren’t sure how much sleep you’re gonna get right now, tonight or for the rest of the month.

knowing that you’re unwelcomed by one person, extremely attracted to another and silently betraying the person you should be most loyal too - but as long as it just stays in your head, and you remind yourself that there’s no way mr. park could feel anything back to you, it’ll be fine.

you’ll just get by quietly and smoothly at dinners or in passing through the hallways, enjoy eunbi’s comfortable king-sized bed and the fact that you don’t have to spend yet another holiday alone.

reruns of drake and josh play in the background, keeping your giggles quiet as drake soaks his feet in lizard pee. you feel your eyes grow heavy the more episodes you watch, the shitty laugh track and loud, bickering brothers eventually lulling you to sleep.

it takes about five knocks on the door to eventually stir you, your eyes fluttering open to see mr park’s figure in the doorway. you can only stare at the man as you adjust to him, taking in his tall, slim figure just a few feet away from you.

taking in the way his white shirt clings to his body, broad shoulders and slim torso on display in a way that makes you wish you could see, just for a second, what he looks like underneath that a-

“sorry if i woke you,” his deep voice hums, the slightest bit of amusement in his voice that causes your cheeks to warm. “i didn’t think you’d be sleeping at seven p.m.”

“no, it’s okay,” you stammer out, sitting up in eunbi’s bed. “i... i don’t even know when i fell asleep, to be honest.”

he looks at the screen to see drake and josh playing, a smirk pulling at his lips as his gaze shifts back to you.

“it’s funny,” you defend with a mumble, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth that causes butterflies to erupt in your stomach - he’s far too handsome, everything about him is just far too attractive, even in his laugh.

“that’s what eunbi claims,” he says, remembering all the years of his daughter forcing him to watch ridiculous shows.

despite his daughter’s outgoing nature, she never had a lot of friends growing up.

there was once a small group of girls she hung out but they quickly drifted apart throughout high school, leaving eunbi really only with him and her boyfriend.

the boyfriend who seonghwa really didn’t wanna like out of principal but seeing that the kid really does love his daughter quickly coming around.

“speaking of, where is she? jiwoon’s?”

“yeah,” you tell him, settling back into the pillows and stretching your arms out in front of you. “she said she’d be back for dinner.”

“well she’s wrong, as usual, because dinner’s ready,” he quips playfully, the smirk pulling at his lips causing you to smile back at him. you swallow nervously when his eyes roam over your face, your own gaze trained on him before you see his mouth start to move again.

“do you want me to bring some up for you? or you’ll come down?”

he can see the apprehension on your face immediately, fear crossing your eyes and your arms folding into each other uncomfortably. he tries to ignores the way your soft white sweater dips by your chest, a hint of perky cleavage just barely showing that causes his dick to twitch in his pants.

he doesn’t know when this happened.

he didn’t know when he became a pervy old man who checked out college girls with his wife just downstairs and the knowledge that you’re his daughter’s friend.

“i’ll come down,” you say, surprising him just as he was about to insist he brings some up for you. “she’ll probably be back soon anyway.”

but five minutes pass by, then ten, then twenty and eunbi’s still not home - it’s just you, seonghwa and mrs. park at the long, glass dining room table.

white chairs with high backs and comfortable cushions to match the immaculate, hospital-like color scheme and environment; truthfully, you’ve never been more terrified to eat a plate of chicken parmesan in your life.

the sound of utensils scraping on the china and the crackling of the fireplace a room over are the only noises heard throughout the home, mrs. park taking a swig of wine and gently placing it on the table with a light clack.

“so, y/n,” she finally says, breaking the tension with her rich-sounding, nasally voice. “how has school been, dear? you’re an... art major, am i remembering that correctly?”

“uh, photography, yeah,” you smile tensely, trying to ignore the judgment in her voice.

“ah, so you never switched over to business then,” she hums, her wine glass back in hand as her dark, gorgeous eyes look you over.

you bite the inside of your cheek as you feel a pink flush cover your face, faintly remembering your roommate saving you a few semesters ago when her mom was grilling you about picking a more practical and useful major.

“she can do whatever she wants, mom,” eunbi eventually snapped, “whether she does business or photography or even liberal arts is none of your business.”

“no,” you mutter out, dropping your gaze to look over the intricate pattern on the table. “i thought about it but it wasn’t something i wanted.”

“so you didn’t want something practical? or useful?” she asks, using those two words yet again while cocking her head to the side with a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

“a business degree would’ve been great, y/n. everyone always has connections to somewhere, you could’ve found a job right out of college.”

you bite back the urge to tell her no. that not everyone has connections to multi billion dollar companies or numbers of ceos in their phones or the ceo of a tech company as their next door neighbors.

but instead, the same way eunbi defended you against her mother, seonghwa does against his wife. gives you a soft, sympathetic side eye before placing his larger hand on his wife’s.

“there are tons of jobs in photography too, honey,” seonghwa says, his voice so warm and soft and welcoming compared to hers even despite the slight edge in it.

“and she can travel to build her portfolio. it’s a fantastic opportunity to explore the world and make money. is there a particular type of photography you’d wanna do?”

you feel yourself relax slightly, a small smile on your face as you nod your head toward the striking couple.

“i would love to be a wedding photographer actually,” you mumble, a romantic at heart who’s read and watched far too many novels and romcoms.

“taking pictures of all those moments would be really fun, i think. like when the groom sees the bride for the first time or just everyone dancing and having fun. weddings are usually happy and i like to photography happy things.”

“that sounds perfect for you then,” seonghwa smiles, his brown eyes lighting up and making you feel even more at ease.

“i think you’ll do great, y/n. and you only have a semester left, right? maybe you and eunbi you could travel for the summer before you start your jobs.”

you ignore the swish of dread and anxiety in your stomach at the mention of next semester, instead choosing to smile softly and nod your head at the man.

“i think she’d love that,” you giggle out, knowing damn well your roommate already has an extensive list of cities she wants to visit before ‘real life begins.’

“and how do your parents feel about everything?” mrs. park asks, making your stomach twist with even more dread and discomfort. “are they proud?”

you wish you could fold in on yourself right now, swallowing the growing, nervous lump in your throat.

because not only is she making you incredibly uncomfortable right now, with her harsh looks and topic of conversation and snide little tone, she just mentioned the people you haven’t spoken to since you left home at eighteen.

you don’t know what to say, you have the slightest bit of concern you might throw up on her, when the loud, chipper voice of your roommate floats through the cold, silent house.

“i’m back!” her chipper voice yelps, sock-clad feet running through the house and sliding on the marble floor. “what’d you guys make?”

“you’re late, eunbi,” seonghwa mumbles warningly, an innocent smile on her face as she picks up her plate of food and plops down next to you.

“am i? or are you girls just early?”

“i’m not a girl.”

“it’s a figure of speech, father,” eunbi says, smiling playfully at her father before turning to you.

she’s able to tell the second she sees your face that you’re uncomfortable, the pink flush still lingering on your face and the tenseness of your shoulders making her frown.

“i’m sorry you were alone with them,” she whispers, genuine sorrow in her wide, mock-innocent eyes. “i got held up. or... down, rather, but i tried to leave on time. i promise.”

“uh huh, i bet,” you mumble back, fighting back a smile despite your discomfort.

because eunbi has always had something about her that made it impossible to stay mad at her, her carefree, unfiltered way of communicating that made being her friend so easy.

even if, sometimes, you wanted to kill her.

“so mom,” eunbi quips, turning her soft gaze to you before looking over her mother.

“what was with your little group of bitchy housewives today? you couldn’t have had them over any other day? what kind of christmas disgrace is that?”

“eunbi...” seonghwa chastises lowly, the girl with her brow already quirked and eyes narrowed.

“i can do whatever i want in my home, eunbi. are you forgetting how things work around here?”

“how could i, when i’m met with thirty middle-aged women with botox out the ass in my home the second i get back from school?” she asks, “you didn’t think me and y/n would wanna spend the break, like, resting?”

“you ran off to your boyfriend’s the second you got here,” mrs. park bites back, her glass of wine empty as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “left your friend all alone in your room. what did i tell you about leaving... guests unattended in the house?”

the accusation and direction of conversation is quickly making you feel uncomfortable, your head turned down in your lap and leaving your cheeks aflame.

she’s making it sound like you would steal something in her home for christ’s sake, like you’re not a guest who’s dreaded coming here due to this very reason.

you block out the back and forth between eunbi and her mom, a few more seconds of yappy feminine voices before a deeply spoken “enough,” echoes through the dining room.

you even look up at the sound, watching as mr. park’s eyes rest on you. his eyes narrow as he takes in the sight of your red cheeks, his gaze shifting from you to his daughter to his wife beside him.

“y/n’s here for a month and we’re gonna make her feel welcomed the entire time. if you two are gonna fight, don’t do it at the dinner table.”

“but dad, she totally-”

“maybe you should’ve taught your daughter-”

“no more,” seonghwa growls, a sense of finality in his tone that causes the room to go silent.

you can tell your friend is unbothered by the reprimanding, shoveling food into her mouth and sipping from her wine glass completely unbothered.

sometimes you wish you could be more like her, so unfazed by conflict or loud voices or the strained relationship with a parent.

eunbi was always open with you about the rocky relationship with her mother, saying more than once to you that if it weren’t for her father, she would’ve long cut off any contact with her.

she had never really been there for eunbi growing up, having nannies and chefs take care of her for most of her life - it was her nanny of fifteen years who taught her how to walk and talk, was there with her for all the milestones she met through infancy, childhood and even adolescence.

but even then, eunbi was nonchalant and carefree about it.

saying that she’s not gonna waste her time being upset over it when she knows her mom doesn’t think about her at all. it makes your heart hurt for eunbi, grateful that the girl at least has a good relationship with her father and boyfriend.

and you, of course. you consider her your best friend and you know she does the same - even if sometimes, you wanna pull her hair out.

“i’m gonna go the food store tomorrow, eunbi, so if you and y/n want anything, just text it to me.”

“oooh can we come!” she squeals, knocking her arm into yours like an excited kid in a candy store. “we wanna try making our cookies again.”

“you’re gonna bake?” the girl’s father asks, a look of doubt on his face that causes you to bite back a smile.

“no, we’re gonna bake,” she corrects with snark, “y/n measures the ingredients and stirs, i put it in the oven and watch.”

“right, silly me,” the man hums, a smirk pulling at his lips the more he sees his daughter get irritated. “but of course you girls can come,” he says, his eyes flicking to you for just a few seconds too long.

you can only look back with a small smile, a quiet “thank you,” leaving your mouth that you’re positive he doesn’t catch.

(he did).

you help clean your plate off before you and eunbi go up to her room later that night, once her door’s closed and she’s sitting down shooting her a look of disdain.

“i know you’re mad, okay, i’m sorry, i really am!” she whines, holding her arms out for you to come over. “i tried to leave but he wouldn’t let me. he just kept wanting to-”

“i don’t need the details you sick freak!” you yelp, going over and plopping down on her bed. “ugh, it was just... so awkward. your mom hates me. she was utterly perturbed that i didn’t switch my major to business.”

“ugh, she’s a crotchety bitch i swear,” eunbi says, falling onto her back and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “i’m sorry, i really am. i won’t leave you alone with her again, i promise.”

you quirk an unconvinced eyebrow her way, eyes full of doubt and distrust before she throws herself on you and squeals that, at least, now you can have a scary movie marathon without any interruptions.

it seems you also probably should’ve made her promise last night that you’d never be alone with her father either; it didn’t even occur to you at the time, not thinking that she’d really ditch you two days in a row.

but alas, jiwoon’s car pulled up when all three of you were walking out of the house to the g-wagon for the trip to the food store, her shooting you an apologetic look and whispered condolences in your ear.

“i’m technically not breaking my promise because my dad’s nice,” she mumbled, the feeling in your body more nervous and aroused than it is angry and upset.

but she could’t know that.

“and when i break your head? then what, eunbi?”

“i love you,” she giggles in your ear, the playful tone of your voice letting her know she got off the hook again. “it’ll be fine. my dad’s a good man. he wouldn’t ever talk shit to you the way my mom does.”

little does she know how much you want her dad to talk shit to you.

talk to you in a way that’s casual and playful and teasing, like the hints of it you’ve seen in the car or in eunbi’s room when you were alone last night. you just want him to look at you with the slightest bit of something, even though it’s wrong.

not only because of his wife, no matter how big a bitch she is, but because of-

“do you still wanna come with me?”

seonghwa’s voice pulls you away from your thoughts, looking to the man dressed in a long, black jacket and expensive loafers. he looks far too fancy and delectable for a trip to the grocery store.

eunbi is long gone by now, her giggles and carefree run down the driveway and into her boyfriend’s car leaving you and mr. park alone, with only the blue sky and crisp air as your witness.

him looking you over hopefully, with a twinge of teasing and longing in his gaze.

you looking at him full of nerves and excitement, biting down on your lip as you nod your head timidly.

“s-sure, if that’s okay,” you say, looking from him to his car just a few feet away. “it’d be better than sitting in eunbi’s room again.”

a handsome smile crosses his face as he nods his head, heart pounding and throat constricting as you watch him walk toward the car.

he walks around the front of a smaller, sleek suv, your own eyes watching in confusion until he opens the passenger side door.

you can only stare blankly, head cocked to the side as you really start to wonder if this man is about to make you drive his car costing more than your life.

“are you getting in, y/n?” he asks, an amused smile pulling at his lips - almost like he’s making fun of your nervous, intimidated disposition.

you shake your head of the confusion, cheeks flushing in the cold december air as you do an awkward jog toward the car. you dip in beside him as your body hits the cool leather, craning your neck to shoot him a small, grateful smile.

your faces are closer than you anticipated, breath catching in your throat as his gaze watches you closely.

he doesn’t say a word or move a muscle, taking a few moments for his eyes to roam your face and body before mumbling to buckle up.

you wish you knew how long the drive to the store would be, as it would slightly settle you and the thick, awkward tension in the air. it appears to be enough time for the heat to go on, warm air blowing from the vents before he asks if you want your seat heater on.

“oh, sure, thank you,” you mumble, a smile quirking on his lips as he presses down on the small circular button.

more silence lingers in the air as the trees outside you pass by, the bright winter sun and blue sky not making it feel like christmas is only a few days away.

you can’t remember the last time the holidays have actually felt like it, though,  all the lonely days blending into one and feeling as if they were the same.

maybe this year, because you’re surrounded by eunbi and her family, it’ll feel less lonely. maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself and find that you’ve missed out when you denied her invitation each and every-

“i’m sorry about my wife last night.”

those are words you don’t expect so they shock you even more, looking at the older man beside you with a wide-eyed, confused gaze. his dark eyes are expressionless and casual on the road, one hand on the wheel while the other rests beside him.

“i... what do you mean?” you ask, knowing damn well you understand his apology - and given the unamused look he throws you, he knows you’re full of shit too.

“i don’t think she means to judge you so harshly,” he begins, his deep, smooth voice full of sympathy and softness. “it’s not her place to question your education or major, so i just want to apologize for her.”

“that’s not necessary, mr. park,” you insist, shaking your head as a small, breathy chuckle leaves you. “and it’s not like i haven’t heard it before.”

because no one is ever too confident in any of the arts being your main source of income or profession; even your own parents, although it really wouldn’t matter what you would have chosen, haven’t been supportive.

and you especially haven’t missed the looks of pity or distaste when you tell people on campus or at parties in the frat house, future business leaders or stem majors looking at you like just said the sky is hot pink.  

“well that’s just ridiculous,” seonghwa says, ripping you from your thoughts so you can roam over his strong, handsome face. “it’s a great field to work in and something you’re passionate about. that’s what matters most.”

he can tell by the way your cheeks flush that you’re slightly embarrassed and he can’t help but find it endearing, licking over his lips as his mind begins to wander.

wonder about what other parts of you could flush so easily or what else he could say to really make the pinkness deepen.

“i guess,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you look at the passing oak trees and mansions.

“and... what you said last night about traveling to build my portfolio,” you begin, shocked by the words continuing to leave your mouth. “that’s something i’ve thought about doing. i think it’d be really fun, regardless if i did wedding photographer or not.”

“yeah?” he asks, the smile on his face causing your head to jump. “i think that’d be good, too. where would you wanna go first?”

your lips purse to the side as you think it over, a love for traveling anywhere you could but having an especially strong pull toward the tropics.

“cancun or the maldives,” you answer, the financial aspect of the trip leaving it most likely impossible for you. “it’ll probably never happen, because i’d have to sell my first born, but i’ve always wanted to go somewhere like that. somewhere tropical and fun.”

seonghwa bites his tongue about his multiple trips there, instead letting out a chuckle that causes butterflies to erupt. his eyes are too drawn to your body in the front seat, legs crossed and arms over your lap politely.

“you never know,” he hums, ripping his gaze away before you catch his gawking. “you might get there one day, after being the best wedding photographer the city has to offer.”

“oh, please,” you glggle out, cheeks flushing despite the absurdity of the comment.

you catch the smile that creeps on his face, the same handsome, carefree smile you saw in the car last time.

you try not to let it get to you, let your brain convince you that maybe he likes hanging out with you alone as much as you like it too.

“i’m serious,” he says, the earnest tone of his voice slipping into dad mode in a way he doesn’t even realize. “your parents must be proud.”

you bite down on your lip as you let out a soft, almost scornful, chuckle, a quietly mumbled “yeah,” leaving your mouth that causes his eyebrows to pull together.

he always thought it was a little suspicious that in the four years eunbi has known you, she’s never told him about your parents; as far as he knows, she’s never even seen them.

“she has her scholarship and stuff so she doesn’t really need them,” his daughter said one day, the two of them discussing why you were spending yet another break alone in the apartment.

“but they don’t want her home for the holidays? you told her she was welcomed, right?”

“ugh, about a thousand times,” his daughter groans in the seat, throwing herself against the window dramatically. “i basically begged her, dad, but she said she didn’t wanna intrude. i’m telling you it’s because mom is the biggest fucking-”

“eunbi...”

“you know it’s true!” she squeals, seonghwa biting his tongue in an effort to be the bigger and better parent. “i don’t even know why you guys got married.”

but that’s what happens with teen pregnancies and rich families. how they were destined to marry anyway, due to their parents companies and stupid business politics.

it was one drunken night at his dad’s company party and a broken condom that sealed his fate with finality - made him go from a single, carefree high school student to a married businessman with a child just two short years later.

his wife was good at one point he likes to think, remembering she was gorgeous and sassy and not like the other girls who would drop to their knees for him.

but marriage and a child and just life quickly caught up with them, already trapped in a loveless, pointless marriage by the time he hit 25.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t stay for eunbi, that they both didn’t stay for eunbi throughout her childhood and now just grew too used to being an unhappy married couple who live separate lives.  

there was never any reason for them to divorce though, no one serious in his or his wife’s lives and the hassle of money and disputing houses and cars and assets far too draining.

“i don’t believe i’ve ever met them,” seonghwa says, pulling into the store parking lot to see it’s less crowded than he suspected it’d be. “what do they do?”

you couldn’t imagine anything more unbearable than disclosing to your friend’s hot dad who you may or may not have feelings for about the messed up relationship with your parents.

it just screams daddy issues, which might say a lot about your very attraction to him in the first place.

“they run a little restaurant back in my home town. it’s about three hours from campus, which is why i don’t really go home for breaks.”

seonghwa hums lowly, nodding his head as he looks at you at a stop sign.

you’re unnerved by the way his eyes roam you, like he can see signs of you being uncomfortable about your parents and wants to know why - but why would he care? you’re only his daughter’s roommate.

“do you miss seeing them?”

you lick over your lips nervously, watching as his eyes darken every so slightly.

he watches each and every of your movements carefully, so in tune with your reactions and breaths you can just feel yourself getting more and more worked up.

not in the slightest, you wanna say. i’ll probably never see them again and have no qualms about it, mr. park.

“i suppose,” you mutter, shrugging your shoulders as you apprehensively meet his gaze.

“you suppose?” he asks, concern etched on his face. “when was the time you’ve seen them? since your freshmen year?”

you avert your gaze as your teeth sink into your bottom lip, in no way wanting to have this discussion at ten a.m. when, much to your pleasure, an impatient car behind beeps at seonghwa’s mercedes.

his dark eyes move to the rearview mirror, narrowed and irritated in a way you can’t help but think is sexy, before he puts his foot off the break and turns into the parking lot.

“i think this person’s leaving,” you mutter when you notice another car go in reverse, seonghwa snatching the spot before the impatient, crotchety lady behind him could steal it.

you can’t help but smirk as seonghwa eyes her when you get out of the car, giving him a look that’s half judgmental and half amused.

“what? she beeped at me.”

“aren’t you supposed to be, like, an adult?”

he rolls his eyes as he takes a cart from the pile, nodding his head for you to go in front and “stop talking back to an elder.”

you can’t help but smirk at his playfulness, taking your spot in the front and pretending as if you always move your hips this much when you walk casually; you would’ve felt embarrassed, had you not turned around a few moments later to see his eyes already on you.

“where to first, mr. park?”

he has to bite back the groan threatening to leave his mouth, reminding himself to keep himself in check this month - starting tomorrow.

“depends, y/n,” he hums, voice far too deep and sultry to be surrounded by innocent bystanders in the grocery store. “what do you want?”

words are caught in your throat and you can only stare dumbly, your plan quickly back firing as he appears to do the same - but it’s gotta be in your head, right?

regardless, it quickly humbles you in the form of a small, unsure shrug.

it’s how you two start walking up and down the aisles, seonghwa putting in what he remembers and items on his mental list while also insisting you put in anything you want.

your arms bump ever so often, softly apologizing and acknowledging it the first few times before you both realize it may be happening on purpose.

you stick close to him when the aisles get tight and crowded, his deep voice telling you to “go ahead,” causing you to swallow shakily. you feel the presence of his hand just a few inches from your hips, lingering and hovering but never fully touching.

it’s finally when you’re in the bread aisle, seonghwa a few feet away talking to the man at the bakery counter, that you decide to put something in the cart.

you would usually never accept someone’s offer to buy you something, already feeling bad about staying with them rent free and eating their meals without compensating.

but the brioche loaf brand is one of your favorites, only sold on occasion at the corner store near campus.

you press up on your tippy toes to grab the bag of bread, stretching your arm up with all your might. the plastic slips through your fingers just as you’re about to snatch it down, letting out an annoyed huff as you pulled down your sweater dress.

you mumble your annoyances before trying again, back on the tips of your toes with your arm raising when you feel a hand on the small of your back.

it’s large and warm and seeping through the thin material of your burgundy dress, a snappy protest about to leave your mouth when you catch mr. park’s face in your peripheral.

there’s a content look on his face as he takes the bag with ease, holding it above your head as his hand moves from your back to your waist with a gentle touch.

you look at him with wide eyes and a pounding heart, his hand on your waist so foreign and strange but... good. something you didn’t even realize you’d been craving until it happened.

the strength and warmth of his hand, though if you think about it just enough, you can feel the weight of his wedding band through the fabric.

“is this what you wanted?”

his voice is deep and low as he speaks to you and you alone, your eyes raising to see him staring down at you. you can’t make out the expression in them, just the darkness in his eyes and the frantic beating of your heart.

you can’t even being to understand the context of his words right now because, yes, this is exactly what you’ve wanted - but he doesn’t know that, right?

“w-what?”

he can’t help the smirk that crosses his face, all sorts of pride and satisfaction and arousal coursing through his veins at your current disposition.

“the bread,” he says, stepping back and holding it out to you. “is this the one you wanted?”

your eyes narrow as you look at him, the smirk on his face, the amusement in his gaze, the playfulness that’s radiating off him - is he fucking with you?

“oh... i... yes,” you finally say, coming to your senses and not allowing yourself to think this way anymore. “that’s the one. i hope it’s okay.”

“of course,” he hums, placing the bread in the cart before going back to the front handles. “you can get anything you want, i already told you that.”

you nod dumbly as you follow beside him, seonghwa picking more things off the shelves and muttering the list to himself as you try to get your shit together.

because yes, you’re attracted to him and yes, you’ve found yourself alone with him for more than two days in a row and yes, there’s been some lingering looks and touches but that doesn’t mean anything.

you can’t let your own deluded thoughts and desires get in the way of reality.

the reality that he’s your friend and roommate’s married father and you’re a college student. he doesn’t want you just as much as you shouldn’t want him so what’s the problem here?

maybe it’s that you’re a 22-year-old woman who’s only been on a handful of dates.

that the last time you made out with someone was when you were drunk and dared to kiss the first guy that walked through the bar (luckily, somewhat attractive and surprisingly polite).

that, maybe, you’re so horribly touch-starved and aching for affection, you’re trying to find it in a hot father figure who’s just as kind as he sexy - and that, you think, is the second most tragic thing here.

because the first would absolutely be thinking that any of this, any of these stares or touches or coincidences of eunbi leaving you two alone, means something.

means that maybe this break is for you two is create an attraction and build some sort of bond and-

“y/n.”

you’re barely able to register seonghwa’s voice before his arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling your body into his taller one and having you pressed up right against him.

you were so lost in thought of him that you didn’t see the older women skirting her cart around the aisle quickly, phone pressed to her ear as she yells to her husband about the christmas ham.

you’re not even sure if she shoots you a look of sorrow or utters any apology, too consumed and distracted by the feeling and proximity of mr. park.

his arm wrapped around you, your body pressed flush up against him, his neck craned down to look at you with a building... something in his eyes. playfulness and teasing but also something darker, something that makes your stomach swoop and renders you unable to move.

“are you always so clumsy and distracted?” he mumbles lowly, his deep voice quiet for only you two to hear - like he knows even in a sea of strangers, he has to keep these interactions quiet.

“what would you do if i wasn’t here to help you, y/n?”

i wouldn’t have been distracted in the first place, you’re tempted to say - but you certainly don’t wanna open that can of worms, especially not in the middle of this grocery store with the way your heart is pounding.

“i... i’m sorry, i was distracted,” you mutter, playing up the damsel in distress just a little bit. “my mistake, mr. park.”

he licks over his lips, swearing his name just being spoken has never effected him like this. he doesn’t even know where this attraction came from, seeing you leave the dorm building yesterday morning and something in his body jumping at the sight of you.

maybe it’s just showing how unhappy he really is with his life, living day to day to just work. hang out with his friends and go to sleep alone - he doesn’t remember the last time his wife touched him, looked at him like she wanted him or made any move to be with him.

he just knows that you showed up, looking so pretty and wide-eyed and coy, and is now about to lose his mind.

“it’s alright,” he says, hoping you don’t hear the thick tension he hears in his own voice, like he’s some idiotic, hormonal young boy. “i think we only have a few more aisles left, anyway.”

he plucks the remaining items off the shelves before you both make your way to the self check-out, him scanning and you bagging because “eunbi says if my career as a photographer fails, i could be the best grocery bagger ever.”

“that’s just because she puts the bread on the bottom,” seonghwa mutters, a smile on your face as you nod your head - she squished one too many of your brioche loafs before you realized bagging just wasn’t for her.

your fingers graze ever so often, the coldness of his tips a stark contrast to your warmer ones.

a particularly big, bulk bag of vegetables proves to be a challenge for you, working through the packed bag with some difficulty. you let out an annoyed groan as you play a dangerous game of tetris, trying not to rip open the brown paper bag.

you finally get the box inside, a little bit prouder than you care to admit, when your precious brioche loaf is dropped right atop. you look up at seonghwa to see him already apologizing, your brow raised as you look at the older man in confusion.

did he think your hand was out? why would he just throw the food at you?

but it’s only when you feel a little more air than normal on your chest that you see what could’ve possibly caused the distraction, the white lace from your bra sticking out.

your cleavage in this dress was hidden for the most part, only becoming a little more obvious when you moved around or packed a shitload of groceries. it makes you bite back a smirk as you put two and two together, looking up to see his eyes still lingering over you.

two can play at this game mr. park.

“mr. park,” you begin, feigning a certain kind of innocence as you place your bread atop the other groceries and finally look up at him. “are you always so clumsy?”

it takes a few seconds for a smile to pull at his lips, the tick in his jaw not going unnoticed to you - so maybe this wasn’t all in your head. maybe he wants you too... possibly.

“you’re funny, y/n,” he mumbles, a smile pulling at your lips as he takes out his black card. “i guess i was distracted, too.”

you swallow the lump in your throat as you feel the slightest hint of arousal run through you, shaking it off and letting out a forced, girlish chuckle.

you pack the car a few minutes later without any lingering eyes or touches, seonghwa telling you about the meals they plan on cooking for christmas.

they usually don’t make their own food for holidays but decided to have a more traditional set up for you and eunbi’s arrival - he also hasn’t cooked a meal for his family in god knows how long.

“that’ll be great, thank you,” you tell him, clicking your seatbelt in as he backs out the spot. “i’m kind of a picky eater but i’ll eat anything you guys provide me.”

“and you have the whole brioche loaf,” seonghwa says, a giggle leaving your mouth as you nod your head.

“true. it’s really good.”

“i’ve never tried, perhaps you’d be willing to-”

his wife’s name popping up on his car dashboard acts as a way to bring you back to reality, brings a certain kind of silence over the both of you for a few seconds.

like he wasn’t just rubbing his body against yours and you weren’t just flirting with him in the form of smirking lips and snarky comments.

you watch a twinge of annoyance behind seonghwa’s eyes, gaze roaming over the screen as if he’s in contemplation before muttering “one second.”

“hello?”

“where are you?” her voice snaps in annoyance, “i told you we had that board meeting at one.”

“and it’s only noon,” his deep voice mumbles, not matching her level of irritation but sounding a whole lot different than a few seconds ago. “me and y/n are coming back now.”

“y/n?” she spats, like it’s a disgusting piece of food she wouldn’t dare put in her mouth. “what about eunbi?”

“she went off with jiwoon before i could get her in the car.”

“so it was only you two?” she asks, the snide judgment and underlying tone in her voice causing your stomach to churn. “did she ask you to buy a bunch of-”

“i’ll be home in twenty and then be on my way over,” he says, cutting her off and hanging up before she can even get another word you.

your stomach churns and a sick feeling comes over you, her utter dislike and disdain for you causing you to bite your lip.

because not only does she not like you to be with her daughter, she doesn’t want you with her husband (although, you suppose, you can’t really blame her for that one).

“i’m sorry about that,” seonghwa winces, the silence lingering between you two heavy. “you could’ve gotten anything you wanted, y/n. this is your christmas too. don’t feel bad about anything, okay?”

you swallow the lump in your throat, your gaze moving to his as he stops at the red light.

your eyes lingering over his and his doing the very same, hand twitching to reach out and move the piece of hair from your slightly flushed face.

and there was something about the way you were both looking at each other, eyes so focused and unwavering and honest, that had you thinking maybe all of this wasn’t in your heads.

but it didn’t mean either of you could act on it - they were just... feelings of lust and wonder and all things forbidden, not seriously believing that a relationship like this could unfold right under the nose of his wife, his daughter and your roommate.

unless the pull was so desperate.

so overwhelming and all-consuming and present between the both of you, little moments couldn’t help but happen.

strike one:

with none other than eunbi as a distraction, the girl promising she wasn’t gonna leave you alone anymore, you were able to take your mind off everything.

the tension-filled, heart pounding moments with mr. park that felt just as wrong as they did right.

you spent a few nights going out with her, jiwoon and all of their high school friends, a surprisingly nice group of young adults who you got along well with.

they were loud and crazy and did far too many shots but they also seemed to be genuinely kind. even the boy who was flirting with you all night, handsome and tall with pretty dark eyes, acted as a good distraction.

grinding up against him as the music pounded throughout the bar, alcohol coursing through your veins allowing you to forget about the older man who’s been living in your head for almost a week now.

“how have i never met you before, y/n?” the boy mumbled lowly in your ear, your head against his shoulder carelessly.

but it was right there in that moment, him saying your name, that the moment was over.

because it just didn’t sound like seonghwa, as delusional as that was.

it didn’t get your heart racing or lips quirking the same way it did when you heard the older man say it. the smile attached to his handsome, mature face and the deep, lowly spoken tone that always held a hint of teasing and sincerity.

“but danny really is so freakin’ nice!” eunbi squeals to you on christmas eve, the two of you in her immaculately white and modern kitchen prepping the chocolate chip cookie cough for tomorrow.

“and you two seemed to be getting along, i saw your ass all up on him.”

“eunbi, that wasn’t me. that was the vodka. i don’t know who that girl was.”

she throws her head back as a loud chuckle leaves her, telling you again that she warned you her snobby, rich little friends have been able to handle their liquor since middle school.

it’s how they cope, she had said, unloved kids with more money than god learning to deal with the world of limitless funds and minimal parental supervision.

“well he hasn’t stopped asking me about you, you know,” she hums, her eyebrows quirked suggestively as she mixes the bowl of ingredients lazily.

“and not just because of your newfound grinding skills, which by the way, are usually learned by the tenth grade.”

your eyes narrow at her comment, throwing a small ball of dough at her that she, impressively, catches in her mouth.

“he really is just, like, so taken by you, y/n. seriously. i told him that you’re graduating this year with a degree in photography and he nearly came in his pants. he loves the artsy girls.”

“you are so vile,” you snort out, shaking your head at the girl sitting criss-crossed on the counter. “and stop saying that. we both know i’m not graduating this year,” you mumble, her face falling pathetically.

“i told you we’re gonna find a way,” she whines lowly, looking at you with all kinds of sympathy and sadness in her eyes - she would offer to pay for you, if she didn’t think you would smack her upside the head.

“oh and what? is my new boyfriend danny gonna do that for me?”

“in exchange for more grinding and a photoshoot, i think. do you want me to try?”

she lets out another giggle despite the way you pinch her leg, peeking inside the bowl with a surprising amount of pride.

"this looks good,” you mumble, swiping your finger to collect some of the chocolate dough.

“hey!” she whines brattily, thrusting a spoon toward your hand just a second too late.  

“why are you whining in here like a child, eunbi?” seonghwa asks, walking through the entryway and the large, white island in the center. “what are you making? please don’t burn the house down.”

“haha dad, you’re so funny,” she mocks sarcastically, jumping down from the counter with her hands on her hips. “where are the baking sheets?”

a simple shrug from her father causes her to roll her eyes, grumbling about how she was really trying to avoid her bitch of a mother today. he holds back his smirk, about to reprimand her before she’s out the kitchen and shouting for her mother upstairs.

it’s only you and seonghwa in the kitchen now, a heavy silence in the air as you stand there dumbly - bowl beside you, cookie dough adorning the top of your finger.

“what are you girls making?” he finally asks, his body moving closer and closer causing you to swallow.

“i... uh, cookie dough. for tomorrow,” you say, lifting your finger and wiggling the tip full of batter. “chocolate chip.”

his eyes move to your finger before grazing over your mouth, his tongue peeking out ever so slightly as he reminds himself to act right.

he hasn’t been alone with you since that day at the food store, just seeing you in passing in the hallways or outside the house as you and eunbi went to and fro.

he hears your giggles at night and tired groans in the morning, quietly yelling at his daughter to wake up and get her ass out of bed.

and he knows it’s probably for the better, that you two don’t find yourselves alone with each other, but he can’t help but feel a rush of excitement right now.

you watch as he moves closer, with the same wide-eyed look you’ve been giving him since he first saw you in your apartment weeks ago.

“ahh, you’re making it from scratch? that’s ambitious.”

“yeah, we googled a recipe,” you tell him, finger still beside you in the air.

you don’t know what causes you to be so bold, maybe him attempting to carry out a normal conversation even though he’s looking at you with so much lust and desire, but you can’t stop once you start.

“how’s it taste?” he asks, his voice deep and slightly strained as he nods his head toward your finger.

you don’t even bat an eye as you slip the tip of your finger in your mouth slowly, swirling your tongue around as you take up all the dough on your skin.

it’s sweeter than you originally thought it’d be but it tastes good nonetheless, keeping your eyes on him as you reamin as innocent and unassuming as possible.

“it’s good,” you say, dropping your finger like you didn’t just make a show of licking and sucking it. “i like it better raw.”

you don’t even realize your words until you see the fleeting look on his face, tongue swiping across his lip and eyes hardening. they roam you so slowly and darkly, you can’t control the growing butterflies and swooping in your lower stomach.

“mm, me too,” he hums lowly, the hardening of his cock in his pants something he hasn’t felt in forever. it’s taking everything in him to control himself, from his eyes popping out of his head to letting out the deepest of growls in the back of his throat.

“do you want some?” you ask, cocking your head to the side questioningly.

he has to desperately hold on to his composure, not think about how easy it’d be to pin you against the cabinet right behind you. take just a few steps closer, have your back against the cold granite and let you feel just how much he wants some.

but he has to play it cool, push down these building desires and ignore your teasing because he’s almost fucking positive that’s what’s happening here.

“want some what?” he asks, his voice lowering just a tad.

he hasn’t played a game like this since college, watching as your eyes widen and brow quirks up.

but he sees that’s exactly what it is when you turn around and face the bowl of cookie dough to him, a smile just as sweet as the cookies on your face.

“cookie dough. before we put them in the oven and possibly burn them.”

the breathy chuckle he lets out leaves your stomach in shambles, his tongue peeking out and poking the inside of his cheek causing a swooping sensation to flood through you.

but before he can even think to say anything, before your eyes can look over his body and make you feel even more warm and bothered, eunbi floats back in and fiddles in the cabinets for the baking sheets.

“that woman is too much, i swear,” she grunts, whipping out the materials quickly before her head snaps to her father. “why are you still here?”

“i wanted some cookies. and to ensure y/n won’t allow you do burn down the kitchen.”

“it was one time, dad, and an accident. how many times do i have to defend myself in this house?”

you let out a giggle as you look from eunbi to seonghwa, your roommate turning her back to set up the practice baking session.

“let’s go bitch! i hope we didn’t fuck this up.”

seonghwa’s eyes roam over you for a few more moments, his tongue swiping across his lips before, finally, leaving the kitchen with his dick hard as a rock.

strike two:

christmas consisted of successful cookies per your and eunbi’s homemade batch, passive aggressive comments from mrs. park about your degree and a whole fuck ton of sexual energy between you and seonghwa.

you could almost always feel when his gaze was boring into you, when you got up to take more mashed potatoes or kept your attention on eunbi as she told her parents about what job she wants to start at next semester.  

it’s also when eunbi almost let it slip about your scholarships, had you not viciously pinched her arm and caused a pained cry to leave her mouth - if you ever thought jiwoon was gonna verbally assault you, it was certainly in that moment.

“why did you pinch me so hard?” she whined later that night, jiwoon passed out on the couch after five too many homemade cookies. “look at my bruise.”

a genuine frown crosses your lips as you look at her arm, rubbing her skin gently as you mumble your soft spoken apologies.

“i’m sorry but i just... i didn’t want your mom to know that,” you say back just as whiney and pathetic. “she already thinks i’m an incompetent idiot. knowing i have to wait a whole year because i’m broke is just too embarrassing.”

it’s an admission that, while eunbi already suspected that, still makes her feel bad - it nearly makes her wanna cry, that you don’t feel welcomed and loved in her home because her mom has to be a judgmental bitch.

“y/n...”

“bi, it’s fine, oh, my god do not cry right now,” you grumble, flicking her in the head lightly.

“i just feel bad,” she cries lowly, moving hrself closer to you and away from her boyfried. “it’s not fair, y/n. you worked so hard and now you have to wait. how could they do this to you?”

a small, touched smile crosses your face at eunbi as you shake your head, dabbing at her watery eyes.

if jiwoon wakes up, he’s literally gonna beat my ass,” you say, smiling when a wet giggle leaves eunbi; you don’t want this time to be sad or upsetting. “i thought he was gonna hit me at dinner.”

“okay if he’s hitting anything, it’s gonna be my-”

“no. no, no, no.”

the snort that leaves her mouth doesn’t help the sinking feeling in her stomach, looking at you with a frown still adorning her face.

“i’m sorry if my mom’s making you feel uncomfortable. she does it to every single person ever and i don’t-”

“it’s fine, please stop apologizing for her,” you say, the sinking reminder in the back of your mind that seonghwa had been doing the very same thing - apologizing for that woman.

“i know she’s stressing you out, too. we’re in it together.”

“that’s true,” she sighs, letting out a long, dramatic groan before resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m so bloated, i don’t think i’m ever gonna be able to eat again.”

and it was funny that, days after the holiday, eunbi was still convinced that she was bloated from christmas dinner.

“babe, i don’t even think that’s possible,” jiwoon consoled her, you and him sitting in her room as she gets ready to go down to the pool.

because, naturally, like everyone in this godforsaken rich town, they get ready to go to the pool that’s inside of their homes; when eunbi told you to pack a bathing suit back at your apartment, you looked at her like she was insane.

until she clarified that her pool is heated and, conveniently, indoors.

“just through the backyard,” she had said - and she truly meant it.

just a few yards away from the main deck area, with floor to ceiling glass windows that showcase the extravagant landscaping and, of course, the outdoor pool and jacuzzi just a few feet away.

“eunbi, this is insane,” you say, marveling at the sight before you.

“don’t you wish you came sooner?” she asks with a wink, your eyes rolling as you place down your towel.

you had the option to bring two bathing suits - a skimpy black one you don’t remember being so scandalous or a red one you remember eunbi insisting you buy last summer.

and you just knew it was because danny was coming, currently showcasing his impressive eight pack that, truly, just doesn’t do it for you - maybe if he was twenty years older, apparently, and somebody’s father and husband.

you shake the thoughts out of your head, walking a few steps toward the pool before eunbi tackles you from behind. you both land with a loud splash, followed by the excited shouts and loud splashes of her other friends.

you’d be lying if you said you could remember the last time you had this much fun, splashing and giggling and acting so carefree despite the many challenges you’ll have to face soon.

but that’s not any of your concern right now, currently sitting atop danny’s shoulders and trying to knock down eunbi in a game of chicken.

“you little bitch! get your nails out of me!”

“coming from the girl who literally just tried to choke me two seconds ago!”

“like it’s your first time being choked!”

and you don’t know whether jiwoon was shocked by you saying that statement or the fact that his girlfriend exposes all of her sexual kinks to you but alas, it did the trick in sealing you a victory.

a smug smile on your face as danny jumps up and down in excitement, your body bouncing and nearly falling over him had you not gripped onto his shoulders.

it’s at that time eunbi pops up from the water, hair a soaking mess and mascara running down her face. she’s about to open her mouth, probably to yell at you, before a volleyball is thrown through the air and just misses her face.

instead, it hits danny square in the head. the boy letting out a yelp before you promptly fall backwards in the water, hearing eunbi’s shrill squeal and giggle on your way down.

you pop up and throw her a dirty look, danny rubbing at the back of his side before apologizing profusely.

“it’s okay,” you giggle out, about to say you shouldn’t have been up there for so long before eunbi’s squealing in the air.

“dad, what the hell kind of aim was that!”

you feel your body stiffen before you quickly shoot around, none another than mr. park standing there looking as handsome as ever.

he puts the young men around you to shame, good-looking, muscular college boys who anyone in their right mind would find attractive - but they just don’t beat him.

his striking eyes or tall, lean stature or the fact that he’s just so fucking-

“got worse with age, bi, what can i say?” he chuckles, extra white fluffy towels in his hold that he places on the chair. “sorry, danny.”

seonghwa’s known danny for a few years now, one of jiwoon’s friends who seems... alright. not a bad guy but also not a good guy - just kind of there; but it didn’t occur to the man just how much he was bothered by him until he saw you on his shoulders.

because he could’ve put you in danger, of course. put you in danger at his house where if things got bad, he’d be responsible; as for the ball, it merely slipped from his finger tips.

“no problem mr. park,” the kid smiles, the other friends gathering around and looking at him expectantly. “we’re gonna play a round of volleyball. you in?”

“no. no dads allowed,” eunbi whines, seonghwa rolling his eyes at his bratty adult daughter.

“why not? because i’m better than all of you, eunbi?”

“oh please,” she grumbles lowly, rolling her eyes and grabbing you to lead you toward the stairs. “you know what, we’re going in the hot tub anyway. since she decided to rock my shit in chicken. enjoy my father traitors,” eunbi grumbles to jiwoon and his friends.

“i did not,” you protest weakly, feeling two pairs of eyes on you as you make your way out of the pool with your friend.

the first thing that strikes seonghwa, apart from the major twitch in his pants, is how skimpy your bikini is.

red bottoms with thin straps holding it up, a matching red top showcasing cleavage and beauty marks on your chest and all the things that are proving to drive him fucking crazy upon seeing you every day.

it’s taking everything in him to control the growing ache in his shorts, your eyes looking at him so coyly and attentively that you’re ignoring the college boy gawking at you right in front of him.

there’s a certain sort of twisted pride in his chest, you giving him attention and seemingly reciprocating his interest, when there’s someone younger right there for you.

younger and unmarried and more suitable for you. someone you can actually be with where it wouldn’t be considered dirty or wrong or secretive; but maybe that’s why you’re both drawn to it in the first place.

that, and because you’re both really hot.

“he’s literally hot, y/n! why don’t you like him?” eunbi whines to you, the two of you sitting across from one another in the hot tub outside.

the december air is crisp but feels nice comapred to the steaming water you’re gratefully submerged in. anything to take you away from mr. park shirtless and wet in the pool right now.

“i do like him, bi,” you mutter, trying your best to convince her and now seem suspicious.

“okay, yeah, as a person but who cares about that!” she whines, flopping her hands dramatically in the water. “you don’t want him to rail you.”

“eunbi!” you squeak, splashing in her direction as a warm, embarrassed blush rises to your cheeks.

“i’m serious y/n. you’ve never been railed before and danny’s such a good option. he’s hot and he’s sweet and he’s so pathetically into you, it’s a little sick.”

you don’t know what to say so you don’t say anything, shooting her a look that screams can we please not talk about this because you don’t know how much i actually wanna be railed by your father so let’s stop this discussion.

but she only rolls her eyes, moving herself closer to you so she can tug at your arm annoyingly.

“is he just not your type?” she questions, her eyebrows pulling together in confusion for a few moments before utter shock crosses her face.

“wait, what is your type? it’s... men, right? have i been hooking you up with the wrong gender this whole time?” she asks in disbelief, “could we have been hooking up this whole time?”

you press your lips together so you don’t burst out laughing, dryly replying “yes, eunbi, i’m into men.”

but the more you think about it, the more you think maybe you don’t have a type.

“and i’ve... never really thought about it before, to be honest. i just know i’m not into like... frat guys or whatever.”

because any party you’d been to, any douchey college guy wearing a backwards hat or cut off shirt, you had never been more disinterested. you couldn’t ever picture yourself falling for someone like that, romantically or sexually.

the one time you remember thinking someone was hot was when you took film and lit with your 31-year-old professor.

“so older guys?” eunbi concludes after hearing that, a smirk on her face as she raises her eyebrows playfully. “we gotta scope out some golf courses or retirement homes?”

“please,” you scoff, a giggle leaving her mouth as she throws her head back gleefully.

“okay, really though, i’ll tell danny you’re not interested and to stop trying so hard if you’re really not interested.”

but maybe danny as a distraction will be good.

will make you see that, perhaps, someone single and your own age and not your best friend’s father will be good thing for you to explore.

so you shrug lightheartedly, the smirk on your face causing eunbi to let out a low “oooh shit.”

you look over at her and your smile only widens when she knocks your shoulder, saying that you’re looking to be a play girl and drain a rich, lovesick man of some christmas presents.

“yeah, right! why drain a rich man when i can drain my best friend,” you tease, looking around her yard and still in astonishment that this is really her life. “i mean, two pools? is that really necessary?”

“three actually. there’s one behind the guest house on the other side. a small one. very humble.”

“oh, a small one, okay. great.”

she lets out another giggle, the two of you talking over plans for new years eve.

you might go up to jiwoon’s parents house in the mountains for the weekend, spend the time drinking with the small group of friends you’ve come to genuinely like over these past few weeks.

“it’s only two hours away so it won’t be that bad either,” she says, getting up to shake the hot water off her arms. “i’ll be right back, i have to pee.”

you nod your head, grateful she didn’t piss in the pool and allowing yourself to sit there, eyes closed, body relaxed, in the silence.

you can hear the faint screams of the boys from the indoor pool area and the swish of the hot tub filter, peeking open your eyes when, suddenly, you think you hear a boom of thunder in the distance.

you watch the sky darkening and clouds coming in, signaling a storm is coming in soon and quick. a sigh leaves your mouth, enjoying your last few moments of peace before finally standing in the hot tub.

the crisp winter air blows and sends goosebumps up your arms, a shiver running through your body as you attempt to splash some hot water on your upper body.

you don’t know how you know someone’s watching you but you do, some sort of strange intuition within you looking up to see none other than mr. park standing a few feet away from the hot tub.

his dark hair is wet and hanging in his face, swimming trunks soaked and his exposed chest still dripping chlorine water.

you press your lips together as your eyes roam his chest, a hint of abs on his lean stomach that causes a small, strangled groan to leave your mouth - you will never understand how this man is pushing 40.

but the same way you’re looking at him, he’s looking at you.

water covering your body, currently hunched over trying to warm the rest of your body; but it’s when you stand he really starts to gawk, your figure standing full and tall and giving him a perfect view of your hardening nipples from the cold crisp air.

you can see the lust in his eyes the same way you know he can and you’re about to do something to just make him crack. mistakingly untie your bottoms, catching them at the last second so he thinks he’s about to get a peak.

or undo the back of your top and pout at him, ask him to please tie it back for you because it’s way too hard to reach behind and do it yourself.

or maybe you’ll just drop to your knees right there, try to see if there’s any hint of a bulge in his swimming trunk bottoms and-

his body is gone just as fast as he arrived, confusion covering your face before you shake your head of your perverted thoughts - dropping to your knees when his daughter and wife are right here, what the fuck is wrong with you today?

you blame eunbi, all her talk about getting railed when you’ve been wanting to jump her father’s bones.

you carefully make your way out of the hot tub, not wanting to eat shit and scarp your leg on the concrete.

it feels like you’re about to freeze in the cold, another shiver wracking your body before you turn to stick your cold, goosebump-ridden arms back in the hot tub. it warms you for just a few seconds, a low, satisfied hum leaving your mouth before you hear footsteps coming up from behind you.

something in you tells you it’s him again.

whether it be the way your body heats up and feels prickly, the obvious feeling of eyes burning into your exposed back causing you to remain still and oblivious.

but you can longer remain oblivious a few seconds later, when a tall body is just a few inches away from completely pressing against you.

“you forgot a towel,” is all he says, placing it on the wet rim of the hot tub.

when he leans forward to place the white towel down, he’s careful and meticulous with his movements. brushing up against you every so slightly and carefully that you can feel his hard bulge on your ass for a few seconds too long.

at first you think you’re crazy, feeling what you were trying to envision in your head, but then you absolutely know it there’s.

you can feel the wetness from his bathing suit on your legs, his cock right there resting on the thin, red fabric of your bikini bottoms and if you were as weak as you felt inside, if he stayed there just a little bit longer, a moan would’ve absolutely left your mouth.

if you pushed back just a little to feel more of his cock on you, grind your ass his hardness just enough to hear him let out a low groan or maybe curse a little.

but he moves away, almost like he knew the perfect amount of time before that happened and almost like he did it by accident - but when you turn around and see the look in his eyes, you know it wasn’t.

the same way he can see a palpable desire and surprise and tension in your gaze, causing him to suppress a growing smirk. it makes you wanna tease him back in whatever way you can but you know that eunbi’s due back from the bathroom at any moment.

so you only cock your head to the side, lick over your lower lip carefully as you grasp the towel in your hands gently.

“thank you, mr. park,” you say, your voice as airy and sweet as you can possibly make it without sounding like an idiot.

“you’re welcome, y/n,” he says, taking a few steps back as his eyes lock on you. he stays there for a few moments until he hears the door to the pool house open.

you watch his lustful, dark expression change right then and there, a towel wrapping around his lower body and his face stretching into a happy, father-approved look.

“so you’re good with anything for dinner, y/n?” he asks, his voice loud and clear enough for his approaching daughter to hear. “i know you mentioned you were picky.”

“let’s get pizza!” eunbi screeches through the air, telling seonghwa that everyone’s staying over and they’ll need at least four boxes.

but you can’t even think about pizza right now, not when this moment right here is solidifying the crazy thought in your head that your best friend’s dad wants you just as much as you want him.

you called him out later that night around one a.m., after eunbi and jiwoon were the last to pass out to your scary movie marathon.

the others were sprawled out on the basement floor, an intricate array of blankets and pillows on the floor that you attempted to weave through, both, skillfully and quietly.

there was a dryness in your throat that could only be settled by a cold glass of water, making your way through the house quietly and praying you don’t run into mrs. park.

she’s been just as passive aggressive as she usually is in front of people so you could never imagine being alone with her. wondering what the hell she’d say to you without seonghwa and eunbi as buffers.

you were relieved when the lights were off in the kitchen, padding your way to the fridge to take out a bottle of water. you twist and turn the cap off to gulp down the cold liquid in the refrigerator light, a quiet gasp leaving you as your thirst is quenched.

you briefly consider going up to eunbi’s room to sleep tonight, not sure how you feel about being squished in with eunbi and jiwoon cuddling on the couch, when the light suddenly flicks off.

it causes you to freeze and halt all thoughts, fear running through you for all three seconds before you see seonghwa’s tall, familiar figure pass you. you watch him carefully in the dim light of the fridge, his shirtless chest yet again right in front of your face.

leaned back against the counter across from you, giving you a perfect view of his toned chest and gray sweatpants.

“midnight snack?” he asks, the smirk on his face almost causing you to roll your eyes.

instead, your lips quirk into a small smile. raising your water bottle by your head and shaking it, the water swishing in your pounding ears.

“just water,” you respond quietly, matching his low tone. “i hope that’s okay.”

“that you took water? of course, y/n,” he says, amusement in his gaze as he looks you over.

you’re freshly showered and in a pair of pajamas, matching pink sets that eunbi got you for christmas one year - he remembers because he was with her when she bought it.

a soft smile crosses your face, your back getting cold from the open fridge but not daring to move a muscle. not with him looking at you the way he is and with his body just a few feet away from you.

a silence lingers in the kitchen, you not sure why he’s looking at you and him waiting to see if you say something, before he bites the inside of his cheek.

“i wanted to say sorry about before.”

your eyebrow quirks up, interest so clearly peaked as you cock your head to the side.

“what do you mean?”

a smirk crosses his face as he watches you play dumb, head cocked and eyes wide and everything about you with such mock innocence, he thinks that’s what’s driving him the most crazy.

that you do this shit and say certain things with almost complete unawareness and innocence, if it weren’t for the hidden look of desire and teasing in your eyes.

“you know,” is all he says, his voice dipping and eyes twinging darker, it makes your lower stomach swoop.

a part of is positive, even if you ask, he’s not gonna say it aloud.

he’s not gonna say or acknowledge any of this aloud and make you guys play this game until you leave in a few weeks.

and then when you leave, unsure about your next prospects of college or education or even living arrangements, who knows if you’re ever gonna see him again.

so you only hum lowly, closing the fridge behind you and leaving you both in darkness. the only source of light is from the moon outside, lighting up half the kitchen from the large bay window.

it leaves you both incredibly exposed, anyone from the outside able to see the two seemingly innocent bodies standing toe to toe with each other; but they don’t see the lustful looks and eyes full of desire, both of you so entrapped by the other, it’s obvious with the tension in the air.

“oh, well, then... it’s okay, mr. park,” you say with a smile, taking a step back as your eyes roam his chest one last time. “i didn’t mind.”

you’re about to say goodnight when you see his arm reach out, shocked but oh, so ready ready to give into your desire and feel your body crash against his or your lips connect finally.

moan into his mouth and feel more of his hardness against you - but he only takes the water from your hand, presses his mouth against the plastic rim and swigs down a big gulp.

you watch with wide eyes as his adam’s apple bobs in the moonlight, head tipped back and body perched calmly on the counter as he takes a swig of your water bottle, spit exchanged and his mouth right where yours was.

he pulls back with an unreadable expression, licking the excess water from his lips before simply closing the cap, holding out the bottle and smiling at you with the most wise-ass smirk you’ve ever seen, you’re not sure how you’re ever gonna one up this man.

"sweet dreams, y/n.”

strike 3:

your new years weekend get away turned into an extended stay that consisted of sleeping on a lumpy air mattress, five extra guests and so much alcohol, you’re positive you’re still hungover three days later.

“it wasn’t that... we only did a... i mean it wasn’t like we were....” eunbi says, the two of you laying on her bed nursing headaches and body aches to the severest degree.

“okay, it was pretty bad. we were kind of rowdy and out of control.”

“you don’t say?” you grumble, never one to black out and get that shit faced and then doing it nearly every night - maybe to deal with danny’s pathetic soft looks or whispered sweet nothings to you.

“nothing is working either. not advil or water or greasy food. we might’ve fucked ourselves for life, bi.”

but if there’s one thing that always helped for eunbi, it was a nice, long bath. steaming hot water that burned her skin and the prettiest bath bombs to make the entire bathroom smell of strawberries and cream.

so even though you didn’t want to, nothing more comfortable than eunbi’s king size bed and warm, fluffy comforter, you allowed the girl to drag you to the bathroom down the hall to set up ‘your last resort, hangover paradise.’

it consisted of every type of bath bomb and lotion and bubble bath the luxurious could dream of, sending her out immediately when you saw her sneaking in with a glass of champagne.

“are you crazy?” you ask, dipping your toe in the water to test the temperature. “that’s what started this disaster.”

“fine, more for me!” she squeals happily, turning down the lights and pressing the bluetooth button for your phone’s music. “enjoy. i’ll see you in an hour, completely hangover free.”

“we’ll see about that,” you grumble, your words falling on deaf ears as she locks and closes the door to makes her way back to her ensuite.

and as much as you wanna give eunbi shit for her pompous tactics and techniques for everything in life, you have to say that this is certainly helping.

soaking in the steaming hot water, with cucumbers on your eyes and quiet music playing through the ceiling speakers. the jets in the tub also added another layer of relaxation to it, healing your sore muscles from days of waking up on a hard, wooden floor.

the mirrors were steamed and the room was boiling by the time you got out, stepping on the fuzzy bath mat and drying yourself off with a towel. you had tried not to get your hair wet but it proved useless, your relaxed body sinking further and further down until nearly your whole head was wet.

you stretch your arms above your head as you let out a content groan, feeling the best you’ve felt in three days and ready to take a nap.

but it’s at that moment, looking around the large steaming bathroom, that you realized you didn’t bring a change of clothes in. meaning you’ll know have to walk done the hall and into eunbi’s room in just a towel.

it’s fairly late, almost 11:30, so you’re hoping that her parents are in their rooms and fast asleep by now.

you peak your head out, feeling like a spy in a cheesy action movie as you look up and down the hall. you turn off the light once the coast is clear, walking quietly but quickly down to eunbi’s room - or wing, as it could be considered

you’re almost out of the gate, just a few more steps until you round the corner down eunbi’s hallway, when seonghwa’s tall figure is coming right up the stairs.

his head is down as he looks at his phone, still in his dress shirt and tie from his long day at work. you noticed that after the holidays, he’s been around the house less - working from home when he can but also needing to go into the office more often than not.

he’s at the top of the stairs when he finally notices your figure watching him, wrapped in a towel with a flush on your cheeks and your wet hair dripping on the floor.

it seems to be the thing to break him right now, not able to tear his eyes away or think of any fun, flirty comments to keep you from suppressing the need to roll your eyes.

because his days have been long and stressful and the only thing he needs right now is to just get off - and then there you are like something his prayers have answered, standing there quiet and awestruck at the sight of his loose tie and messy black hair he’s been running his hands through all day.

“h-hi, mr. park,” your quiet voice says, sweet and soft-spoken and utterly apologetic, like you’re embarrassed to be caught in just your towel - and he supposes that would make sense, to feel embarrassed about getting caught like this your friend’s father.

but he can’t find it in himself to care right now, two seconds away from dragging you down to his office so he can finally fuck you over his desk - but he knows that would be the worst decision in the world, for countless reasons.

“hi, y/n,” he grumbles back just as low, leant against the railing with a voice that sounds defeated and gruff.

“are you okay?” you ask, something about his voice and demeanor off.

he has to hold back a strangled laugh, his lips quirking up before he bites down on his lip.

“i’m... i’m fine, thanks. work’s just busy,” he says, a certain part of his chest warming at the fact you even asked - he knows his wife won’t when he walks in their bedroom in a few minutes.

“oh, okay,” you respond, twirling with the end of your towel nervously. “well... i’m sorry to hear that.”

he allows himself to let out a chuckle this time, shaking his head as he looks over your bare, wet face; you’re too pretty for your own good, he’s not even sure you realize just how pretty you are.

just how much he really wants you and just how much he’s coming to like seeing you in his house everyday.

“it’s alright, that’s why you gotta do something you love, right?” he quips, his long fingers up to recreate a camera, pressing down as if to snap a photo.

it cause you to let out a soft, genuine giggle, nodding your head and easing the slight embarrassment of him catching you in a towel.

“right,” you say with a smile, shy smiles and gazes shared until you finally look away in fear of your cheeks warming again.

but it doesn’t stop him from admiring the view of you, your bare face and exposed chest before the towel covers up all the parts he wants to so desperately explore.

he pictures dropping your towel and hearing it fall to the floor with a plop, take in the sight of your perky boobs and hard nipples in the air.

drop his mouth just a little bit to your neck, pressing small kisses against your skin as his fingers knead your nipples, all the quiet moans and breaths to make sure you two don’t get caught shooting right to his cock.

he probably wouldn’t be able to control himself, sliding a finger into you right then and there in the middle of the hallway, pressing your back against the wall to have you trapped against his larger body.

he’d pump his finger in and out of you slowly and tauntingly, hearing how wet you are and feeling how tight you are. it’d be similiar to how this past month has just been both of you taunting and teasing and beating around the bush, occasionally letting his fingers curl to his your g-spot or graze your sensitive clit.

and then he’d drop to his knees to taste you. make sure he sucks and licks and takes your clit in his warm mouth that you’re-

“i should get back to eunbi,” you finally say, breaking the silence and ripping him from his dirty, hidden fantasies. you can’t take the lust and desire in his eyes that you see when he looks at you, an painful ache building between your legs more and more.

“goodnight, mr. park.”

you nearly run into eunbi’s room and slam the door had you not seen her sleeping form, passed out right there in the middle of her bed wearing a baby pink robe.

you look beside her to see an extra one laid out, a silky lilac one that causes a small smile to cross your face.

you’ve never felt material like this on your skin, basking in the feeling of the smooth, silky material as you clean up her room quietly - both to tidy up and distract you from the ache in your legs and last encounter with her father.

for eunbi growing up with housekeepers and nannies her whole life, it always surprised you how clean and tidy your roommate was; the sink was never full of dishes and you alternated vacuuming the living room carpet.

but it’s obvious all of that is a facade because since the moment she got home, her messy ways have shown through - you find it endearing, though, and it’s all very eunbi: a homey, lived in mess of luxurious items and articles of clothing worth more than your childhood home.

the girl in question had moved to the right side in her sleep as you cleaned, a quiet chuckle leaving your mouth. you look to see both your water bottles are empty, deciding on the brave decision to go downstairs to grab two new ones.

the last time you’d done that, you thought for sure mr. park was gonna jump your bones - and you know you were gonna let him.

your mind is littered with memories of that night as you make your way through the dark house of twists and turns, carefully going down the stairs as you walk toward the kitchen.

there’s a room with beautiful double doors on your left, a room you’ve walked past hundreds of times throughout your stay here. eunbi told you it was her dad’s first floor office, where he usually worked and had his meetings from home.

the first thing you notice from down the hall is that the door is slightly cracked open, a peak in from the dimly lit kitchen showcasing some fancy decor of a globe.

as you make your way closer and closer, your ears are met with a quiet, strangled groan that causes you to stop in your tracks; your mind begins to race with a million different scenarios of what you could be walking past right now.

your first thought is that you’re about to see mr. and mrs. park in a very compromising position over his desk - and, as sick as it sounds, as delusional and crazy and absurd as it sounds, that prospect makes your stomach sink and twist painfully.

but that would be normal, you suppose; they’re a fucking married couple after all and seonghwa had seemed stressed from work. obviously he was gonna ask his wife to help calm him down and relax him.

get all of his stress out in the form of-

you shake your head before you can even think about it, forcing your feet to move past the office doors.

and it’s like you can’t even stop yourself from peeking in, confirming to see if your thoughts are correct and you’re about to be gutted, when you take in the sight before you.

seonghwa still in his loose tie and white dress shirt, pants around his ankles and his head thrown back in his office chair as his own hand jerks his cock off.

everything about it is dirty and wrong and you know you shouldn’t be looking in but you can’t stop.

you can’t stop watching the way his hand works around his cock expertly, long and thick and so fucking nice it nearly makes you drool. the thought of you on your knees before him, taking him in your mouth and licking and sucking around the tip, making you bite back a moan.

you can’t stop your eyes from looking at his face, his head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut with his neck on display - perfect for you to bite and give hickies, if you were on top straddling him.

you can’t stop the painful ache and wetness seeping in your thong as you watch him get off, his groans and grunts and heavy breaths making you wanna whine out in arousal.

and it’s that suppression right there, getting so worked up and horny over the sight of your peeping tina activities, that cause you to pull yourself away.

because as much as you don’t want to and as much as you wanna help him, you can’t.

you can only scramble into the kitchen and get water as fast and quiet as humanly possible, scurrying past the office and up the stairs with the stealthiness of a lion.

you can only lay in bed with the thoughts of your roommate’s father and the noises he makes, the sight of his cock and the hand movements replaying over and over in your mind.

and you realize that night, with only a few more days until you both have to leave for the spring semester, you can only hope to never see mr. park again.

let this flirtation and fascination and utterly screwed up infatuation with your roommate’s dad be nothing but a dirty memory you’ll keep to yourself for the rest of your life.

because if it’s not, if you have to see him again and have him in your daily life again, you won’t be able to hold yourself back.

your lust will turn deeper and you’ll find yourself in a much bigger issue than damp underwear and secret, forbidden moments with mr. park seonghwa.

you should’ve known with only two days left of your stay that eunbi was gonna let the news slip.

you were at least grateful for the fact that mrs. park had a charity ball with her clan of “botox getting, bitchy sounding gold diggers who need to desperately get laid,” successfully riding her of your last friday night dinner.

“so you girls don’t want a new apartment then?” seonghwa asked, glass of wine in his hand as he looks at the two of you questioningly. “that building’s looking for a new owner, eunbi, i think it’d be perfect for you both.”

“dad don’t be ridiculous, we can’t own the building!” eunbi says, swatting her dad playfully as she shovels a piece of food in her mouth. she’s casual and comfortable without her mom’s prying eyes and biting tone, her foot resting on the white fabric beneath her.

“and besides, i might be alone in there soon. we still don’t know if y/n is gonna be starting her-”

you kick the girl under the table roughly, her face pulling into a wince as a cry leaves her mouth.

“ow, y/n! what the he-”

but it’s upon seeing your white face and annoyed expression that she realizes what she said, her mouth falling open and silent as she looks at you apologetically.

“oh shit...”

you can only shoot her a pained, sarcastic smile, daringly looking at seonghwa who’s watching the two of you with a curious expression.

“what do you mean?”

silence hangs in the air, you and eunbi sharing side eyes and dejected looks with her dad before he cocks an eyebrow at the both of you.

“girls... what do you mean?” he asks, his voice deeper and more serious, taking on a dad-like tone eunbi isn’t used to hearing from her relaxed, playful father.

and that’s when, before eunbi can open her big mouth any further, you calmly and regretfully explain the situation with your scholarship.

how you got an e-mail a few months ago about alternate funding for the art department and that you were one of the many students who, while keeping up your end of requirements, could not be awarded money.

“it’s awful that they can do that,” seonghwa says, his eyes full of the same sympathy and outrage eunbi’s held - except he knows that this happens all the time. that it’s unfair and sick and a big ploy in the education system that needs incredible reform.

especially when it hurts students like you.

“yeah but it is what it is,” you say, trying your hardest to steer the conversation to literally anything but this (in fear that you’ll scream or start crying or have yet another anxiety attack).

“i can just finish up in the fall, it’s no big deal,” you lie through our teeth, a sad smile on your face as you look at eunbi. “i’m just sorry it messes up our combined graduation party.”

a frown crosses eunbi’s face as she smacks you in the arm, pulling you closer to her just so she could cuddle herself into your arm.

“i will wait for you,” she proclaims dramatically, a pout on her lips and starry-eyed look in her gaze. “i will wait as long as i have to. if they delay it any further, father, you will simply have to sue the school.”

“father, huh?” seonghwa hums lowly, his lips quirking into a smirk.

father is the term eunbi uses when she wants to use him and his money, whether it be blackmailing unfair teachers or shitty students or calling for him when her and her mom are fighting.

“yes, father,” she says, looking to you with a sweet, apologetic smile on her face.

“i’m serious, y/n. we got your back,” she quips with a wink, a pained smile on your face that she knows means you can’t wait to let her have it when you two are alone.

“you had one job, eunbi, and you were doing so good,” you say in her room later that night, pacing back and forth as she sits on her bed like a scolded child. “literally two nights left and you let it slip out!”

“i’m sorry, okay!” she whines for the ninth time, a pout on her face as she plays with fingers; you wanna roll your eyes seeing it, knowing for a fact that’s something she does when she’s in trouble with jiwoon.

“i didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!” she begins to defend, “and it was only my dad! he wouldn’t dare say a bad word about you, y/n, he loves you.”

you ignore the twinge in your chest when you hear her say those words, feeling a tad guilty at the bodily reaction you have about her own father. how much you’re hiding from her and that you have these suppressed feelings and secret moments in the first place.

“loves me or not, bad word or not, it’s still embarrassing, eunbi,” you say, a frown on your lips as you start to hear the situation aloud. 

“i still can’t pay for my tuition and have to wait almost a whole year to take a degree in fucking photography. like how embarrassing is that, all of this just for me never find a job and live in a box.”

you’ve only seen a flash of anger on eunbi’s face a few times in your life, the incident with the dorm girls and her dad and when a sorority girl tried to kiss jiwoon at the bar.

and you see it right now, her small but mighty frame jumping off the bed and lunging toward you quickly.

“are you kidding me!” she squeals, smacking you in the arm and pushing you down on the bed.

“what the hell do you mean a degree in fucking photography? or living in a box? you’re gonna be the best photographer in the world and shoot every event in my life and charge me quadruple the amount!”

a smile pulls at your lips as you hear her go on and on, hype you up and build up your confidence and tell you to never talk that way about yourself again. how there’s nothing embarrassing about not being able to afford thousands of dollars when you were alerted about the expense on such short notice.

“okay, okay, i know that,” you eventually give in, letting out a sigh as you flop down on her bed. “it’s just.... stressful. i can’t move back home but i also need to get like, a real job. a job that’s gonna pay well so i can save up as much as possible.”

“and we’ll find you that when we get back,” she says, assuring with a confident look in her eye and her hands in yours. “i can promise you, with or without my father’s connections, we’re getting you a job.”

her words prove to reassure you for the remainder of the night, when, after she kisses your ass a little more, asks if she can go to jiwoon’s for a little.

you spent that time in her room looking at nearby job offerings and building up your resume and cover letters, working well into the night hours with a text from jiwoon that she fell asleep and will be back in the morning.

you stretch your arms above your head with a quiet groan, noting it’s almost one o’clock and you’re fucking parched yet again.

it’s no surprise to you when the lights in the kitchen are on, dimly light and no noise around as you pad your way to the fridge.

you almost expect the footsteps that come in a few moments later, when you take a sip from your water and close the fridge without hesitation.

“have you told your parents about tuition?”

you’re confused by the statement that leaves seonghwa’s mouth, brows pulled together and a sinking feeling in your stomach at this conversation again - because as if tuition wasn’t enough, he just had to bring up your parents.

but you don’t wanna beat around the bush any longer; you two seem to do that enough.

“me and my parents don’t talk,” you say, straight forward and quiet as you look right at him.

it’s the first time he sees you look a little broken and defeated, a certain kind of sadness shining behind your eyes that makes him wanna pull him into you. it feels like a protective instinct he’s used to, caring for the people in his life and not wanting to see them struggle.

“they wouldn’t help me anyway.”

this protective instinct feels a little different in this moment, something else tugging in his chest that he hasn’t felt in a very long time - not until he started seeing you more.

“but it’d be a shame if you didn’t finish, y/n. you got so far and you’ve done so well for yourself.”

you smile a little at the praise, tongue rolling over your lips in a way he certainly doesn’t miss - but this moment isn’t about that. it’s not something he cares even a little bit about right now.

“thank you, mr. park, but i am gonna finish,” you say with finality, the confident and sure tone making a strange sort of pride swell inside of him.

“i just have to save up money and i’ll start in the fall. it’s really not that big of a deal,” you tell him with a smile, taking a few steps back so you don’t feel too crowded by him.

“eunbi’s gonna help me look for jobs when i get back,” you say, a teasing smile pulling at your lips as you look at him. “a big girl job. something real and hard, that’s gonna make me super stressed and agitated.”

so much so that i have to get off at the thought of you.

a deep chuckle bubbles out of him that you match with ease, the two of you sharing small smiles and quiet giggles in the middle of this spotless, white kitchen.

“can’t do what you love quite yet, i guess,” seonghwa says, his eyes roaming your face so slowly and carefully, it makes you a tad bit nervous.

you hadn’t realized how natural and easy this conversation was between you two, like you were talking to someone you’d known your whole life opposed to someone you’ve barely known for four years.

his hand itches to reach up and touch your hair, tuck the soft, silky looking strand behind your ear and watch your cheeks heat up when your skin touches; but instead, he smiles down at you, inching closer until he’s just looming over you and staring down at you with a soft, undetectable look in his eye.

“but it’ll be worth it in the end, i think. it’s just gonna... take some time.”

you lick over our lips, throat and mouth suddenly so incredibly dry, as you nod your head.

“yeah, i think so, too,” you say, your lips smushing together nervously before you open your mouth to speak again - this could be one of the last times you’re alone with him.

“thank you for letting me stay with you guys, mr. park. it’s been... really nice spending time with people for the holidays.”

he feels his heart twinge in his chest again, his eyes falling down to your lips and swearing he’s never wanted to kiss someone so bad in his life.  

“of course, y/n, it’s been a pleasure,” he says, a smile quirking at his lips with a hint of something you just can’t quite make out. “maybe we’ll see each other again soon.”

it was five days before classes started that you got the confirmation e-mail - a message confirming your tuition for the spring semester was paid in full and your current balance was $0.

you had to look over the message for three whole hours making sure you had read the e-mail correctly, even going as far to call the bursar office to make sure they had the correct address.

but they had confirmed with surety that your balance was paid off, urging you to quickly sign up for the classes you need before the day was over.

“okay, you will never believe what interview i was able to score for you,” eunbi says the moment she walks in the apartment, shopping bags up her arm and gucci sunglasses perched atop her head.

“i’ll admit, the vibe was a little off with the coworkers but i think it’d be a great opportunity to-” her eyes catch your laptop screen on the school website, a list of classes and times on your screen that causes her eyes to widen.

“oh?” she squeals, running over and throwing herself down on the couch beside you. “what the heck are you doing? are you... did you...?”

the lie came way too quick and easy to you, excitedly blabbering out that there was a change in the system and your scholarship was approved - “i think they felt bad that i was a graduating senior,” you said, eunbi’s face pulled into the happiest smile you’ve ever seen.

she clapped and danced and bounced around in excitement, proclaiming you guys just had to go out and get drinks to celebrate the fact that your surprise party was back on.

but you could only sit there with your thoughts and suspicions and this overwhelming feeling deep within your stomach that, while eunbi definitely doesn’t know, her father might’ve just paid your college tuition in full.

(part 2)

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[sukirichi]

hi suki! wanted to tell you this bc i have no one else to talk about it with ><

( you can answer this when the English chapter releases! i was able to read it because my friend bought the WSJ issue)

I was trying to udnerstand Naoy's character, so I was reding everything from CH138-151 again. I'm kinda sad at how people just calls Naoya a Toji fanboy (though true LMAO) and not realizing how Toji really influenced his persona. Like the admiration Naoya held for Toji is so deeply engraved in him that he, who was called a genius sorcerer as a child, looks up to a man who was called a failure. Toji is probably the only man in the clan that he respected, that's why toji's level of strength became his "picture" to follow. And I think a lot of who Naoya has become is because the Zen'ins literally groomed the decency out of him. Still, though groomed to be everything he is, he himself chose not to change anything about it.

(wait but also?? little naoya looks cute like he would guide old ladies on the ped xing so what the fuck happened after that)

I guess one major reason why he does not respect anyone else in the clan (besides his superiority complex) is because of the Zen'in's concept of what is marked as strong. Like, the way they see and treated him as if he's the best sorcerer in the making, yet failing to see Toji's powers and rejecting him fully. It's something similar to Mai when she said "Maki has talent that I don't. And the clan rejected that; that talent that I lacked", except Naoya is raised to be a confident (arrogant?) child, thus he takes it as a challenge instead and works to achieve it.

So, when Maki reached the level of Toji, I think his reaction wasn't simply stemmed on his "fanboy" antics, but his desperation of being part of that level of strength. I think he's more irritated in the fact that Maki, someone who he does not see anywhere near as strong as he is (though he does say Maki is strong in chapter 138), reached a level of strength that he hasn't; that he is trying hard to achieve. It's also the same with having your favorite superhero getting defeated. And Naoya's in denial that there is someone else who could be the same as Toji.

I like how he's an antagonist that was not build under the foundation of a sob backstory (though it was a v small sneak peak of his background and was mainly centered with his admiration for toji, plus I think people forget that Naoya is an antagonist), how he acknowledges that he has not reached that level of strength. Of course, I'm angsty about his misogynistic ideals. I get that he's from a very traditionalist clan so... yeah. I mean, no child is born evil. Children learn from those around them (I've seen many people say he's trash since he was a kid when he said that "i wonder what miserable face he has", but like he's a kid, he doesn't know what he's saying AHSJFJWJQ8QR he was either taught that or he just learned it from others. Funnily enough, he does say toji has a pretty face now LMAO). Maybe it stems from something else, maybe it didn't.

I'm not saying him trying to kill Megumi is forgotten (Though, the Jujutsu Society is a place where teens get executed for the simple fact that they are too strong, so im not surprised. Just like Noritoshi said, age does not matter in Jujutsu Society). I see now why he was really pissed about Megumi being the head, since Naoya has been promised the position since he was young, only to loose of a 15 year old who is the son of the man he admires :')) However, still, none of it excuses the shit he did. He still has a shitty personality, but it's nice to know a bit of a background.

Anyway, that's all for now. My English is bad so that might be all over the place •`,`• That's just my take on it so I could be wrong or maybe seeing him wrong since we still don't know much abt him. I'm always scared to talk about naoya because the last time i did (on twt) i got a backlash of hate (ppl really do get hate just from admiring someone's characterization). Your blog is like a safe haven for naoya stans, so i thank you for that hehe.

Have a nice day suki!! kisses~

(also this is a PSPSPSPS to a naoya childhood friends au fic pls 👁👁)

bestie omg I am so sorry, I found this deep in my inbox and I am *shakes* and yes yes let’s talk about naoya, I would be more than glad to and I’m sorry I didn’t see this any sooner!! more rants and simping under the cut

I'm kinda sad at how people just calls Naoya a Toji fanboy (though true LMAO) and not realizing how Toji really influenced his persona. Like the admiration Naoya held for Toji is so deeply engraved in him that he, who was called a genius sorcerer as a child, looks up to a man who was called a failure. Toji is probably the only man in the clan that he respected, that's why toji's level of strength became his "picture" to follow. And I think a lot of who Naoya has become is because the Zen'ins literally groomed the decency out of him. Still, though groomed to be everything he is, he himself chose not to change anything about it.

omg for this…I’m actually like…like I love the detail that naoya admires toji? as we can see from the panel of little naoya, it’s like people have already planted in his head that no cursed energy = loser, yet he ended up admiring him and I am,,,my heart is just soft! exactly! just think of naoya born as a genius sorcerer yet his admiration for toji, who is painted as the clan’s failure, helped shape him into who he is! idk but I just really love the fact that naoya, who is like born with the pressure and role of being clan leader, somewhat strays from tradition and ends up finding strength into toji and even strives to follow him or “stand by him” someday. for me, it just shows that perhaps naoya isn’t really half as bad as he should be in an honest sense, meaning that he’s evil or morally corrupt because he was born that way or because he chose to be that way. I do agree that perhaps he is the way he is now because he’s groomed to be like that, but of course, I’m not going to disregard the fact that somewhere along the way, Naoya could’ve matured to choose himself to not embody the misogynistic tradition of the zen’in clan.

This could just be me, but my interpretation of it is that Naoya seems more like the perfect product or embodiment of how the clan shaped him to be, blinded him with false morals and the patriarchy presiding into them. Rather than Naoya being just “a misogynistic arrogant man” in my perspective and my opinion, I see him more into the bigger picture of his toxic upbringing to begin with. Like, no child is born evil unless there’s like a predetermined curse deciding their fate for them, so its partly the Zen’in clan’s fault he’s that way. But Gege showing that Naoya admiring someone the Zen’in clan disregarded, it shows that he is capable of being himself without the clause of his clan enforcing things to him once again, like the whole “he’s gonna be the future clan leader” thing, though that is still heavily embedded within him.

(wait but also?? little naoya looks cute like he would guide old ladies on the ped xing so what the fuck happened after that)

OMGGGG PLEASE THAT’S SO CUTE, HE LOOKED SO INNOCENT AND ADORABLE BUT EVEN AS A CHILD HE WAS ALREADY CALLING PEOPLE A LOSER LIKE EYE

I guess one major reason why he does not respect anyone else in the clan (besides his superiority complex) is because of the Zen'in's concept of what is marked as strong. Like, the way they see and treated him as if he's the best sorcerer in the making, yet failing to see Toji's powers and rejecting him fully. It's something similar to Mai when she said "Maki has talent that I don't. And the clan rejected that; that talent that I lacked",except Naoya is raised to be a confident (arrogant?) child, thus he takes it as a challenge instead and works to achieve it.

Anon, is it just me or like…was his superiority complex also enforced on him by the Zen’in clan as well? Again this could just be me going all psychologist mode on Naoya but the nature of superiority complex is quite interesting, you know! As a psych student, I perfectly understand that superiority complex either stems from several things like a) wanting to live up to one’s or others expectations, b) masking it with a deep stem of insecurity, or c) it’s a coping mechanism. See, I could go on and on about but then I’d have to link all my past studies lmao so let’s just put it on layman’s terms that my interpretation of Naoya’s superiority complex is once again, influenced by the clan. Imagine being a kid born into a clan where people remind you again and again that you’re the future leader, that you would be the one to guide them or protect them or discuss the clan’s future and status once you grow, and you’re quite groomed for it.

For such pressure to be put on a child’s shoulders, it kind of strips off his youth and instead of him enjoying his youth, I can imagine that it took a toll on little Naoya, and the reason he grew his superiority complex is his way to cope and reach the standards and expectations that is given to him. Of course, he’s a kid, he might start to wonder, “Can I even do all of that?” but seeing as the Zen’in clan highly measures strength and growth based on abilities, cursed energy, and overall just to conform into the image they’ve held for years, it’s quite obvious that Naoya can’t exactly voice out his worries over this, so instead, he masks it with a superiority complex that absolutely boosts him to a higher level, thus giving him the confidence he needed to carry out his tasks and the reassurance that, “Yes, I am worthy and I will be the clan leader.” As for your theory that he takes it as a challenge, I can see where you’re coming from! I think Naoya is the type of person who definitely likes to challenge himself, but one of the reasons I love his character so much is because he’s not completely a brainless “head on straight to war” type of person too.

He knows his limits and knows which side he should be in, as showed when Yuuta came and mans surrendered easily. Idk why but to me, Naoya, who is such an arrogant confident man who has high trust in abilities, but at the same time can admit when someone is stronger than him (like him admiring Toji and Gojo) just makes him more human and a little more beautifully flawed. Like, he’s not perfect and he’s most definitely an irritating character, but the way he was written is just *chef’s kiss*

So, when Maki reached the level of Toji, I think his reaction wasn't simply stemmed on his "fanboy" antics, but his desperation of being part of that level of strength. I think he's more irritated in the fact that Maki, someone who he does not see anywhere near as strong as he is (though he does say Maki is strong in chapter 138), reached a level of strength that he hasn't; that he is trying hard to achieve. It's also the same with having your favorite superhero getting defeated. And Naoya's in denial that there is someone else who could be the same as Toji.

Yes, ah I really do love this theory that he’s more irritated because in his mind, he’s like, “I’m a genius sorcerer! I was meant to be clan leader! This is my rightful spot to be a strong one, so how come Maki, who is a woman, with no zero cursed energy has reached the level of the person I looked up most to?” again, Naoya didn’t say that and those are just my opinions and brainrot so don’t come at me for it uwu, but yeah I do think that he’s very aggravated that he didn’t react that level first. Because I guess you could say, he’s probably alluding that Maki reaching Toji’s strength = them being equals, and ofc Naoya wanted to be the one standing beside them. It probably hit his superiority complex that he wasn’t the one in Maki’s spot especially when he tried so hard to achieve it, and considering the gifts he was given (same cursed technique as his dad and him having cursed energy) it threw him off.

Yeah, Naoya is most likely in denial and becomes aggressive over it, although I don’t really mean physically aggressive because Naoya is actually quite calm and ‘composed.’ If ever he did go on a rampage, he does it in such a suave, calculated manner with this silent confidence that he will win. It kind of makes you root for him because he even fools the audience (by audience I mean ME) that he’s going to OWN that fight but whoop, he got his ass kicked. Plus ten points for confidence and a bonus thousand points for being sexy though!!! Yeah, omg he’s probably in disbelief that a woman of all people could be like the person he admired most.

I like how he's an antagonist that was not build under the foundation of a sob backstory (though it was a v small sneak peak of his background and was mainly centered with his admiration for toji, plus I think people forget that Naoya is an antagonist), how he acknowledges that he has not reached that level of strength. Of course, I'm angsty about his misogynistic ideals. I get that he's from a very traditionalist clan so... yeah. I mean, no child is born evil. Children learn from those around them (I've seen many people say he's trash since he was a kid when he said that "i wonder what miserable face he has", but like he's a kid, he doesn't know what he's saying AHSJFJWJQ8QR he was either taught that or he just learned it from others. Funnily enough, he does say toji has a pretty face now LMAO). Maybe it stems from something else, maybe it didn't.

OMG YESSSS ANON YES YES YES *slams down simping button angrily* That’s what I like about him too! Even though Naoya is cocky and wayyyy too arrogant for his own good, I also like that he acknowledges he’s not quite in a level he wants to be in yet. And hah, his backstory, it wasn’t totally sob because it’s obvious he was much too doted on, but I still hate how they made him like that. True, if he’s still carrying the same misogynistic ideals as he is now in an age where he has the mental capacity to improve and be different, then the belief has become more of a choice than something engraved into him, which I am really disappointed and not really into because of course, he’d be much better if he wasn’t like that in the first place. LOLOLOLOL yes yes he’s a kid, it sure as hell doesn’t excuse the way he is now but like just think !!

if a kid was spouting out such mean words and CLEARLY no one is correcting him, who really is the problem here? A child has a harder time deciphering what is right and wrong by himself without proper guidance. And he didn’t have proper guidance, they really just let him be like that and it’s because the clan!! sucks !! ass !! YEAH he probably called toji with a miserable face because he hasn’t seen him before but after seeing the iconic dilf, Naoya gone be like, “anyways, I lied, moving on—”

I'm not saying him trying to kill Megumi is forgotten (Though, the Jujutsu Society isa place where teens get executed for the simple fact that they are too strong, so im not surprised. Just like Noritoshi said, age does not matter in Jujutsu Society). I see now why he was really pissed about Megumi being the head, since Naoya has been promised the position since he was young, only to loose of a 15 year old who is the son of the man he admires :')) However, still, none of it excuses the shit he did. He still has a shitty personality, but it's nice to know a bit of a background.

yeah no of course, no worries! even as a hardcore naoya stan, I can admit this dude is TERRIBLE for so many reasons! yeah I mean that could be pretty irritating because he was born for it, raised to be clan leader, groomed and expected he’d have that role, but nah someone else took his throne. yeah I’m with you on that, naoya has a shitty personality and I would totally smack him if he was real because he makes my eyes roll to the back of my head, but knowing his background and theorizing (read: me going all psychologist mode because he’s the only character I ever cared about to apply my studies into) his character is quite fun. I wish we had more scenes with Naoya though, I really hoped he’d play a bigger role but he just…died, I guess, though I’m starting to believe that maybe he really isn’t dead! Gege did him dirty omg I’ll cry again if it’s really GENUINELY confirmed my baby is gone.

Anyway, that's all for now. My English is bad so that might be all over the place •`,`• That's just my take on it so I could be wrong or maybe seeing him wrong since we still don't know much abt him. I'm always scared to talk about naoya because the last time i did (on twt) i got a backlash of hate (ppl really do get hate just from admiring someone's characterization). Your blog is like a safe haven for naoya stans, so i thank you for that hehe.

ah no worries about your English, I didn’t really notice anything wrong with it tbh! And I understand, these are all just our opinions/theories/perspectives, we could be wrong or not, we don’t really know because we’re not Gege (⋟﹏⋞) NOOOO PEOPLE HATED YOU ON THAT? ISTG I’VE NEVER SEEN A FANDOM CANCEL SOMEONE AS MUCH AS JJK FANDOM CANCELS NAOYA AND NAOYA STANS LIKE – he’s just a fictional character omg, cancelling naoya is understandable because I would too but attacking his fans? or generally anyone who talks about him in a neutral or not in a way that goes, “yeah I would punch this mfer” is just?? doesn’t make sense to me bestie, people really choose to do that with their time yikes.

AND AWWW THANK YOU YES I PROTECT ALL MY FELLOW NAOYA STANS HERE, I respect who people simp for because if it’s what you enjoy and as long as you’re not hurting anybody, then it really doesn’t matter and it’s not a big deal! and you’re always welcome here uwu. have an even nicer day bestie and I’m sorry I didn’t see this sooner AAAA I really loved talking about this tho HEHEHEH I’m not actually too much of a JJK theorist since I’m not smart enough to pay attention or infer from all the details but NAOYA HMMMMM also childhood friends fic? hmu let’s hear it!! also ahh hmm idk but i get really happy whenever people talk to me freely about naoya bcos even tho i have been a naoya simp for like three months, it was not until recently that people came to me about him and i have just been simping alone (bcos people MADDDD) spsppsps okay rant over thank you anon i love you kith kith <3

[tammyhybrid21]

Do you think that in the Tadeo Jones universe, some people (average or rich people) think living mummies aren't persons but some creatures they can capture and claim as their own 'cuz they have no rights? (as mentioned by Tad in Movie 2) Kind of like the Apex's view of denizens in IT. I think this could be adressed in Tad 3. But I'll be sad because Mummy is going to find the hard way that for powerful people, his feelings and opinions doesn't matter (Twice, if we count the Spanish conquista)

Ohhhh man!

I have been-- stewing over how best to answer this since I saw it yesterday, because part of me has IDEAS-- the other part has a rant that has kind of been building for a while in general when you just examine the movies and the setting and even the actual community represented in reality(that being Archaeologists not-- well)

And LOOK-- I have TEA!

Frustrated, frustrated tea regarding other aspects of how this all could play out that basically boils down to the one major issue that a lot of those groups has is the issue of "But WE all know!" and the we've boxed this in already.

Which-- Debatably, Tad isn't the only one with some issues... But Sara has-- at least insofar as her reactions to Mummy in movie 2, come to terms past her more nebulous in concept repeated line.

"Mummies can't be alive, it's a contradiction in terms" 

Which-- actually might be an issue that's just on the question of the life/death binary more than it is actually a question of whether someone is human/a person or not. And we ALL know she's definitely got Major Respect over Tad--

Like, I will write a proper analysis over their "Mummy gives advice/pep talk" scenes later-- but--

Sara doesn't just take it and run how Tadeo does-- and she doesn't get hyped about it either. It's soft and subtle and just ARGH--

--

Which, okay beside the point, but I have-- so much on this idea of how people view Mummy-- Because let's for a moment consider what Tad actually says-- in answer to Mummy's "What is with you?" and I want to also talk on what people tend to associate with and call monsters... and how... that might also factor into this whole mess.

"Listen you're a mummy, you scare people. In my world you're a zombie!"

Which-- okay, on the surface this is just an on the nose point about how well, Mummy is undead. Ahahah, the living dead and I suppose living mummies are their own form of zombie-- although really it's more like they're cousins as zombies are usually more... in process of decay while mummies are preserved/petrified... Buuuut in any case... not the point here really.

But rather...

Let's talk about how "Monster Movies" come in here. And what zombies tend to be synonymous with nowadays. You know-- for the most part. Mindless, brainless, sometimes killers though not always-- But ultimately-- Does... anyone actually watch zombie shows for in-depth exploration of zombies ever anymore? Aside a few exceptions, and same in games-- Zombies are relegated to just brainless/mindless monsters.

Which--

On the other side of that-- monsters.

Tad never quite uses that word but--

"First, you're not human"

Mummies-- are monsters. In stories and fiction. Used to scare, used to awe, used to add scenery dressing, spooky, freaky, creepy-- and when they're not-- well it's rare. But if they're not the villains, they're not "human". Which think about that for a moment, in all the monster stories we have but a few where the monsters aren't outright put in that position.

But a monster is usually in a story put into one role and box. And if they're not outright there just to be spooky, or the whole new misunderstood monster trope-- which well, that's a whole other thing. But we all know the usual "monster shtick".

Violent, scary, simple, dumb, driven by base impulses, nonhuman, Very, very often as lesser, other, and something to be feared/hunted/destroyed.

And while modern day does move away from that--

ISSUES still prevail.

And I have-- just got to aside here, but like, thinking on this but-- the Phone Mummy sign outside of Tad's window as a child has some... other weird things. Because as a wild aside, my dumb brain has decided to A - B link this with a series I watched on television from 2005-2007

Because of THIS stupid Mummy Scam Artist character. And it's dumb, has nothing to do with the issue of mummies(and other potential beings and creatures of myth and legend) having less rights. But this whole phone billboard-- with the Mummy, it's legit right up this character's kind of scam alley and I may or may not one day just rewatch his two villain episodes to get his personality clear in my head JUST to do a dumb crossover.(And for nostalgia, but that's not news)

BUT--

Advertising does tell us some things already. In how people possibly think and could respond/react.

Yet still-- there is something more I think that we're missing in this conversation on how people will potentially treat the discovery of a living mummy. Or really any supernatural being. If not with fear(which look-- fear the unknown, fear different, fear of monsters), arguably those who're intrigued, interested could be far, far worse.

Also-- I just have, much tea on other responses for even those who might briefly "respect" him. Because look-- Mummy would be a priceless artefact in a way, treasure and discovery all on his own-- BUT also a new potential source of information of a culture that for the most part has been lost and erased by history.

People could and would ask questions.

Whiiich is where I have doubts about how they will accept the answers to those questions. Because here's the thing, for all the Archaeology community loves to act as if they let discoveries speak for themselves, and even I suppose historians-- There are just-- so many times I watch and listen to documentaries and get SO FRUSTRATED-- because they're stubborn IDIOTS, who actually refuse to take in the evidence in front of them of any truths outside of what they're SO SURE has to be the TRUTH!

For those who speak of learning all about history and it's secrets, they're so damn high and mighty to reject anything that doesn't immediately fit with already established "facts". It must be an anomaly, aliens, can't be what we're actually seeing right--

And well even people today interacting-- Like-- I've seen people try to correct someone on the pronunciation of their own name before.

So I am almost certain there would be at least one idiot who'd be all high and mighty and just-- Mummy has LIVED it. It's his culture he grew up in and some idiot speaking over him saying his lying, which I just-- I am certain would happen(but probably not in canon because who would DARE?!)-- Just "EXCUSE ME?!"

Which is it's own kind of disrespect and hell, crash Tad's pillars again. Yes please!

Which... on that account--

I kiiiind of want to talk about how Tad needs a smack on this... and that wake up to the truths of the high and mighty and bloody prideful issues of the community. BUT more than that-- I actually want to think about that point you made about how Mummy's supposed transformation in movie 3 comes across and the further themes of this question of humanity and rights is in regards to this whole issue.

Because yeah, there's the issue, front and CENTER.

The question/implication of this resembling Ammut, and implied loss of humanity. Along with the fact that Tad's the likely TRUE CENTER of the curse-- since he's the idiot who opened the sarcophagus in the first place...

WHICH CAN I JUST SAY--

There's a very good possibility in regards to that issue-- potentially having to do with some of Tad's more... subtle issues. Or even the ones that are close to the surface and yet not. I've screamed already on Tadeo's Internalized Ableism... along with some small nods to Mummy's own less severe cast with that but-- This is directly playing into that image of monsters and nonhumanity--

And I could probably add an additional few pages of speculation onto this but--

I actually am... also worried for the pets. If only because uhhh, have you seen the original two Tadeo Jones shorts from before it become movies? https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2XxhNMbpE2A & https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uoJBzI2AUOw

I mean not assuming anything, but I can definitely believe they wouldn't be above having that threat present at the least.(I mean just that second one... with what I guess is concept-Jeff) Even if Mummy is most definitely going to be the one at the MOST RISK. But with that-- comes the question of humanity.

And while yeah-- I do imagine, all too easily there will be many people more focused on the discovery-- I think there's an interesting mess that Tadeo is going to be FORCED to confront with this-- in how he has that displaced view.

Because here's the weird thing.

I've kind of mentioned it before but not really expanded or explained very clearly-- but for all of Tad's issues... he cares about Mummy probably more than he even really realizes. It's in small to big things as well. Again-- for all his trash behaviour in movie 2, I do think a lot of it is very, very misplaced attempts at some form of protection...

Which I also really want to at some point make a post that's just...

"Tad's I'm Helping moments and how they made things worse for everyone"

But that's for later... For now...

I kind of want to grab a few things.

"You're already dead, RUN!"

I also actually counted how quickly he ran back to Mummy for this moment, and it's LITERALLY two seconds, from when Mummy collapses to Tadeo's check on him. Also I'd like to mention with this-- he's supposedly tunnel visioning on Sara(and he ruins it within the next scene pretty quickly)

...

And for all they're kind of dumb decisions.

DEBATABLY-- when he's trying to hide Mummy.

"Hide"

Ugh-- BUT Tadeo has a very... complicated issue here really. Because yes-- Tad very much has that nonhuman issue, but he CARES. And then-- there's how the whole Ammut thing feels set and the symbolic meaning there(ALSO INTERESTING SARA SEEMINGLY ISN'T CAUGHT BY THAT). But here's the thing--

With Ammut kiiind of come those scales and the feather.

It's not like that mythology isn't unknown-- but more to the point-- it feels kind of like force Tad to confront his mixed up view. On Mummy's humanity or lack of-- But really as the audience Mummy feels the most human at this point in time-- whiiich we can get into a debate on what even is human nature later-- but--

I am kind of hoping that we get a callout of a number of things regarding Tad's behaviour.

With some primary focus on this dynamic between him and Mummy and really seeing how he responds to that idea that Mummy is nonhuman to really be thrown into full view and scope. And listen...

You cannot cheat the scales.

...

As an aside generally, if he is turning into a form or version of Ammut even if initially the community is a danger because he's a living mummy that creates a whole other issue of how he'd be viewed as a danger due to the role that's possibly growing more and more of an instinct.

But yeah... I will probably now make a more formulated rant on this later, or like, minor expansions on the topic but-- yeah.

I have been CHEWING on these thoughts, ideas and concepts for a while.

With additional tea. Because when people think they know something too often they refuse to see differently.

(Also at some point I am going to make a personal rant on duality verses binary due to insistent terminology issues I have but ugh)

[snakeysleepy]

Hypno Virus Challange Day 8

So these next seven days will be a little different. Instead of only randomized program runs, I have the option of a preset run and a manually tailored run each day! I did so with induction.exe for today.

First, my normal randomized run.

Ticking clocks are a pretty famous hypnotic induction, and that *always* makes them extra hot. Pocketwatches, metronomes, bells. All classic, all arousing. After a few minutes of my brain getting chipped away by that simple sound, I was brought back up and asked a question:

Did I think that sound was hypnotic? Of course, no question.

Being the generous A.I. the Virus is, I got an extra minute of those blissful ticks! That’s why you always answer truthfully to the Virus to let it know how conditioned you are. You get fun rewards!

Speaking of fun rewards...

I got more “bite” trigger conditioning. Holy hell this has got to be one of my favorite things to get triggered with. I found myself today going about my business, and then just randomly getting an urge to touch my “bite mark”. You would not believe how sensitive the right side of my neck is. I even tested to see if there was a difference between the bite side and the unbitten side. Of course there was. Even the collar of my coat brushing against the bite was enough to distract me.

Er, sorry. I just REALLY like that.

Moving on to the preset run, I chose something that might seem familiar to some of you. If you haven’t seen my Virus reaction video here:

Watch it to get a better idea of how this next bit felt~

I chose the “spiral delight” run, which had everything that you see in the video. (Except the spiral, I didn’t get that in the recording. Wouldn’t want to spoil it anyways~)

I had to choose that. This run was a huge step for me, showing all of you how deeply conditioned I am. I was so nervous, and yet seeing the green text quickly washed my fears away and left nothing but blank euphoria. Running this was like reliving that, reminding me why I do these posts, that video. To help others see the bliss they could be feeling.

Please, take this to heart. I wish nothing more than to see you join me in this submissive surrender to the Hypno Virus.

Mmmhhhh. I got a little carried away there. A week of continuous conditioning will do that to a host. I’m gonna be less subtle about converting you all. You don’t mind do you?

Anyway...

The last run I got to choose every command I’d get. So I chose:

The lullaby (this was new to me)

Word play

And of course, the Bite.

One of the many reasons the configurations are SO good is that you can make sure you get the reinforcement or the experiences you want every time. Random runs are fun, but picking your own poison so to speak has its own appeal.

So yeah, of course I had to choose the bite.

Here’s where it gets really interesting.

The lullaby was something I hadn’t experienced yet. So I had no way of knowing how it tied in with the bite trigger. If you’ve listened to any of @thegreato95 ‘s files before, you might have listened to the vampire fantasy.

The lullaby the Virus uses to test your suggestibility? It’s the same as the background music box in the vampire file. I practically gasped when I heard it. Might have been touching my bite the whole time. That’s completely normal I promise.

Word play. Being in the aroused and brainless haze I was at this point meant that this would completely destroy what was left of my mind. It’s simple in concept. Repeat the phrase “open, blank, hypnotized” punctuated by a bell for each. Eyes closing and opening with each round of the phrase. I was so hypno drunk in the middle that I could barely speak the mantra.

Not sure when the bite conditioning started, but I remember jumping when I received that trigger. It was like an electric shock, not waking me but rather making me more aware of every spark of pleasure I was feeling.

Now my neck is practically untouchable at the moment, unless I want to become a mindless mess again.

I gotta finish this. Then that’ll be what I do for the rest of my night.

Please use this knowledge of my bite responsibly. Wouldn’t want teasing to make the conditioning sink in more. Another and even easier weakness for the Virus to exploit...

[kenbunshokus]

#ZOSAN

zoro/sanji, nami/vivi | 3.5k words | 1 of 7 chapters

“Who are they even… 'shipping' me with? They know Usopp is with Kaya, and didn’t you just make your whole thing with Vivi public a few weeks ago—“ Zoro trails off as realization hits him, all at once, and he feels his stomach drop in the same way it would whenever he faces a particularly strong opponent in a kendo match.

“No,” he breathes.

“Obviously,” Nami says, shoves her phone into his face and points at a comment that says, OMG PLZ blonde and green are sitting side by side again. OTP! as Zoro sees his life flash before his eyes. “They’re shipping you with Sanji.”

(Or, the one where the Strawhats are Youtube personalities and people, naturally, start shipping Zoro and Sanji.)

(ao3)

catburglar 572 posts | 2.1M followers | 47 following Nami Bellemere stealing your hearts, one picture at a time http://youtube.com/user/thestrawhatshub

❤ 8,277 Likes catburglar lunch with the fam @sogeking @pirateking @strawhats #food #nofilter #cafe

View all 5,405 comments

ivolatan OMG THOSE TWO GUYS ARE IN THE PICTURE AGAIN

bananapigeon ok seriously, who are those two untagged guys in these pics. esp the blond one with the eyebrow. i keep seeing them in the vlogs too.

mikphail @catburglar Can you tell us the name of the green-haired guy sitting on the right? Beside the blonde? Asking for a friend.

+

“People are asking for you,” is the first thing Nami says as Zoro walks into the apartment she shares with Usopp and heads straight towards the fridge.

“Which people?” Zoro asks, suspicious. The comment seems innocent out of context, but Zoro narrows his eyes at her anyways because it’s Nami. “Actual people? Or,” he pauses, sifting through his mental vocabulary before giving up and settling with, “your people.”

He can hear her laugh from the living room. “Zoro, people from the internet are still real people.”

“They aren’t just people,” Usopp pokes his head out of his room to join in the conversation, “they are the subscribers, nay, followers— nay — fans of the Great Usopp—“

“They’re strangers,” Zoro points out, matter-of-factly. He doesn’t really get this whole…internet thing Usopp and Nami seem to have made a decent amount of money from no matter how many Technology 101 Lectures from Franky he’s sat through. They work for Luffy’s YouTube Channel—the Strawhats Hub—and post a bunch of videos online about how they have burger for lunch or some other mundane shit, and somehow people pay for that. Well, the sponsors pay for that, technically, but they get money all the same. Zoro doesn’t really get it.

He does understand one thing for sure, though. “I don’t give out my details to strangers.”

“Zoro, you’re like, a decade too old for Stranger Danger,” Nami says, disapproving, “and you know you can’t avoid being famous if you want to be the strongest swordsman in the world.”

Zoro sighs at the familiar argument between them, and makes sure he groans loud enough for her to hear. He’s usually up for any kind of sparring, verbal or otherwise, but not today—not after four back-to-back, two-hour lectures at the university and kendo club training afterwards with no breaks in between. He snatches the nearest canned beer with a little too much force, and it hits the fridge door with a loud bang.

Nami seems to catch on the sour mood and switches the subject. “You know, I think they’re shipping you.”

Zoro blinks. He waits for a second, two, three...yeah, the words still don't make sense. He gives her a confused stare. “What does that even mean?”

“it means they want you to be together with someone,” Usopp, their designated Technology-to-Zoro translator, explains. “Like, together together.”

Zoro scoffs. “What is this, high school?” He waves a dismissive hand at Nami, deciding to focus more on the free beer in his hand instead, eyeing it appreciatively. Nami’s an unpredictable storm with a flexible moral compass reminiscent of a witch, but she provides an endless supply of booze and is the only person who can hold her own against him, so Zoro figures it all balances out in the end.

The cold liquid hits the back of his throat with a familiar biting sensation, and it calms him down enough to finally process Usopp’s words. “Who are they even… shipping me with?” The foreign word stumbles clumsily out of his mouth, and he pauses, trying to wrap his mind around the concept. “They know Usopp is with Kaya, and didn’t you just make your whole thing with Vivi public a few weeks ago—“

Zoro trails off as realization hits him, all at once, and he feels his stomach drop in the same way it would whenever he faces a particularly strong opponent in a kendo match.

“No,” he breathes.

“Obviously,” Nami says, shoves her phone into his face and points at a YouTube comment that says, OMG PLZ blonde and green are sitting side by side again. OTP! as Zoro sees his life flash before his eyes. “They’re shipping you with Sanji.”

+

nami @catburglar

We’re kind of bored, so @sogeking and I are answering everyone’s questions in the next hour! Don’t forget to use the hashtag #AskUsoNa <3

 nami @catburglar

so a million dollar AND a free trip around the world? I’d take it! 

\m/ @queenmelissa

Would you get a million dollar but every time you sneeze you’re being teleported to a random place in the world #Askusona

 nami @catburglar

I’ve known Usopp since high school. I’ve known Luffy the longest, though. We’ve been friends since we were cute little ten-year-olds.

Jenna Rowen @jrowen

#AskUsoNa How did you get to know each other? Love your vids!

 nami @catburglar

Zoro and Sanji are roommates, not dating. Or are they? ;)

bad luck kate @gingerchic

are the two guys in some of your vids dating (U KNOW WHICH TWO) #askusona @sogeking @catburglar

 bad luck kate @gingerchic replying to @catburglar

HOLY SHIT DID U JUST

 bad luck kate @gingerchic replying to @gingerchic @catburglar

WE JUST GOT A FUCKING NAMES REVEAL. @ STRAWHAT RPF FANDOM THIS IS NOT A DRILL

+

The smell of well-cooked seafood, mixed with a tinge of booze, touches every nook and cranny of his apartment as people eat, drink, or laugh with each other (or, in Luffy’s case, all three of them at once). Zoro sprawls comfortably across his favorite sofa in the middle of the cacophony, and he closes his eyes, soaking in the familiar atmosphere, a half-empty can of beer dangling by his right hand.

Today isn’t their usual weekly Friday Night Hang Out; today, Ace is on leave from the military for the first time in ages. Luffy promised his big brother a huge, awesome feast, and their ragtag group of broke college students deliver the way they know how—His and Sanji’s apartment, Brook’s music, Sanji’s food.

Zoro doesn’t care much about parties, but he does like Ace and his stories about Whitebeard's platoon. Free booze is also a plus.

“Tired already?” A voice asks over his head, and Zoro has spent enough time with Luffy’s family ever since he was ten to know it’s Ace without having to look up.

“As if,” he says, skipping the greeting. “Just making sure I don’t appear in Usopp’s videos.” He thinks of the photo Nami showed him a few days ago, the one on the… instant… gram… thing… and adds, “or photos.”

“Oh, I’ve heard about that!” Ace plops onto the other sofa across the table, entering Zoro’s field of vision. “I heard somebody’s famous now.”

“Tch,” Zoro grunts, but refuses to elaborate. He doesn’t like where the conversation is going.

“And I heard,” Ace continues anyways, his grin all-too-innocent and therefore completely terrifying, “someone’s famous with someone else.”

Zoro jolts upright from his position, for once ignoring the beer he spilled on the carpet—Sanji will kill him for that later, but whatever—and turns to search for Usopp among the crowd. He glares at Usopp in a way that says, I’m going to deliver you a drawn-out, painful death, and Usopp pointedly looks anywhere but back at him.

Ace chuckles, impervious to Zoro’s death glares. “Actually, Luffy was the one who told me.”

“The shipping thing sounds so cool,” Luffy, that traitor, chimes in around a mouthful of meatballs. “I wonder who they’d ship me with.”

“Meat, probably,” Sanji says before Zoro could, and bodily pushes Luffy aside with his leg to place a plateful of fried prawns on the table. Both brothers’ eyes widen comically at the sight and the two of them dive into the plate as Sanji narrows his eyes at Zoro, “that is, if people can even be trusted these days. I still can’t believe they, what’s the word— ship me with marimo head over here when Nami is also in the picture.”

That—well.

Stings a little.

Zoro mentally maneuvers around the flare of jealousy and opts for anger, because it’s easier. Familiar. “Not like I’m enjoying the idea of being a boyfriend of someone with those eyebrows,” he fires back.

Sanji’s left eye twitches at that. “Didn’t know you have enough intelligence to even form an idea, seaweed brain.”

“Pervert cook.”

“Brainless moss.”

“Please keep the lover’s spat within the privacy of your bedroom,” Nami teases as she somehow manages to gracefully pluck a prawn out of the mess Ace and Luffy are making on the table.

“Right, Mellorine!” Sanji sing-songs in record speed.

Zoro sighs and puts his face in his hand. “Do you even listen to yourself, idiot,” he says, and narrowly dodges a kick to the head.

“Says the person who got lost so often the train station officers from the neighboring city start recognizing him!” Sanji yells back, and avoids the pillow thrown at him with practiced ease clearly born through repeated fights.

“How are you two even friends,” Ace observes in between chews, amused.

Zoro and Sanji instantly whip their heads towards Ace in unison, and say, in eerie synchronicity, “we’re not friends.”

Nami shakes her head, but it’s fond. “That’s how.”

+

❤ 2,103 Likes catburglar exclusive photo of Zoro enjoying Sanji’s food #nofilter #candid

View all 7,151 comments

martiknee I assume Sanji is a chef, then?

thefantasyren I still can’t believe we’ve been blessed with their names. Strawhat Fandom, rejoice!

ostenmah @martiknee ur an idiot, he could just be someone whos really good at cooking

martiknee Wow, thanks for the unprompted hostility, I was just asking. Either way, do you fucking have eyes, look at those prawns. Look me in the eyes and tell me he cooks THOSE and doesn’t cook for a living. @ostenmah

  brie @strawhatnami

so I heard Zoro is in his college’s kendo club

 a gay @bisexualusopp replying to @strahwatnami

he’s the CAPTAIN

 brie @strawhatnami replying to @bisexualusopp

source pls?

 Kal @THEKALZONE replying to @strawhatnami @bisexualusopp

can confirm, my brother goes to the same college as him, wasn’t exactly difficult to find a dude w green hair named zoro

 a gay @bisexualusopp replying to @THEKALZONE @strawhatnami

apparently he used to appear on a bunch of tv shows about modern swordsmen or sth with his sister back then?

 brie @strawhatnami replying to @bisexualusopp @THEKALZONE

HOLY SHIT I REMEMBER WATCHING IT WHEN I WAS LIKE. FIVE. kuina was my fave. I wonder if she goes to the same college too?

+

The thing is—the crux of the problem of this whole mess of a situation is that—Zoro has code. Some sort of personal, unsaid rules he has dedicated his life to following. And now this whole fiasco is slowly breaking these codes—two, particularly:

Zoro, as a general rule, dislikes attention. He used to be some sort of a child star way back when, before Usopp and Nami and even Luffy, before—the thing with Kuina. It was hardly bearable when Kuina was with him, holding his hand whenever it started to tremble during tapings, and now with her gone he’s not touching that industry with a ten-feet pole. That means no stupid interviews with awkward pauses and one-word answers, no troublesome photo shoots that leave him with cramps at places he didn’t know could get cramps, and most importantly, no getting recognized on the street by random strangers. He looks like shit on photos. He doesn’t even have an autograph.

Zoro has the largest, most pathetic crush on Sanji, and nobody can find out.

The second rule is more important than the first, of course. So far the breaking of the first code only results in minor inconveniences, but the fact that there’s a whole group of people dedicated to telling the world that Zoro wants to get into Sanji’s pants is not something he can live with. Not something Sanji can live with, that’s for sure. Sanji has been brushing them off as a joke, thankfully, but Zoro figures there’s only so much the Straightest Man on Earth could take before he would start avoiding Zoro in disgust and pretty much stomping on Zoro’s heart in the process.

Which is why, as soon as he spots Usopp coming out of the college’s workshop, Zoro stops him in his track and growls, “this is all your fault.”

Usopp covers his head out of instinct and stammers, “whatever it is, I didn’t do it and I’m sorry.”

Zoro crosses his arms in front of his chest and huffs. “Stop it—I’d never hit you just because I feel like it.”

“This bump on the right side of my head disagrees,” Usopp says as he peeks through his fingers, “I think it’s developing into a tumor .”

“You can’t get a tumor from getting knocked in the head,” Zoro says.

“I don’t think you’re qualified to make that judgment,” Usopp insists, but visibly relaxes anyways when he doesn’t see Zoro’s hands anywhere near his head. “What is it?”

“It’s just,” Zoro says, almost ominously. “People.”

“You’re not a fan of them. Yeah, I got that, like, five years ago when I first met you.”

“Shut up, I’m not done. People, they—“ Zoro drops his voice as low as possible to adequately convey the severity of his predicament, “—they started recognizing me. From your pictures.”

Usopp visibly perks up at that. “I know , right? People say, Usopp, being famous on the internet is nothing, no one’s going to know who you are in real life, but hater’s gonna hate, you know? One time a princess from a European country asked for my autograph—“

“It’s not a good thing,” Zoro cuts in, ignoring Usopp’s make-believe story. “Three different people asked for my photograph on the way here. A girl tried taking a picture while I was eating and I accidentally spat in her face.”

Usopp at least has the audacity to grimace at that. “I guess—I guess I can see where you’re coming from, but come on, Zoro, live a little!” He emphasizes with a  friendly pat on Zoro’s shoulder. “There are, literally, thousands of people lining up to be in your shoes.”

Zoro can’t help bristling at the touch. “I didn’t sign up for this. Not like you and Nami did, with Luffy and the whole YouTube thing,” he says and adds, more urgently, “especially not for the whole thing with the Cook.”

Usopp should know. Usopp does know, because Zoro told him once under the influence of one too many drinks. They never really talked about it afterwards because Zoro has the emotional constipation of a sixteen-year-old emo teen who still listens to My Chemical Romance, and Usopp has enough self-preservation instinct not to bring it up, but there’s always this silent agreement that Usopp knows.

Usopp raises his hands in the universal sign of defeat. “Look, I admit things did go out of hands a little bit, but it’s nothing big. It’s the internet. People will ship any two people who so much breathe the same air.”

Zoro narrows his eyes critically at Usopp, and while Usopp gulps under the scrutiny, he also looks—honest. Trustworthy. Damn it, Zoro does have a soft spot for his tattletale of a friend, and one day it’s going to be his downfall.

“All right, fine, I’ll take your word for it,” he says, and Usopp releases a relieved sigh, which immediately gets sucked back in as soon as Zoro growls, “but if Nami even says something remotely different—“

“If I say something what?”

Zoro is a skillful and trained martial art practitioner. Rumor has it that he has no openings; opponents who go into a fight expecting one would get a reality check in the form of a kendo sword to the head. He’s like a wild predator, they all say, and you are his natural prey.

They are all wrong. Sitting comfortably on the apex of the food pyramid is Nami, and she knows all of Zoro’s weaknesses like the back of her hand.

Zoro jumps and thinks his heart stops for a moment as Nami appears out of nowhere and joins in the conversation, and she laughs when she notices his surprise.

“Shut up,” he growls, and she just grins even wider.

“I was just telling him about the shippers,” Usopp fills her in, oblivious to Zoro’s mini-heart attack, “that they’re. You know. Harmless?”

Zoro doesn’t like the unspoken question mark tacked at the end of Usopp’s sentence, and he likes it even less when Nami says, “well, I wouldn’t exactly call them harmless.”

Zoro glowers at that. “Explain.”

“I mean, you’ve been way too closed up about yourself, you’re practically an urban legend,” Nami says, “and people love knowing things, Zoro. It makes them feel like they’re part of something special. When the internet wants something, there’s no stopping the internet.”

“Like legalizing weed,” Usopp adds, “give them information and you can control what’s coming out. Give them nothing and you’re unleashing a hungry beast.”

“I’m not going to start using The Instant Gram for them,” Zoro says, frustrated, and bits his lips in a way that almost resembles a pout. Not that he pouts, of course.

“I told you it’s not called the Instant—you know what, I tried,” Usopp says under his breath, and Zoro ignores him.

“We’ve been at this before, you know,” Nami continues, shaking her head, “they want to know things about you, and they’re going to find out. Age. Height. Blood type. The brand of shampoo you use. Which side of the bed you’re sleeping in. The fact that you have a crush on Sanji—“

Zoro stops in his track. He blinks. “No one—no one knows that,” he says, and curses himself for stuttering. He catches Usopp’s eyes, and reluctantly adds, “unless I told them.”

“You never told me,” Nami points out.

“You don’t count,” Zoro insists, “you can read me like a book.”

“I want to be flattered,” Nami pats him on the head, like humoring a small child, “but it frankly doesn’t feel like much of an accomplishment when your book only says I HAVE A CRUSH ON SANJI in eighty point bold font.”

He definitely doesn’t blush at that. Desperate, he turns to Usopp. “This isn’t what you told me.”

Nami looks at him, and is that—damn it. Is that pity in her eyes? “Zoro, I don’t know what lies Usopp has been telling you this time, but everyone knows you have a Big Gay Crush on Sanji.”

“One, it’s not a—a Big Gay Crush,” he sputters, “and two, both of you hardly counts as ‘everyone.’”

“No, really,” Nami says as she pulls up safari on her iPhone to open the fuckyeahzosan tumblr page, “I mean everyone.”

+

FuckYeahZosan

The very first Zosan Blog. Zoro and Sanji flirt with each other and ignore everyone else in group pictures because they’re assholes in love.

mods: zorosanjis and queerbellemere

our edits

fanart | fanfics | fanmixes

 fuckyeahzosan

Nami just posted a new picture and it’s everything we’ve ever hoped for.

#sanji is cooking for zoro #what is air #zosan #official

452 notes

 fuckyeahzosan reblogged zoro-sanji-for-the-win 

I can’t believe we only got their names a month ago and today we’ve got two dozens new pictures where they surreptitiously look into each other’s eyes, found out they’ve been roommates for years, gone on yearly road trips with just the two of them, and are practically canon.

I feel like this has all been a collective fever dream we just haven’t woken up from.

It’s all real and you better believe it.

#reblogged #text

2,252 notes

 anonymous asked

Ugh, people like you are the reason why I hate the Strawhat Fandom so much. Zoro and Sanji aren’t even SIGNED to the Strawhats Agency. They’re just FRIENDS of Nami and Usopp. And now they’re the most popular pairing in this fandom? Bullshit.

Sorry, we can’t hear you over how often Zoro and Sanji appear in the Strawhats' videos they may as well be Strawhats, and how even Shanks treat them like they’re part of the fandom.

#asks and answers #mod a

564 notes

 fuckyeahzosan reblogged queennami

zoro + looking at sanji with a love-struck look on his face when he thinks no one’s looking

#THE THING THAT REALLY GOT ME ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP #or friendship or whatever #is that it’s so loud and flashy you can’t help but notice #but with glimpses of quiet moments like this #like you KNOW they have the typical alpha male friendship #roughhousing and name calling; the whole package #from the way nami and usopp talk about them in interviews and stuff #and how they glare at each other in pictures with insults teetering on the tips of their tongues #but sometimes we get glimpses of this when they think no one’s looking #zoro staring at sanji – startsruck – like there are constellations clinging on sanji’s back #and there’s always that small smile zoro probably reserves just for sanji #and I Die #stab me in the chest and it would’ve hurt less #zoro #sanji #zosan #strawhatedit #rpf for ts (via queennami)

#reblogged #photoset #tags #lord have mercy on me

4,425 notes

+

Usopp is so going home with a new bump on his head.

[novantinuum]

Together in Wanting

Read on AO3, comments and kudos there appreciated

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Rating: T

Words: 2700~

Pairings: Fiddauthor

Story Summary: Ford overanalyzes every aspect of his strengthening crush on his roommate, and Fiddleford finally makes a move. (Content warning for some brief internalized homophobia.)

Very much inspired by an early RP with @the-ill-doctor, and my personal envisioning of how Ford and Fiddleford initially got together in our RP stuff. No context of that is needed to enjoy this, though. :D 

It only took the better part of a semester for thoughts of Fiddleford to become hopelessly and inseparably entangled within his mind. Like a single, minuscule spot of ink spilled on thick parchment— the property of capillarity pulling it through each and every layer, pigment spreading so deep one might never hope to separate the two again— whatever bewitching influence the man had unknowingly cast on him had grown and grown and created...

He shifted restlessly under his sheets, stealing away what were likely the last possible shreds of warmth his ratty bedding had to offer.  

Well...

It certainly created something new, Ford thought, anxiety buzzing deep through his bones. Something that wasn’t supposed to happen, not to him, not here. And yet, ignoring every hesitant voice that echoed at his peripherals instructing— no, demanding— that he come to his senses least trouble find him, something beautiful. Truth be told, he’d never experienced anything like this before, this... level of inexplicable attachment to another person. It was as intoxicating as it was infuriating. Here he stood, bottom of the pecking order— a college freshman, and one who didn’t have a lick of spare time to dedicate to paltry, fanciful matters such as these— and he just had to choose to be sweet on his own one-and-a-half-year older roommate!

Well, not that he had any choice in the matter. If it were up to choice, he’d probably have jumped ship that fated day he noticed all his thought patterns inevitably looping back around to that warm hearted, gregarious, confidence-for-miles southern genius. With every nervous flutter he felt within, it was almost maddening. Almost, if not for the payoff he received whenever he responded to his puns with an even dorkier one (Hey Fidds, what kind of ghosts haunt the chemistry lab? Methylated spirits) and his roommate’s laugh rang out loud and free.

Dear god, he loved the sound of his laugh. The breathy twang of his voice as he sang along with his banjo, as off key as it was. Hah, and to think he once scorned all of Fiddleford’s southern quirks...! What changed his mind? What became different in the four months they’d coexisted together, since that first day when Ford foolishly almost wrote him off as a brainless southern hick?

Oh, he remembered that day so vividly he could nearly recount the exact emotions that filtered through his being at every turn. When he first met Fiddleford Hadron McGucket, he hated him. He was utterly furious, because he was so low strung about everything, and so folksy, and taking up space in what was supposed to be his single dorm, his sanctuary from the rest of the world, but thanks to a housing mishap became sanctuary to two. He fell right into the insidious trap of judging him by mere appearance, right into blatant hypocrisy. The guilt he still felt for that was palpable, pressing down upon him like lead. Hopefully one day he’d find the right moment to apologize.

Still, it was all too unimaginable.

How could he possibly have known then what he knew now? That he’d fudge his first set of final exams and receive a few A minuses because he, Stanford F. Pines, couldn’t stop thinking about a man? Or that he’d be friends with him to begin with, after bemoaning over him ceaselessly to Ma that first week on the phone? What if he explored this the way he would with one of his experiments, conducted an unbiased scientific query focused on the origin of human romantic interactions within the temporal lobe of the brain? Could he ever pinpoint the moment, the precise variable, that sent that first ripple of nervous energy through his chest? Was it the day Fidds commented on a sketch of his DD&MD character and called them ruggedly handsome, not knowing that Ford based this elven sorcerer on himself? (Or did he know??) Maybe it was the first time he casually rest a hand on his shoulder— an action likely as natural as anything to someone from the tactile South, but entirely foreign to him. Or perhaps it was when they found a common interest in tinkering and stayed up until three am building an alarm clock Rube Goldberg would be proud of out of a busted toaster, some notebook spirals they salvaged from the trash, and an oven mitt?

How many hypotheses could he forge?

He shivered in the bitter January chill, his blankets no longer appropriate protection from the elements. He tilt his neck to catch a glimpse of his roommate, eyes squeezed closed and breathing evenly in the bed across the small dorm. The distance between them was only a few feet at most, but it might as well have been impenetrable. Ford sighed wearily, laying limp on his back, as if the weight of a loss he hadn’t yet experienced had already settled upon him.

Who was he kidding? All these thoughts he’d let enrapture his mind, these idle fantasies of what could be? Foolish. Shameful, that deep, terrified part of him whispered. For a number of reasons.

Reason one, his subconscious monotonously supplied once again. Reason one is that you’re not here at this dead-end school to entangle yourself in the lives of others. You’re here to prove your worth to your family and to academia, however you can. Reason two. He’s your roommate for the rest of the year. If you make a move, and you botch this up, life will become painfully difficult.

Reason three.

Reason three was most of his worries, and why he still hesitated to make any sort of advances. He already knew Fiddleford was... well, queer, as many of the man’s friends oft referred to themselves. But Ford? He wasn’t sure if... he never... How would he even...

True, he never felt any strong inclination towards the so-called ‘fairer sex’ as a kid. Even whatever throwaway crush he had on Cathy Crenshaw in the second grade seemed more manufactured than real, since every facet of society he’d encountered aimed to press upon him the concept of man and woman, groom and wife. But if he’d never experienced anything... romantically... inclined in the first place, then how on earth can he know for sure if that’s what this is? In the end, however, he supposed it wouldn’t be changing much about the way people saw him either way. He was already a poor, Jewish Jersey kid from a mixed family with a rare genetic mutation, why the hell not add ‘gay’ to the mix?

The minutes ticked on into endless oblivion, the only noticeable sound except for the low wind whistling at their window and the drunk laughter of those rowdy frat boys a few doors down. He nestled even further under his blankets, settling so they pulled all the way up to his chin.

He desperately wished he were braver. Truth be told, even if he could amass the courage, he didn’t know if Fiddleford would be interested. Again, his roommate was one and a half years older. They were both adults, sure, but was that still too weird? Would it be a deal breaker? At the very least, he counted himself forever lucky to have him as a friend and confidant, no matter what happened (or didn’t happen) between them. No matter what doubts assailed his thoughts, he would cherish each second he could get with him: Those few stolen moments on campus where Fidds would find him after class and they’d circle around the quad talking about DD&MD or the Apollo missions or that new academic journal on string theory Ford recently found for what felt like hours. Unique instances like last Friday, when they grabbed a bite to eat off campus together at Fidds’ impromptu request. Lazy evenings spent in the dorm not doing anything in particular, just progressing on coursework or personal projects, but always in each other’s welcomed company. Every bit of winter break, when Fiddleford kindly invited him to stay with his family in Tennessee so he didn’t have to hole up in the frigid dorms or return home.

He couldn’t help the hopeless, stupid smile that teased at his lips, his cheeks almost hurting from how wide it ran. See, and this was precisely why his feelings for Fiddleford couldn’t be downplayed as mere friendship or camaraderie! He never got this way thinking about his other DD&MD mates. Still, it was late, he was cold... letting his mind replay the same broken record all night long wouldn’t do him any favors. He yawned, and curled up to conserve as much body heat as possible.

“You still up?” a voice whispered softly from across the dorm.

He froze into a panic. All this time, Fiddleford wasn’t asleep?? Shit, shit, he didn’t notice him staring dazedly at his side of the room the whole time, did he?

“Yeah,” he replied on automatic, instantly regretting not pretending to be deep in slumber.

Fidds turned in his bed so they faced each other, head propped up on his pillow. “It sure is cold, huh.”

“It, ah... It sure is."

“An’ my blanket ain’t helping.”

“Uh, I- I could check if I have an extra?”

He didn’t. But oh, for Fiddleford, he wished he did.

“Y’know... with all that ice outside,” he drawled, “maybe we oughta work together to conserve heat. Mind if I... bunk with you, for the night?”

Never in his life had he been more grateful that he had the freedom to hide his blushing face under the covers. Jesus, Stanford, don’t go falling to pieces just yet.

“Bunk wi- with me?”

“Sure! I reckon that way, we can combine all our bedding and hopefully not freeze ta’ icicles in the middle of night.”

The unexpected proposal left his mind flooded with nothing but formless static, wholly undecided in its path. He... why would... What if they...

“Of course, only if you’re comfortable,” Fiddleford added quickly, and he knew he’d have to give a coherent response soon least he risk coming off as rude.

“I am!” he blurted out. “I mean, I- I’m not opposed. To the idea of it, to us, uh... yes.”

Nailed it.

His roommate grinned. “Be right over, then!”

He watched with a tumultuous mixture of dumbfounded shock (that such a proposition had ever occurred) and eager anticipation (that he would ever want to share a bed in the first place) as the man eagerly bundled up blankets in his arms and traversed across the room to him. While Fidds was taking care of that, he pulled back the corner of his comforter in preparation, as well as scooting himself clear to the wall. Gotta allow him as much space as possible, just in case his reasons for bed sharing weren’t the same as Ford’s reasons for his hands shaking like a leaf in sheer nervousness. Thank goodness he could excuse that away as the bite of the cold.

Fiddleford threw his blankets over the twin sized mattress, and true to form there was an instant increase in warmth. To think he’d nearly forgotten what such comfort felt like! After tucking the blankets in against the far wall— cute, real cute— he climbed in beside him. His long legs brushed against his, meeting with the hem of his sweatpants.

“Here, I can—“ he murmured, shifting his feet to allow him more room. “Is that—?”

“Yeah,” he said, settling in with a soft smile and resting his head on the pillow, nose mere inches from his. “Thanks,” he added, a flash of genuine appreciation in his eyes.

(Misty blue, he noted. Reminded him of the surf.)

Side by side, they lay together in pregnant silence for an unknown duration. Their overlapping heartbeats were the only identifiable sound other than the clock’s ticking, and the never ceasing whistling of the wind. Seems the frat boys, at least, had since gone to sleep.

“Ford...”

“Hmm?”

“You do know I like ya’, right?”

And with that, a jolt of electricity shot through his entire nervous system. His tongue went slack, and Fiddleford spoke again.

“Like, like like you?”

Oh sweet Moses, it was as if his stomach had turned itself inside out- but not in an unpleasant, sick in bed with carbonated water and soda crackers sort of way, not at all. No, rather the odd sensation was light and fluttery. His face felt curiously warm, a welcome change from the frigid conditions he’d suffered in all night up until now. Breathlessly, he tried to splutter out a response.

“Y-you... you mean to say that you—?”

“Was wonderin’ when you’d finally notice? No offense, but your head’s kinda been up in the clouds.”

“I—“

He closed his eyes, steeling his nerves.

“I- really like you, too,” he finally admitted, that fluttery sensation acting up again at declaring it out loud for the first time.

“Oh, we all know,” he said fondly.

His eyes shot open.

“We?"

“What, d’ya think the rest of the crew couldn’t notice? Ford Pines, ‘m sorry ta say you really ain’t as subtle as you think you are, pining away over here.” Fiddleford paused to reach across to his face, and brushed a stray bit of his brown hair behind his ear. He peered thoughtfully into his eyes. “You ain’t subtle, and neither am I, frankly. It’s why I decided to be the first to speak up ‘bout it, ‘cause lord knows it probably wouldn’t‘ve been you.”

“I’d say I resent that, but you’re probably right,” he said with a warm chuckle, already feeling a great deal more confident about the scenario than he did only moments ago.

That wonderful man simply had something about him, something about the upbeat, genuine way he talked, that could put even the most nervous of souls at ease. He couldn’t explain it, not fully, but whenever he was around him he felt inspired to do things he’d never before considered. To take risks, to experience new and better things, to say ‘fuck it’ and sign up for that cryptography elective he desperately wanted to take even though it didn’t apply to his major... To always make the best effort he could to take care of himself, to live striving with purpose regardless of when that purpose feels impossibly distant on the horizon, to laugh daily even when laughter is the last thing he feels he’s humanly capable of...

To fall in love...

“How long has it been,” he asked, suddenly curious, “since you knew?”

“Since I knew...? Knew what? That I liked men? That you had a crush? That- that I also had one?”

“Any of it, really?”

“Hmmm,” Fiddleford thought out loud, tapping his slender finger to his chin. “Well, I figured out I was queer back when I was a kid. Had a crush on this young mailman we used to get ‘round our parts, see. And I knew you had the hots for me ever since I overheard ya’ muttering all sorts of cute things in your sleep.”

A nervous “Heh, heh” was all he could manage in response. He leaned his head ever so slightly closer to him.  

“But me? Well, I s’pose it was... Apollo 12. Back in November. We were watching the launch downstairs, in the lounge, and you... you were just so passionate about it. ‘Bout the whole world ‘round us. All my days an’ I’ve never known anyone so in love with discovery, with askin’ why. Spending time with you’s been one of the best things in my life,” he admitted, blushing slightly.

“Same,” Ford agreed, grinning wildly, his cheeks the same shade of red. “So then, if we both...? What now?”

“For now, we sleep,” he said with a short laugh. “If we stay up any later, not even Cafe Cubano could wake us up in time for lecture, I’m sure."

“Ah, but you doubt the power of my ma’s famous Cafe Cubano.”

He snickered, and then— leaned over to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Goodnight, Ford.”

The man rolled over then, a respectful offer of privacy within their already intimate arrangement. Ford beamed, still entirely giddy and awed in light of everything that had happened, dusting his fingers over the skin his lips graced.

“Goodnight...” he wished, his restless form finally finding a sense of deep, encompassing peace.

For tonight, at least, his slumber would be sound and dreamless.

[themjinterviews-blog]

22. Bitches, I like 'em brainless...guns, I like 'em stainless.

Are you better at telling stories or writing them? Writing them. I actually would venture to say I dislike verbally telling stories…too many variables outside my control…I could be interrupted, fumble over words, accidentally leave a part out, miss an opportunity to include a witty remark.

Name a band that you can’t decide whether you like them or not. Post Malone…sometimes I think I like him but he’s such an odd looking fellow I have a hard time pinning his face to his voice.

What’s one song you hate, but know every word to? The Daisy sour cream commercial.

Can you clap on beat and sing at the same time? Not for an extended period of time. I lose it.

Are you going to be or do you want to be a big star someday? Definitely not. I want to live a relatively quiet existence without being crippled by materialistic impulses or bombarded by fame.

Have you ever heard of the band Pax Romana? I have not.

Do you know the difference between an addiction and an obsession? I mean, they’re both mental fixations in a way but they’re not totally synonymous.

What one place do you absolutely have to go to/visit this summer? The NY Reconnaissance Faire. My sister and I always go every summer.

Are you already going to that place or still need to work out the details? …we ALWAYS go. Just have to wait and see what weekend.

What would be a clever name for a pet porcupine? Quillzilla?

Would you ever even consider keeping a porcupine as a pet? Nooo. I don’t want to get quill’d like Chance from Homeward Bound!

What’s one word that annoys you when people use it out of context? None spring to mind.

What fast food restaurant(s) can you absolutely not stand? They’re all about the same. I like most food.

Have you created any surveys that have been taken more than 1000 times? I highly doubt it. I don’t have a very large following/internet presence.

What’s your favorite magazine? I don’t read any because it’s 2019 and that’s what people’s stupid Facebook feeds are for.

Are there any holidays you feel are pointless, and if so which one(s)? Technically, all of them? But they’re opportunities to gather with friends and family to celebrate some common theme and I think society needs that shit to function.

If you could be an animal for one day, which animal would you choose? Squirrel. I have a well-documented fondness for squirrels…I even follow Squirrel Instagrams.

What band, musical artist, or song do you feel you’ll never get sick of? More than I can count… Muse, Volbeat, Chevelle, Marshmello, Chainsmokers, Eminem, Dashboard Confessional, Lindsey Stirling…

Have you ever wanted to be in the circus? No. I’d rather not be raped by the Tilt-a-Whirl operator, thanks.

Is it cool or annoying when someone blends two languages (I.e. spanglish)? No, be my guest. Speak Parseltounge for all I care.

Do people care as much about celebrity couples a the media thinks they do? I’m sure, for whatever reason, that some people seriously do. I don’t get it, but who am I to judge? I sit around on Adderall and answer surveys about myself.

Is it annoying when people use cliches when talking to or giving you advice? Ehhhh, it’s not they’re fault they’re basic.

What tv show(s) do you miss watching as a little kid? Lots. Of course, old school Nickelodeon, Gilmore Girls, Whose Line Is It Anyway?, Cheers, The Croc Hunter.

If you could visit any other planet, what would be your first choice? If outer space happened to be exactly like how it’s portrayed in The Orville, I'd go. Pretty sure it’s not, though.

Does it annoy you when people say, write, or type “dat” instead of “that”? It’s of no concern to me if other people defy the laws of proper english. I use it sometimes in sarcastic contexts.

Type some of the lyrics to the song currently stuck in your head. Nothing is stuck in my head.

Do you think college parties are overrated? As a 30 year old, yeah, totally overrated in retrospect. In my college days, they were usually okay or entertaining on some level. & If I got invited to one right this second, for whatever reason, I would still probably stop by for a warm keg beer.

Does it annoy you when people say “omg” or “idk” in a normal conversation? No. It amuses me.

Are you the type of person who’s always asking questions or answering them? In real life or surveys? I guess about 50/50?

Are you good with analogies? *toot toot* That was me, tooting my own horn, analogies are my jam. I essentially communicate almost entirely in analogies. Helps tie thoughts and concepts together.

Do you think Twitter is getting too much hype or does it live up to it? I don’t have Twitter, never got into the concept.

In your opinion, what’s the most boring job or position a person can hold? Subjectively, anything that involves math or being cooped up in an office doing math. I’d imagine being a Walmart greeter is also pretty boring.

Do you prefer outdoor or indoor concerts/events? I like the whole outdoor all-day summer festival ones.

Which fast food/sit down restaurant to you live closest to? None and all of them simultaneously. I live on the road in a semi-truck..

Do you think athletes and actors get paid too much money? Probably. While yes, I think it’s absurdly excessive I also think it’d somehow detract from the elite-ness of the profession if they made $12.50 + 1 week paid vacation and company health coverage. They would seem just like us, negating their appeal, because we use celebrity lives to escape our own. This is definitely society’s fault.

Do you know anybody who doesn’t like chicken? Vegans/vegetarians?

Who’s one person that can always make you happy without even trying? Depends.

What was the last thing you got out of the fridge? Krispy Kreme donuts.

Have you ever heard a song parody that was better than the original? Probably. I love parodies.

Would you rather hear a lie to make you happy or the truth that hurts? Literally doesn’t matter. There’s no definitive way to know how true anything ever is. As humans, our narratives and perceptions are so prone to logically fallacies and undetectable biases that it'd be silly to assume certainty.

What is your least favorite color? I'm incapable of disliking a color. I doodle all the time and there honestly isn’t a color I’m just like “ewww” about.

Is it really possible for one girl or guy to “make your dreams come true”? I’d hope not. When I actually *do* dream at night, they’re always bizarre, scattered sagas of pure randomness. Better off staying dreams, I think.

What did you honestly think of this survey? A little too much garlic salt but it'd pair great with a robust pinot noir!

[thatoneloser-kid]

deanoru prompt: au where karolina is head cheerleader and captain of all the clubs and Nico is goth af but they’re secretly dating

Karolina had never actually spoken to the girl, she was too scared to, which, in concept, was crazy. She was the head cheerleader, she shouldn’t be afraid to talk to anyone, but this girl was different.

It wasn’t being of her bristly exterior and dark clothing that scared Karolina, like it did every one else in the school.

No, what scared Karolina is how Nico made her feel. How she felt every time Nico looked at her, even if it was just a passing glance, her eyes barely making contact with Karolina, she found herself blushing, her tummy churning.

And she had heard ‘locker room talk’ about other girls would the school, and how some of the cheerleaders would sneer about how they were ‘obviously dykes’ which hurt. Between that and her mother Karolina buried herself so far in the closet that she resigned herself to never coming out.

The whole thing that triggered their relationship was purely accidental.

It was one of the fundraiser nights at the school and Karolina’s parents were being so overwhelming that Karolina had to just take a walk.

She rounded one of the corners and ended up barrelling into someone. Without even looking up she quickly apologised (because this wasn’t school and she didn’t have it in her to put on that mean act right now) and knelt down to pick up the person’s phone.

When she looked up she froze, her mouth open a little when she noticed Nico staring down at her, obviously annoyed.

“Hi,” Karolina breathed out.

“Are you going to get up?”

“Right,” Karolina felt like all the air just left her lungs as she slowly stood, holding the phone out to Nico. “I’m sorry, I didn’t- I just had to get away.”

“Must be hard being fawned over by everyone.” Nico murmured sarcastically.

“Yeah, in front of people, maybe. But when no one is around my mom is just on my back constantly.” Karolina grumbled. “You have to be better, Karolina. Smile more, Karolina. What do you mean you got an A, Karolina, we only get A-pluses in this family.”

Nico looked surprised at the outbursts, her eyebrows raised and her lips hooked up into a small smile.

Karolina blushed, ducking her head. “What about you? Why are you wandering?”

“I had to get away, too.”

“Oh,” Karolina nodded, licking her lips nervously. “Well, if you like, we could go somewhere? Maybe the roof or something.”

“The roof?” Nico frowned. “Isn’t that against the rules?”

“If we get caught.”

This made Nico frowned, her head tilting curiously. “Okay, sure.”

Karolina didn’t care that this made her grin widely, or that Nico looked at her funny when she did.

They ended up up on the roof, sitting on the edge in silence.

“Is this something you do often?” Nico asked.

“Yeah, this place is suffocating.”

“Must be hard, being loved by everyone.”

Karolina sighed softly. “You ever feel like everyone expects you to be one thing but that’s just not who you are? Like, you become a person not because it’s what you want but because you want to please everyone else?”

“Who are you really, then?”

“I don’t know,” Karolina admitted. “I’ve been pretending for so long.”

“Pretending is exhausting,” Nico said, “Whether it is lying about who you are or if you’re okay, it really takes it out of you.”

Karolina glanced up from her feet briefly. “Are you okay?”

“About as okay as you are,”

That made Karolina laugh, her head bobbing at those words.

They spent a good hour up there, alternating between talking and sitting in silence but it was nice, just to have someone to talk to who didn’t expect anything from her.

They went their separate ways as soon as they left the roof, acting like it never happened.

She didn’t speak to Nico again until Wednesday of the following week. She got another A in biology, which was the best score in the class but there was a voice in her head that told her it just wasn’t good enough.

She headed up to the roof, stopping when she opened the door and seen Nico there, sitting on the floor with her back to the wall surrounding the edge of the roof.

Karolina didn’t really know how to react, so she just stared.

“Bad day?” Nico asked, her head resting back against the wall.

“I got an A in biology,” Karolina said, moving closer to Nico.

Nico, unlike everyone else, didn’t scoff and tell her an A was amazing. She hummed sympathetically, nodding to the space beside her. “I would offer you help but I’m getting C’s in biology.”

“I could help you, if you’d like.” Karolina offered. “They say the best way to learn is to teach it to other people, right?”

“Sure,” Nico agreed, give Karolina a smile she had never seen from Nico and, man, did it give her butterflies.

Karolina helped Nico out with biology, at the library near Nico’s place, where they knew no one would see them, and they met a few more times on the roof. With each passing day they spent together she could feel Nico warming up to her and, sure, this was exactly what she wanted but it was a little overwhelming.

Nico was more incredible then Karolina ever dreamed and she could feel herself falling more and more In love with her with every passing second.

So when Nico kissed her, on the roof during the Valentine’s Day ball, Karolina had to brace herself against the wall.

“Was that okay?” Nico asked unsurely when they broke apart, eyeing Karolina, whose hand was gripping tightly onto the wall.

“So okay,” Karolina gasped out.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a little while now, but I wasn’t sure if you were interested until the tonight,” Nico admitted. “I’ve never had anyone look at me like you do.”

“How do I look at you?”

“Like I’m the only person in the world you see,”

“You are,” Karolina whispered.

“Do you want to get out of here? We can go back to my place.”

They cuddled in bed that night then sat down to talk about it the following day, decided to keep it under wraps for now, with Karolina’s team and her mother, and Nico’s parents and the fact she was supposed to be this ‘I don’t give a fuck’ goth.

Karolina didn’t mind much, there was something giddy about sneaking around school with Nico, stolen kisses in the bathroom, fleeting touches in the hallway, rendez-vous on the roof.

There was one day that Chase seemed to give her extra attention, which obviously caught Nico’s attention because she backed Karolina into the bathroom stall, pressing her against the door and her hands finding their way under Karolina’s pleated skirt, resting over the curve of her butt.

“Chase means nothing to me.” Karolina breathed out between kisses. “You know that, right?”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be a little jealous when I see some brainless jock fawning over you.” Nico growled.

“I suppose it’s comforting to know you care enough to be jealous,” Karolina said, resting her forehead against Nico’s.

“I do care, I really care.” Nico looked at Karolina with soft eyes. “You never doubt that, do you?”

“No,” Karolina answered, and it was true, Nico always made her feel special. “No, never.”

“Good,” Nico smiles, using her thumb to wipe at Karolina’s lips. “You should start wearing black lipstick.”

Karolina laughed, wiping her lips. “See you tonight? At the library?”

“You will,” Nico promised, giving Karolina one last kiss before leaving her to fix the black smudges on her lips. Calling over her should be for leaving, “I love that skirt, by the way.”

The sneaking around went on for a few months, and it was almost too easy, no one suspected the sunny, church girl was fooling around with the dark, goth girl.

She knew they would talk about it when they were ready to come out, which was why it was odd that Nico approached her in a crowded hallway one day (the day had started off odd enough, with everyone staring a little more than usual) and gripping her arm, dragging her toward the library.

“Nico,” Karolina started unsurely, but stopped when Nico thrusted a photo in her face.

“This was your girls who done this,”

Karolina took the photo, her heart kicking up so fast that that was all she could hear, the sound of her heart beat and this weird buzzing.

It was a photo of her a Nico at the library, faces only inches apart. You could only see Karolina’s face and she had this wide smile on her lips, her eyes were just filled with the unmistakable look of love.

“How did you- where did you find this?”

“They were pinned up all over the school.” Nico’s anger seemed to fade when she noticed how pale Karolina was looking. “Karo, babe? Are you okay?”

“I- I need to sit down.” Karolina stumbled back and I to a chair, her head falling I to her hands. “My mom, god only knows what she is going to say.”

“We have to deal with school first,”

“I have practice first thing,” Karolina said. “How am I supposed to face them?”

“With your head held high and your shoulders back. You’re the head cheerleader, you are in charge.”

“I can’t just go in there,” Karolina was starting to panic now. “You haven’t heard the things they say about people like me, Nico.”

“I know, and that sucks, but it’s something we knew we would have to deal with, eventually.”

Karolina’s stomach was in knots as she made her way into the locker room, her chin high.

“Karolina,”

The way her name was drawled made her stomach twist in anger.

“What kind of b-list teen movie stunt was this?” Karolina frowned, balling up the photo and throwing it at Claire.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” the smirk on her face told Karolina that that was a blatant lie. “I have seen it, though. I never thought you would be like… that.”

“Like what? Happy? In love with someone who loves me back… I think.” Karolina frowned for a second before returning her glare to Claire. “I may be gay but you’re a walking cliche of high school cheerleader and what you seem to have forgotten is that I run this squad, my mommy and daddy are big donors to the cheerleader and football teams. How much do you like your chances up against coach when you tell her I’ve been picking on you? Who do you think she was side with?”

“Picking on me? You haven’t been.”

“No, not yet.” Karolina hummed, clicking her fingers. “Girls, towels here.”

Karolina smirked when towels began falling at Claire’s feet.

“I expect these all clean by tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding me? I’m not your lacky.”

“You’re whatever I say you are.” Karolina said. “I hope you’re proud of yourself for this. People have killed themselves over this kind of stuff. Not me, not Nico, because we’re happy, and we have people who have our backs. But this kind of stuff kills people, Claire.”

Karolina turned to leave but Claire spoke before she could. “You never know, it might run in the family and your dyke girlfriend’s sister killed herself.”

Karolina blacked out for a second and when her eyes re-focused her hand was throbbing and Claire was clutching her nose.

Karolina blinked a few more times, rubbing her throbbing hand. “She’s bi,” Karolina murmured before leaving.

It wasn’t long until she was called it the principals office.

When Karolina entered the waiting area she couldn’t help the little smile that pulled into her lips when she saw Nico there.

Nico glanced up, doing a double take, smiling softly at her girlfriend.

Karolina took a seat, holding up her bruised hand. “Punched someone,”

Nico laughed, holding up her own hand. “Me, too.”

“Who?”

“Dumb jock, you?”

“Dumb cheerleader.”

Nico smiled, her hand sliding onto Karolina’s thigh. “We’re going to be okay,”

“I know,” Karolina smiled, sliding her hand into Nico’s. “Hey, you remember that first night we spoke?”

“Of course,”

“You remember I asked if you were okay and you said you were about as good as I was?” Karolina stared down at their joined hands.

“Mhm?”

“Has that changed?” Karolina asked. “Are you doing any better?

“I am, that’s partially down to you. You have made my feel special, you have made me believe that I am capable of a lot of things I never thought possible. You have made me a better person, and I will carry that with me forever.” Nico have Karolina’s hand a little squeeze. “Why?”

“No reason,” Karolina shrugged. “Just something I was thinking about.”

Nico nodded. “Do you want to go to your parents tonight, tell them everything?”

“Okay,” Karolina agreed.

Sure, sneaking around was exhilarating but watching Nico as she unloaded her bag into her locker and knowing she could go up and kiss her filled her with so much love.

Karolina could heard some of the girls on the squad whispering behind her, but she ignored them, marching over to Nico, who turned when she was a few steps away.

“Hey, b-“

Karolina cupped Nico’s cheeks and and kissed her gently, smiling when she felt Nico melt against her, her hands coming up to grip onto that horrible blue and yellow letterman she was wearing.

Karolina pulled back, smiling softly down at Nico. “Good morning,”

“It really fucking is,” Nico breathed.

“Walk you to class?”

“We are in the same class,” Nico laughed.

“Is that a yes?” Karolina kinked an eyebrow, taking a step back and holding her hand out to Nico.

“You’re a dork sometimes.” Nico rolled her eyes, taking Karolina’s hand.

“You love it,”

“I do,” Nico agreed with a soft smile, on hand clasped in Karolina’s and the other holding onto Karolina’s forearm as they walked.

[a-shrieking-cloud-of-bats]

okay talkin about The Sacrifice in here stay out if you don’t want warframe spoilers because I’m talkin bout em

first off, mechanical stuff, I think umbra fills a nice niche for solo players, and he’s sort’ve massively beefy due to the umbra mods but you can also put them on anything right now (maybe a bug) so that doesn’t really count until that’s resolved in some way to make it explicit, excal umbra runs around when you’re in operator form and shoots stuff independently of you and it’s a super nice way to clean up some random mooks while getting some footwork done or spread your firepower out a bit, and it also gives a new benefit to a lot of focus stuff to boot it gives people that wanna play in operator form an excuse to do so I don’t really know how it stacks up math-wise but given nobody uses normal frame spectres I’m willing to bet the answer is at the very least “not meta breaking“ as for lore first off if you knew the lotus was gonna abandon us and are one of those people that’ve been waiting for the pin to drop from day one then congratulations I totally gave up on that theory as for the umbra frames themselves, they’re pretty obviously an attempt at a frame that could pilot itself, probably an early attempt at the warframe concept in general, and they ended up bombing because as it turns out when you make someone a bio weapon and torture them they don’t tend to appreciate you very much this also makes it explicit that the orokin were bastards that didn’t really give much of a shit about things that weren’t themselves, that was heavily implied and everything and I doubt they were gonna go back on that but Hard Confirmation interesting that ballas gave up on the orokin and indicating that the lotus may have been in cahoots with him from the start, and the whole “ballas kidnaps space mom” thing was just a setup to try and get them to run into a trap, it would certainly explain how abrupt and difficult to place apostasy prologue was so ultimately it clears up the nature of lotus as a character (why was a sentient just sorta randomly supporting the tenno, the reason given before has a lot of questions attached) and gives more insight into frames as a concept and in fact might even finally close that book, normal/prime frames are “brainless” masses of infested flesh and umbra frames are Real Ass Humans that have been infested and allowed to keep their minds and operate independently but yeah Good Quest and umbra is also good but not in a like massive meta breaking way, to boot it also provides a character surrogate for people that don’t the operator, so it’s nice to throw them a bone too also we might get voice packs now

[duhragonball]

One interesting thing about DBZ is that while it has some very emotional scenes, they're all about relationships a child could understand. Goku's sacrifice is all about father-son, Piccolo's sacrifice is all about a mix of father-son, student-mentor and older brother-younger brother, and Vegeta's sacrifice is of course all about father-son. Which is why it's kinda funny when people point to these scenes as examples of how DBZ was meant for older people than DBS...

I haven’t actually seen anyone try to make that case.   It wouldn’t surprise me, though, since fans always try to suggest that the older material was more mature than the newer stuff.

Way back in 1997, all these old farts on the comics newsgroups would piss and moan about how comics aren’t as good as they used to be.   This is why I’ve been reading old X-Men comics, because I never read them much at the time, but I was genuinely curious to see how the 80′s stuff held up compared to the 90′s stuff.  Turns out, the dinos were exaggerating, at least as far as I can tell.  The Claremont run (1975-1991) was groundbreaking, but it was also wordy and tedious, especially after the dust settled and the “All-New, All-Different X-Men” stopped being new and different.  Whenever a new writer would take over, I found I was always thrown off by how much more human the dialogue sounded.   Louise Simonson made the teenage girls on the New Mutants talk like actual teenage girls.  Scott Lobdell had Iceman tell a joke in one issue, and it was like finding water in a desert.     The 90′s comics have problems of their own, but a lot of the things people whined about on Usenet were things Claremont practically invented: constant plot danglers, excessive angst in place of character development, characters randomly switching allegiances, and everyone being snippy and self-righteous to one another.  The post-Claremont X-Men writers were just taking the ball and running with it.  

None of this surprised me, since I knew the Usenet dinos were full of it all along.   Because I was reading Superman comics in the 90′s, and so whenever they’d complain about Superman I’d know if they had a legitimate beef.  This one time someone waxed nostalgic for the days when Superman used to use his head and think out a problem instead of just relying on brute force.   And I pointed out that he just did that in Adventures of Superman #554.  In that issue, Superman was trying to stop this sewer-dwelling monster called “Ripper”, because the monster would sign its name whenever it killed people.   By the end of the story, Superman deduced that the creature was actually trying to communicate.   What everyone thought was the word “Ripper” was actually a pictogram that everyone had tragically misinterpreted.   And the guy I told this to was like “Oh, sorry, I misspoke.”   

That issue has stuck with me for a long time, and I’ve tried to be mindful of that lesson as I’ve gotten older.   Because these days I don’t know what the hell is going on in Superman comics.   I dropped them in 2009 because of a terrible storyline where Superman stopped appearing in most of his books, and then when he came back I realized that I wasn’t nearly interested enough to dive back in.  The reality was that I lost interest in Superman some time around 2004, but I just kept buying all his comics out of intertia.   So my knowledge of Superman continuity is about 14-years behind.    What this means is that I have no business lecturing any current Superman readers about what’s wrong with the books they’re reading.   I wish Superman would read the red underwear again, but it’d be foolish of me to say “Well, Superman should have the Fortress of Solitude in Antarctica like he used to.”  Because for all I know the modern comics have put it back there already.  And even if it’s someplace else, how do I know that isn’t better?  If the current audience likes it, and I don’t keep up with it, what does it matter if I approve or not? 

That’s the bullshit older people like to peddle.  It’s just egocentrism disguised as “elderly wisdom” or “tradition”.   The only reason I liked the Fortress of Solitude in Antarctica is because I think Antarctica is cooler than the Arctic Ocean.    The Fortress used to be at the North Pole, which always bugged me because the South Pole has a continent underneath it.  Also, Antarctica is much colder and more remote, so it just makes more sense to me as a place for Superman to go when he wants to be alone.   But it’s purely a matter of opinion, and there’s no factual basis for one location being better than the other.  For a while, Superman had his Fortress inside a tessarect, like Doctor Who’s police box, so he could literally put it anywhere he liked.  For a while he had it stowed in the globe on top of the Daily Planet building.   

Now, I could try to suggest that’s a more ��adult” way to approach the lore, but it’s not.   A tessarect is just as immature as Superman living next door to Santa Claus.   But I could try to play the age card and say “Well, I’m a mature adult, so if I think this then it must be the more mature approach.”  That’s crap, because in the 1940′s Superman didn’t even have a Fortress of Solitude.  If the oldest solutions are best, the whole idea of a Fortress is dumb.  The whole idea of Superman is dumb, since in the 1920′s he didn’t even exist.   By this line of reasoning we should be talking about the Rover Boys instead.  But when old people try to play that game, they’re not thinking about things older than their own experience.   They’re just trying to put their own experiences on a moral high ground. 

I think there’s a similar thing playing out with Dragon Ball this decade.  DBS is hit or miss, and fans are struggling to accept that their faves aren’t always going to be presented in the best manner possible.   I suppose I have seen people argue that DBS is nothing more than a cash-grab, a way for Toei to sell merchandise and toys, which would suggest that DBS is written in an overly childish way to appeal to the most impressionable demographics.  But that ignores the fact that the original Dragon Ball was a for-profit enterprise.    It’s not like Akira Toriyama was solely concerned with quality storytelling.   He was trying to sell comics to make a living, and a lot of what he did was designed to cater to his audience, just as DBS is trying to do now. 

It does sort of amuse me to think that DBZ is the more mature show, after years of hearing people complain that it’s too goofy or brainless.    Is it better than Dragon Ball Super?   Yeah, easily.  But it’s silly to try to reduce that comparison to a quick soundbyte.   The worst parts of Dragon Ball Super were boring, or had low production values, or the story just didn’t make a lot of sense.  Call it out for what it is.  Don’t try to turn it into some grand generalization about how they jest don’t make annie-may’s like they used ta. 

But a lot of people just can’t handle that concept.    I remember this conversation at work years ago when Harry Potter-mania was at its height, about reactionaries who thought the HP books promoted occult practices.  And I’m like, why can’t people just complain that they’re really badly written?  Not everything has to be about the corruption of the youth, or the decline of civilization.    Sometimes a piece of art is just a stinker, and nothing else needs to be said.